The deafening silence
Renato Marques
In a city that prides itself on increased efficiency, well-established order, and stability, one would expect clarity in public officials’ communication. However, in Macau, a disturbing silence has settled. It is not the calm of confidence, but the kind that prompts more questions than answers.
For journalists trying to do their jobs, this silence is not just theoretical. It is obvious in unanswered emails, declined interview requests, and questions dodged at public events and press conferences. It is felt through the lack of genuine engagement from government officials who, by design, should be answerable to the people they serve.
Increasingly, it is also seen when interacting with directly elected lawmakers, individuals whose legitimacy depends on public support. What appears is not just a communication gap or a language barrier, but a clear pattern.
The role of the press is clear: to ask questions, investigate, and inform. When authorities refuse to respond, they are not just avoiding scrutiny; they are withholding important information about decisions that affect the public.
Policies do not exist in a vacuum, nor should those who shape them. Silence, in this context, becomes a form of opacity.
Regarding lawmakers, it is very concerning that they are hesitant to clearly state their ideas and goals when asked. These are not officials protected by layers of bureaucracy; they are representatives chosen by voters (as they claim).
Their mandate is not only to pass laws but also to communicate, explain what they stand for, what they plan to do, and how they intend to handle the complexities of governance and oversight in a rapidly changing Macau.
When these voices fall silent, the democratic aspect they represent seems more performative than genuine.
To be clear, public office is demanding. Officials operate under constraints—political, administrative, and sometimes personal. Not every question can be answered immediately, nor every issue resolved completely. But consistent non-engagement is not a matter of capacity; it is a matter of choice, and a choice that has consequences.
The lack of responses – even to simple, routine questions –ofsters speculation and erodes trust. It creates space for rumors and misinformation to flourish, not because journalists are reckless or indifferent to their work, but because the absence of official perspectives leaves gaps that others will try to fill.
In the long run, it diminishes the bond between institutions and the public, a bond that relies fundamentally on transparency and dialogue.
As we are often reminded by official press statements from the local government, Macau is at a critical point, managing economic change, social expectations, and the ongoing recognition of its role within regional and national contexts.
These challenges cannot be solved behind closed doors, through one-way communications, or by sporadic “public consultations” on topics the public is not fully informed about. They require real, consistent, and sincere engagement.
The media, for its part, must keep asking questions even when answers are not coming. Persistence is part of the job. But the responsibility is not only on journalists; it is equally on those in power to recognize that silence is not neutrality. It is, in effect, a statement – and right now, the voice of silence is growing too loud.
The question is: who is willing to break this silence?
