By the Coral Gables Gazette editorial board

The Coral Gables City Commission passed a new decorum ordinance last week, adding four behavioral rules aimed at restoring order in public meetings: No eating or drinking in chambers, phones must be silenced, attendees must wear shirts and shoes, and entry and exit should be quiet. Reasonable? Certainly. Transformational? Probably not.

The ordinance’s text is largely uncontroversial. But the meeting that produced it was anything but. The debate revealed not just a city trying to codify standards—but a civic culture still struggling to heal.

Mayor Vince Lago introduced the ordinance with the stated goal of improving the tone of public discourse. He cited similar policies in other municipalities and framed the changes as modest. “These are simple things. Every other community has them. Every other municipality has them,” he said. “And I think it’s time that we rein in the conduct here in the commission meetings so we can run an efficient meeting so that we’re respectful to people’s times.”

That message, on its face, should have been unifying. Instead, it became combustible.

A tense exchange with longtime resident and City Hall fixture Maria Cruz quickly escalated. Cruz had earlier criticized the mayor for leaving the dais during an employee recognition ceremony, calling it disrespectful. Later, away from the microphone, she made a remark that appeared to offend the mayor. He responded by declaring a 15-minute recess and issuing a formal warning. “Ms. Cruz, this is your first and only warning. The next one you will be removed for the entire day of the commission meeting. Fifteen minutes,” he said.

To be clear, the enforcement policy reflects common practice in other public forums. But the tone and focus of the mayor’s remarks made it difficult to separate the procedural from the personal. Cruz is a persistent critic. Her presence—and her persistence—clearly unsettle him.

Later, Commissioner Melissa Castro raised concerns about decorum being used selectively, particularly when residents are named publicly and denied a chance to respond. Lago did not offer a measured reply. “Remember, for two years, you ran ruckshaw on this commission. Run ruckshaw. You did as you pleased. You did whatever you wanted. You took away my staff. You did all kinds of ridiculous things just to make my life as difficult as possible,” he said. “All I’m doing here today is I’m trying to maintain control of the commission.”

This was not about food or phones. It was about frustration. About perceived disrespect. About political wounds that haven’t healed.

Commissioner Ariel Fernandez, a staunch First Amendment advocate, voted in favor but sought explicit legal confirmation that the ordinance did not infringe on speech rights. Commissioner Richard Lara, who ran on restoring civility, called the changes minor—but made a larger point. “To me, it feels clearly it’s an enforcement issue. We’re not wholesale amending anything… it’s a minor modification,” he said. “If collegiality leads the day… we would never need to reach into the code for enforcement.”

He’s right.

Decorum can be outlined in ordinance, but it must be upheld through example. Rules set boundaries. Culture sets tone.

That burden falls first on the dais. When elected officials lose their composure, residents follow their lead. When residents are treated as adversaries, they respond in kind. The mayor may feel disrespected, and may even have reason to. But respect is not enforced through warnings and cameras—it is earned through restraint, consistency, and a willingness to listen, even when it’s uncomfortable.

We do not doubt that every member of the commission wants to restore civility. They heard that message on the campaign trail. So did we. And they are right that civility makes for better meetings, better decisions, and better governance.

But that goal won’t be reached through dress codes or audio alerts alone. It begins with tone. With restraint. With a conscious effort to move forward, rather than relitigate the past. The second reading of the ordinance is still to come. Its passage is likely. Its impact will depend not on the language in the code, but on the spirit with which it is enforced—and the example set by those at the top.