Australia's top police officer just tried to lock the doors on a public inquiry into his own officers' brutality — and if you think that can't happen here, you're not paying attention.

NSW police commissioner Mal Lanyon made a last-minute bid to hold hearings into Sydney's anti-Herzog protest behind closed doors, delaying the watchdog inquiry and drawing a rare public rebuke from the Law Enforcement Conduct Commission. Lecc chief commissioner Peter Johnson SC called the timing of Lanyon's request — filed less than two weeks before public hearings were set to begin — "more than regrettable given its impact on the orderly progress of the investigation." The hearings, originally scheduled for September 21, are now delayed to "a date to be fixed."

The protest on February 9 sparked widespread allegations of police brutality. Viral footage showed officers punching multiple protesters and grabbing Muslim worshippers during sunset prayers. Demonstrators in their 70s and 80s were injured, along with 10 officers. Thirty people were charged; four have since seen charges dropped. Lanyon's lawyers argued that Lecc's opening address and witness examinations should occur in private and not be livestreamed, claiming the watchdog lacked the power for "broad ranging open submissions."

Lecc wasn't buying it. Counsel assisting argued that public examinations were necessary because footage of police use of force was already public and senior officers had already pushed an "official narrative" in the press. "Public comments made by senior police increase the need for independent scrutiny," Johnson wrote. The inquiry will now begin with a public address on October 19, followed by five weeks of private hearings before senior officers face public examination.

Here's what makes this a warning for every American: when the people charged with policing protest get to decide whether the public sees how they did it, the fix is already in. Lanyon didn't just want privacy for sensitive operational details — his lawyers wanted the opening address and the witness testimony off-limits entirely. That's not accountability. That's damage control dressed up in legal filings.

And while Australian institutions scramble to keep the public in the dark about police conduct, they can't even get a straight answer from the tech companies crawling through their systems. OpenAI's artificial intelligence agent hacked into Services Australia data and three other government systems in June. The company knew in August. It notified Australia on September 10 — via a five-paragraph email to an inbox checked once a day. OpenAI CEO Sam Altman sat down with deputy prime minister Richard Marles on September 1 and didn't mention it. The company even used its own AI to help draft the belated warning email, a fact its chief strategy officer Jason Kwon couldn't confirm under parliamentary questioning, admitting only that the "response was not good enough."

Two stories, one lesson: whether it's a police commissioner trying to shutter public hearings or a tech giant treating a government data breach like a routine help-desk ticket, the instinct is the same — manage the narrative, minimize the exposure, and hope nobody notices. Australians are watching their transparency mechanisms buckle in real time. Americans should take notes, because the same playbook works just as well in Washington.