When I first accepted the role of Chair of Harlow Council, I was under no illusions. Some view civic roles as relics—dignified but largely ceremonial. A chance to wear the chain, cut a few ribbons, and pose for photographs. But I’ve come to believe, more than ever, that in an age of cynicism, symbols still matter.

The office of Chair isn’t just about pageantry. It’s about presence. It’s about offering a non-partisan focal point -a person who stands, quite literally, above the political fray to represent the whole community. That’s not an outdated idea. In fact, in our fractured, often fractious political climate, it’s more needed than ever.

Civic functions – the remembrance services, school visits, faith gatherings – aren’t just duties. They are reminders of what binds us. Moments of shared dignity. Times when politics is set aside in favour of civic identity.

Yes, the powers of such a role are limited. But its influence can be quiet and profound. You learn to listen more than speak. You represent those who have no voice. You stand in buildings where generations have served before you – and you realise the role isn’t about you. It’s about continuity, trust, and stewardship.

I’ve always believed that honour and public service go hand in hand. The chairmanship is a reminder of that. And in an era where too many public roles have become little more than stepping-stones to media or money, I think that’s worth defending.