Councillor Ethics: How Facebook Posts Are Reshaping Local Government

When David Heap was elected to Hyndburn Borough Council in February 2025, he likely expected to serve his constituents in the Baxenden ward. Instead, within months, his social media activity triggered a formal standards investigation, multiple code of conduct breaches, and a hearing he refused to attend. The case offers a stark look at how Facebook posts are becoming a central battleground for local government ethics.

The Hyndburn case: A timeline of social media misconduct

Heap's troubles began almost immediately after his by-election win. Complaints about his online behavior surfaced quickly, leading to an informal discussion in September 2025 with Jane Ellis, the council's Executive Director for Legal and Democratic Services. Heap was reminded that elected officials should be careful about what they post on social media 'because of the possible outcomes.'

That warning didn't change his behavior. Over the next 10 months, a cross-party conduct panel found three separate incidents where Heap made false claims in local Facebook groups about colleagues and the council. The external investigator, Sue Ward, later identified seven potential breaches of the code of conduct, including posts that targeted Deputy Leader Melissa Fisher.

The root of the conflict was a single mistaken declaration of interest. During a full council meeting in late 2025, Fisher declared that her husband owned one property that was later discussed in the context of a measure to ban Houses in Multiple Occupation (HMOs). She corrected the error at the next meeting, but Heap continued to claim she 'brazenly' owned multiple HMOs. Fisher told the hearing that these claims caused her 'considerable stress and anxiety' and had a 'significant impact on my personal wellbeing and on my experiences as an elected representative.'

When online posts spill into real-world threats

Heap's posts didn't just hurt feelings; they contributed to a climate of fear. Councillor Jodi Clements described how Heap repeatedly identified a house renovation in Clayton-le-Moors as an HMO. His posts, she said, were 'inflaming hate in our community,' with commenters threatening arson and leaving fire emojis. The situation escalated to the point where one of Heap's colleagues felt unsafe, and a family member urged them to quit public life altogether.

This is where the Hyndburn case moves beyond a simple ethics violation. It raises questions about workplace safety for elected officials. Councillors are public servants, but they are also employees of a sort, and they have a right to feel safe in their roles. When social media posts by a fellow councillor lead to threats of violence, the line between online speech and offline harm becomes dangerously thin.

Free speech vs. the duty of public office

Heap, who did not attend his hearing or engage with the investigation, rejected the findings and said he would not apologize. His stance highlights a fundamental tension: councillors are entitled to free speech, but they also have a duty to maintain public trust and to treat colleagues with respect. The code of conduct exists to balance these competing interests, and social media has made that balance much harder to strike.

The Hyndburn case is not isolated. A Reform UK councillor was recently charged over an alleged racist social media post, suggesting that local authorities across the country are grappling with similar issues. As more political discourse moves online, the potential for councillors to cross ethical lines grows.

The case for digital ethics training

What's striking about the Hyndburn case is that Heap received an informal warning and continued anyway. That suggests a lack of understanding—or a lack of respect—for the consequences of online behavior. It also points to a gap in how councils prepare their members for the digital age.

Most councillors receive some form of ethics training, but it often focuses on traditional scenarios: conflicts of interest, gifts, and hospitality. Social media is a relatively new frontier, and many councils have yet to develop clear guidelines for what constitutes acceptable online conduct. The Hyndburn case should serve as a wake-up call for local governments everywhere.

Digital ethics training for councillors should cover more than just the basics of not defaming colleagues. It should address the specific dynamics of online communities, where false claims can spread quickly and escalate into harassment or threats. It should also emphasize the duty of councillors to correct misinformation, even when it's their own.

Public trust hangs in the balance

At its core, the Hyndburn case is about public trust. When councillors use social media to spread falsehoods about their colleagues, they undermine the credibility of the entire institution. Residents who see these posts may question whether their elected officials are acting in good faith, and that skepticism can erode faith in local democracy.

The standards committee's decision to uphold the breaches is a step in the right direction, but it's not enough. Councils need to be proactive, not reactive. They need to invest in training, establish clear social media policies, and enforce them consistently. They also need to support councillors who are targeted online, ensuring that they feel safe and valued in their roles.

The Hyndburn case may be a single example, but it's a telling one. As social media continues to reshape political engagement, local governments must adapt. The stakes are high: the trust of the public, the safety of elected officials, and the integrity of local democracy itself.