A new county-commissioned study released this week confirmed that roughly 73% of all “public input” in Pinellas County comes from the same 11 residents, a small but highly dedicated cadre of meeting regulars who officials say have become “a functional pillar of local government.”

The report, compiled using public comment logs, Zoom transcripts, and several years of people approaching the podium with a manila folder and a look of purpose, found that the 11 individuals account for the overwhelming majority of speaking time at city councils, county commissions, and advisory boards that were originally designed for a broader slice of the public.

“They’re basically our full-time public,” said one county staffer. “We could hold a meeting about sewer lines and they’d still show up with a printed agenda, a pen, and something personal they need to get off their chest.”

Researchers described the group as a loose network of civic hobbyists who operate on a consistent schedule and appear to share an unspoken code: arrive early, claim the same seats, and make sure you’re the first one to say “good evening, commissioners” into a microphone that has heard too much.

The study found that the average Pinellas resident provides public comment approximately once every 14 years, usually after being pushed to a breaking point by traffic, construction noise, or a neighbor’s yard situation. Meanwhile, members of the core 11 average 2.7 comments per week, not including follow-up emails, additional attachments, and the kind of handwritten letters that begin with “I have lived here since 1974 and I will not be ignored.”

County officials stressed that they value all community voices, but admitted public comment sessions have increasingly resembled a recurring cast of characters rather than an open forum.

“It’s like local theater,” said a St. Pete city employee. “You don’t know what the issue will be, but you know who’s going to be mad about it.”

The report also noted the group’s distinct behavioral traits, including their ability to cite ordinance numbers with zero hesitation, their insistence on referring to projects as “this monstrosity,” and their uncanny talent for turning a three-minute time limit into seven minutes of uninterrupted momentum.

One subsection of the report was dedicated entirely to “Podium Rituals,” including the habitual phrase, “I’m not gonna take up much time,” which researchers confirmed is “never true.”

Other observed patterns included the tote bag stuffed with printouts, the stapled packet of “concerns,” and the ceremonial clearing of the throat before announcing, “For the record…”

Several members of the core 11 expressed surprise at the findings, saying they believed their participation level was normal and that more residents should be showing up.

“I’m just engaged,” said one Clearwater man who has attended 312 meetings since 2019 and still refers to Zoom meetings as “televised.” “If people don’t show up, that’s on them.”

Others described public comment as a civic duty and a form of personal wellness.

“I speak for the silent majority,” said a Largo resident, pausing only to adjust her glasses and flip to page three of her prepared remarks.

The study also found that Pinellas officials have quietly adapted meeting formats around the core group over time, including installing sturdier microphones, creating extra overflow seating, and developing a facial expression staff refer to internally as “the public comment smile,” designed to communicate patience while absorbing grievances about bike lanes.

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