The best thing you could say about the access to information law that it is a work in progress.

In fact, as the act stands now, it is little more than window dressing. The list of boards, meetings, governing bodies and records that are exempt from the act is the most extensive part. As well, there is a good deal of latitude for discretionary decisions by government ministers and their departments as to what will or will not be made available.

Even public health boards are exempt.

The cabinet is particularly well-protected. While ministers and cabinet business traditionally enjoy an understandable amount of privacy, the territorial access to information laws protect them for 15 years after the fact.

As a result, meaningful analysis of cabinet decisions by the electorate must wait until long after the players have left the stage.

The law doesn't even touch municipal governments. It is mind-boggling to imagine what could be going on behind closed doors in the municipalities that requires such iron-clad protection from the prying eyes of voters.

There is a difference between operating in a climate of political confidentiality and dropping a shroud of secrecy over the decision-making process.

At stake is the public's right to know how and why decisions are made. As well, the credibility of politicians and the very political process is on the line.

The speculation that follows secrecy undermines the necessary evils of governing. Politicians and policy-makers who cloak themselves in the privilege of confidentiality create public cynicism.

Now that the territories have an information and privacy commissioner, let's give her something to work with, a law with some teeth. Open government is more than a legislative gesture. If politicians are serious about serving the public, they should know that an informed public makes the best master.

Though there are exceptions to the usefulness of DNA evidence in court (remember O.J. Simpson?), it's hard to think of a better way to remove doubt over whether a suspect actually did what he or she is accused of doing.

But the release of Inuvik's Herman Kaglik (along with Saskatchewan's David Milgaard and Ontario's Guy-Paul-Morin), raises some thorny questions. For one, how do we apologize to those like Kaglik who have spent years in jail for crimes they didn't commit?

The truth is we can't. But we can make every effort to ensure it doesn't happen again by making full use of DNA and other scientific tests whenever possible. No matter the cost.

New regulations announced last week governing the way Northerners manage wildlife are an example of what's right with the political climate of the 1990s.

On the one hand, the territorial government's desire to streamline the regulatory process by reducing the number of often duplicative permits for outfitters and other businesses that depend on wildlife can only benefit the NWT economy. On the other, stiffer fines for those who don't play by the rules should encourage more responsible stewardship.

We need more such demonstrations that government understands the need to balance rights with responsibilities. It's a promising sign, indeed.