Yesterday, if witness accounts are accurate, Ballina witnessed something that should concern every police officer, magistrate, judge, politician and government agency involved in community safety.

A group of masked men arrived at a Ballina motel, allegedly called a man a “pedo”, struck him with a stick and disappeared before police arrived.

The alleged victim was Shane Roy Jones.

But this story is much bigger than Shane Roy Jones.

If witness accounts are correct, yesterday was the day some people in Ballina stopped waiting for the system to deliver justice and decided to deliver it themselves.

That should alarm all of us.

Not because violence is ever an acceptable substitute for justice. It isn’t. A civilised society cannot function if individuals appoint themselves police officer, prosecutor, judge and jury. But neither can a civilised society ignore the warning signs when increasing numbers of people lose confidence in the institutions that are supposed to protect them.

To understand why emotions ran so high, it is necessary to look at the sequence of events that unfolded over the past week.

Last Thursday, police allege Jones used a mobile phone to secretly record women inside the public toilets at Tamar Street Village by placing the device beneath the gap between cubicles. Police have so far identified 11 women who were allegedly recorded and court documents indicate investigators are still attempting to identify additional alleged victims, meaning there may be women who used those toilets that afternoon who still do not know they were allegedly filmed.

Then came another revelation.

Court records describe Jones as a registered child protection offender in Queensland. Publicly reported court proceedings show he previously served a prison sentence after breaking into a home and sexually abusing a four-year-old girl while her parents slept upstairs.

Jones’ record, published in full on the Aussie Sex offenders website is sickening to read. 

Then came another revelation.

Jones was staying in a Ballina motel under a taxpayer-funded emergency accommodation arrangement.

The motel manager says she was never told.

Neither were other residents made aware, including women with children. 

An eight-year-old child was sleeping in a neighbouring room.

Why was he on bail?

And then came the question that generated perhaps the strongest reaction of all.

Why was a registered child protection offender accused of secretly filming women in public toilets still living in the community?

Why was he being housed in a taxpayer-funded motel and why were the people around him not informed?

Whether those decisions were legally correct is almost beside the point. The public sees that sequence of events and many simply conclude that something has gone badly wrong.

Spend a morning in a modern bail court and it is easy to understand why so many members of the public are becoming frustrated.

Police prosecutors routinely argue that offenders present an unacceptable risk to the community, point to lengthy criminal histories, highlight previous breaches and outline why they believe bail should be refused. Yet many people leave court with the impression that the system is searching for reasons to release offenders rather than reasons to keep them behind bars.

It reportedly costs taxpayers around $450 a night to house an inmate at Grafton Correctional Centre. By comparison, rooms at the Ballina motel where Jones was staying can be booked online for less than $120 a night.

Is it possible that economics are increasingly influencing decisions that are presented as matters of justice, rehabilitation and community management?

People have every reason to ask why those with serious criminal histories appear able to access motel accommodation funded by the public purse while working families struggle to find housing and some law-abiding residents are sleeping in cars. 

They will be asking whether community safety is receiving the same priority as cost savings, and why, in case after case, police appear to be arguing for detention while the courts appear to be finding a pathway back into the community.

What struck me most about the hundreds of comments left on Ballina News Daily’s social media pages was not the anger itself, because anger was entirely predictable.  It was where that anger was directed.

While some criticism was aimed at police, Social Futures and Homes NSW, the overwhelming sentiment was directed towards the courts, bail laws and what many people see as a justice system that has become increasingly focused on managing offenders rather than protecting the communities expected to live alongside them.

Perhaps the most confronting aspect of the public reaction was the number of people who described the alleged attackers as “heroes”.  It wasn’t an isolated view buried deep in a comment thread.  The sentiment appeared again and again, suggesting that what should have been universally condemned by a law-abiding community was, in the eyes of some, being celebrated.

That should frighten everyone.  Because when otherwise law-abiding members of the public begin celebrating vigilante violence, it is a sign that confidence in the institutions of justice has fallen to a dangerously low level.

Confidence has been eroding for years

Ballina’s frustrations did not begin this week.

They did not begin with Shane Roy Jones and they did not begin with a motel room.

Many residents trace their loss of confidence back much further.

The death of Lucy Lucena in January 2023 remains one of the most troubling examples.  A witness called triple-0 reporting that a man was “bashing the hell out of this woman”.

Police took almost an hour to respond and when an officer arrived, he did not leave his vehicle to investigate. Subsequent findings and investigations raised serious questions about the response and left many locals wondering whether Ballina was receiving the attention and resources it deserved.

Those concerns have never fully gone away.  If anything, they have grown.

For more than a year Ballina News Daily has reported on issues that have left many residents questioning whether the institutions responsible for public safety are keeping pace with the challenges facing a rapidly growing regional city. 

We have reported on six stolen vehicles sitting at the bottom of the Richmond River, repeat offenders, drug offences, domestic violence matters that continue to come before the courts with depressing regularity and ongoing concerns about policing resources.

Repeatedly, we hear the same sentiment from readers: the system is no longer working.

What is Ballina becoming?

One of the comments that struck me most yesterday came not from an anonymous social media account, but from Ballina Chamber of Commerce president and local business owner Joeline Hartley Paskins.

“As a female and a business owner in Ballina, I’m beyond frustrated,” she wrote.

“How many more incidents like this do we have to see before we start asking whether the system is working?

“Taxpayers are funding accommodation and support services, yet the community continues to deal with the consequences when high risk offenders are placed in towns like ours.

“Ballina’s reputation, community safety and local economy are hurting. Motels should be full of visitors bringing money into our town, not becoming long-term accommodation for people who clearly require a higher level of supervision.”

Whether readers agree with every word of that statement is not really the point.

The point is that Joeline Paskins is one of Ballina’s most respected business leaders and her comments reflect a question that more and more people appear to be asking.

What is Ballina becoming?

Is it still the thriving coastal community attracting families, retirees, visitors and investment, or is it increasingly being expected to absorb the consequences of decisions made elsewhere by agencies and institutions that rarely have to live with the consequences themselves?

That is not a question that can be dismissed as fearmongering or political grandstanding.  It is a question being asked by ordinary residents, parents, business owners and taxpayers.

The answer is not vigilantism and it never should be.

But neither can the answer be for police, courts, housing agencies and government departments to simply shrug their shoulders and pretend yesterday’s events emerged from nowhere.

They were the product of a growing disconnect between the decisions being made inside institutions and the expectations of the communities forced to live with the consequences.

Yesterday was not simply an alleged assault.  It was a so-called “heads up” warning.

In less than 10 months, voters in Ballina will begin casting their verdict on the performance of governments, institutions and elected representatives when New South Wales goes to the polls.

Already, prospective candidates are talking about the environment, the health of the Richmond River, housing, development and growth.

All of those issues matter.

But perhaps the events of this week raise a more fundamental question.

What about the health of our community?

What about public confidence in the courts, our police system, and the institutions responsible for keeping people safe?

Because if hundreds of ordinary residents can look at the same set of facts and conclude that the justice system is no longer working, then that is every bit as serious as the health of a river, a koala population or a planning dispute.

The prosperity of a community depends not only on its roads, parks, beaches and natural environment, but on whether people feel safe, whether they trust the institutions around them and whether they believe the rules are being applied fairly.

Yesterday’s events suggest those foundations are under strain.

As the state election approaches, perhaps that is the conversation Ballina needs to have.

Not simply what sort of environment we want to leave for the next generation, but what sort of community we want to leave them as well.