This is Oakland, so it isn’t surprising that a demonstration staged on the floor of the City Council’s chambers has disrupted city business.

But last week’s disturbance during a Rules Committee session was remarkable because it was caused not by rowdy protesters, but by a council member trying to stop her colleagues from unraveling absurd new marijuana business permit rules she had pushed — and they had approved — back in May. Councilwoman Desley Brooks held the floor for 40 minutes to try to block the effort, and oh by the way, to push for an ethics hearing into the committee’s chair, council President Lynette Gibson McElhaney.

Brooks was there to make a scene, and she performed with acerbic composure. She and McElhaney sparred politely, throwing jabs with rolling eyes and words slowly over-pronounced.

“What you’re attempting to do is do what you do to the public,” said Brooks, who has repeatedly derailed attempts to rewrite the new rules, called equity permits, which would benefit residents of her district and ally Councilman Larry Reid’s, but which could cost the entire city a lot of money. “You can’t do that to me. I actually know the rules.”

Councilman Dan Kalb’s patience wilted.

“We can’t go on with these lies we’re hearing at the microphone,” he snapped. “You’re insulting yourself. This is ridiculous.”

He was right. The display was ridiculous. But it was also comical, because Kalb — and the rest of the council — share the blame with Brooks for approving pot rules that could prevent Oakland from cashing in on what could be a massive source of tax revenue. The council knew the equity program presented by Brooks was questionable. And now, thanks to the council’s foolish decision in May, it’s included in the laws that regulate the city’s cannabis businesses.

The stickiest part of the program is that whenever the city grants a “general” permit to a new pot business, it must also grant an “equity” permit to someone who satisfies a complicated set of rules. Like having a past marijuana conviction. And having a half ownership stake in the new business. And living in a police beat with many previous marijuana arrests. By sheer coincidence, those are all in Brooks’ and Reid’s districts.

If no one fits the criteria, then no one — even the general applicant — gets a permit.

Still, the council unanimously approved it.

“I felt that, well, we’ve got to pass something,” Kalb told me this week. “Amendments kind of got pushed through without proper vetting. There was a consensus that we had to pass something.”

Critics have warned that few people would meet the program’s strict criteria, thus creating a logjam of general applicants. The council should have known Brooks would stir the pot.

Now, Oakland’s system is on hold while council members have a hard time even discussing the next steps. Brooks’ dramatics forced McElhaney to end the Rules Committee’s meeting early. No action taken.

Council members will next try to figure it out at a special meeting on Nov. 14.

You’ve seen the council act like this before, and it always stinks for Oakland residents.

In August 2014, the council awarded the city’s $1 billion garbage franchise to California Waste Solutions, a recycling company without trucks, trash bins or sorting and disposal facilities. Waste Management, which had hauled the trash for more than 100 years, then sued the city.

A month later, the council members reversed themselves and handed the 10-year contract to Waste Management. They could have saved themselves time if they had followed the advice of city staffers who argued against selecting California Waste Solutions in the first place.

But the council couldn’t save residents, who suddenly saw their garbage bills soar because of hidden service fees baked into the Waste Management agreement.

Whoops.

Now, as the council entangles the city in its latest costly scheme, Brooks, Reid and Councilman Noel Gallo want to require all pot businesses — and anyone who leases property to a pot business — to kick 25 percent of their profit back to the city.

Show me an entrepreneur willing to hand over a quarter of his or her profit without knowing how the money will be spent. Then I’ll show you a failing business model.

While I support Brooks for pushing for equity in the billion-dollar pot industry, I believe the program’s requirements will shut out businesses — and residents who want to shop locally. Has equity — or equality — ever been achieved by excluding people because they don’t fit a profile?

“As the industry grows, we want it to be good for everybody,” Kalb said. “We’re not going to ignore equity.”

Here’s something else that can’t be ignored: Even with a city permit, a cannabis business can’t operate without a state license. As The Chronicle’s Rachel Swan reported, the plan to give preferential treatment to people with past pot convictions might not get high off the ground because state law empowers regulators to deny marijuana business licenses to such people.

If so, then the recent theatrics were much ado about nothing. Why buy theater tickets when Oakland stages tragicomedies for free?

Otis R. Taylor Jr. is a San Francisco Chronicle columnist whose column appears Tuesday and Friday. Email: otaylor@sfchronicle.com Twitter: @otisrtaylorjr