Much as I sympathise with Jay Weatherill’s outrage over the City Council’s latest foray into Idiotville, there is something disingenuous about it.

But I welcome it, nonetheless. And I believe the Premier believes it is genuine and heartfelt. After all, why wouldn’t a Premier be outraged when he dedicates his entire legacy to realising his vision of South Australia as a city-state whose supposedly nascent prosperity will emanate from the beating of its vibrant heart, only to be thwarted by a third-tier flashmob which thinks “vibrant” is the setting you put your mobile phone on during council meetings.

I do, of course, also sympathise with these so-called “bricks-and-mortar” businesses who have to pay through the nose for rates and rent. It was heart-warming to see their landlords selflessly go into bat for the huddled masses, by lobbying the council to clamp down on their competition (instead of, y’know, reducing their rent…).

After all, these interloping “food trucks” have a well-documented “unfair advantage” over many other city businesses. Namely, that they sell stuff people want to buy.

Which is kinda the idea of competition.

True enough, the overheads aren’t as high. Nowhere near. But we are so often told by politicians and business experts that we need to collectively think outside the square (or on the Square, in the case of many of these mobile vendors), to be bold, to challenge the orthodoxy which has led us to this age of stagnant mediocrity.

But whenever anyone actually does any of these things, our collective response is to regulate.

Certainly not to encourage businesses feeling threatened by the arrival of new, eclectic vendors to consider why their occasional intrusion brings with it previously unseen foot traffic, and to ponder what they can do to capitalise on the influx.

No, the aim is not to make the established business more appealing, but to make life harder for the new arrivals.

By forcing up rates. By limiting their incursion. One way or another.

So that soon enough, the council can look from food truck to bricks-and-mortar eatery, and from bricks-and-mortar eatery back to food truck, and find it impossible to say which is which.

Council may complain that food trucks add to a burgeoning oversupply of vendors, but it’s hard to make a compelling case for a lack of city traffic when successive councils strangle the Golden Goose by increasing parking fees, and so forth.

So, it’s no wonder Weatherill is fuming.

Our entire political system seems orchestrated to self-sabotage. If our city can be compared to a toilet bowl (and of late, I suspect it can), the State Government often resembles the down-trodden janitor using all its might to scrub and polish it back to a passable shine, only for the Council to stride in and piss all over it again.

But, as I say, it’s nonetheless a bit rich.

For while Jay talks about his anger that “Old Adelaide” is crushing “young entrepreneurs trying to do a few new things” (he’s a big fan of Young Entrepreneurs, by the way – if you happen to be one, I’d recommend you make him an offer for some Crown Land and see how you go), the problem is he doesn’t really believe his own arguments.

For instance.

“It’s not the role of council to be intervening in the market in this way.”

This seems a perfectly logical claim by the Premier, but there is a key qualifier: in this way.

You see, Weatherill is a big believer in governments intervening in the market.

Indeed, it’s at the core of his considered political philosophy.

“We believe there’s an important role for government to make the business environment as attractive as possible, but also to step up to ‘de-risk’ investment decision,” he said in his opening speech to InDaily’s SA Business Index lunch this week.

On driverless cars, he sees his Government not as merely a facilitator for private enterprise, but as a key stakeholder, in “developing the technology, testing the vehicles and perhaps one day even building them”.

Make no mistake, Weatherill believes the hand of Government should intervene in the private sector; at the very least, to direct traffic.

So where does the City Council’s regulatory zeal fit into this philosophy?

“All it is doing is sending a message to young people that actually this place is closed for business,” says Weatherill.

“We want to send them a message that it’s open and you can have a crack if you want to.”

You know, like the message the State Government keeps sending to Uber.

You’ve heard of Uber; they’re a bunch of Young Entrepreneurs who have tried to do a few New Things.

To which the State Government’s response is invariably to declare it in breach of regulations (one promotion was deemed illegal because it fell one cent below the $5 fare threshold; heaven forbid customers should be allowed to pay less than the Government deems necessary in a commercial transaction!). Or to hold a long-winded review, giving the established taxi businesses ample opportunity to demand Government step in to protect their interests against the insurgent threat of rival businesses offering a service that people (gasp) actually want to use!

It’s always amusing to see the same business types that so often rail against the dead hand of Government literally insisting that governments of any tier or hue protect them from the whims of their precious market.

But the irony persists because they never fail to find a willing saviour in the public sector.

So the next time the Adelaide City Council pays one of its regular visits to Idiotville, it should ask the State Government for directions. Hell, they’ll probably share a cab.