But those rules were tweaked during the pandemic to allow the wheels of local government to continue their slow grind online with elected members at home.
Nothing fell to pieces, but Rose using these as-yet unrevoked amendments to work from the South Island has riled many people if online comments are a fair barometer.
So why?
From a technical standpoint, performing most councillor duties from wherever is doable, especially if one has established community networks.
But we have all seen how digital echo chambers can lead people astray, which could have huge consequences in a governance context.
Living local issues is different from reading about them.
And letting people work from anywhere is hardly going to fix local government's age diversity issue (NZ elected member average age: 56-60; NZ median age: around 37).
So what does local representation really mean?
Local MPs, for example, spend lots of time in Wellington, away from their electorates - which some do not live in. Bay of Plenty MP Todd Muller lives in the Tauranga electorate and Botany MP Christopher Luxon's home is in Remuera, for example.
If Rose had moved to Rotorua - still in the region but out of his electorate - would anyone care?
This challenges the notion that localness is defined in black and white by geographical boundaries.
But we can surely accept central government representation is a different model from local government.
Local government is, well, local. It is residents of a place electing, generally, other residents to deal with local issues, on a far more granular level. They are expected to be accessible to all.
Voters have to live or own property in a place to vote there, but there is no rule requiring candidates to reside where they seek office.
In an election, the voters get to decide how much a candidate's home address matters.
Of course, it's a moot point in this debate because Tauranga voters got no choice in their regional council representatives in 2019.
The only five candidates in the constituency - 19-year-old Tauranga barber Rose plus four councillors up for re-election - automatically won the five seats and there was no contest.
As Rose said this week in response to criticism of his move: "This would have never happened if someone else ran in 2019. If they don't like it, they should stand people in council seats."
It's a chilling warning for local democracy everywhere - worse, in my view, than having people appointed to the roles (which at least involves a modicum of oversight) is the prospect of having to get what we're given.
If too few people run for a contest, the only qualification a candidate may need to help spend millions of dollars in ratepayer cash - and be paid for the privilege - is a desire to do so.
Rose's set of circumstances is unique and will be short-lived, but, in my view, the troubling precedent a mid-term relocation sets does matter.
The democratic credibility of local government representation is already under attack on many fronts - crushing voter apathy, low diversity, under-resourcing, community mistrust, online hostility, centralisation pulls and, now, sometimes too few candidates for a contest.
Giving up on local candidates being local would be another nail in the coffin.
If we stop caring about that, we may as well pack the whole system up and let Wellington swallow it whole.
