Editorials - April 3, 2026
Mutual respect
Incivility in municipal politics is on the rise in Canada. A Windsor man’s threat to kill the mayor was taken seriously by police, and ultimately the justice system. Last week, he pled guilty to a single count of harassing and threatening to kill Mayor Drew Dilkens. He was sentenced to time served, three years’ probation and three years’ restriction keeping him 100 metres from the mayor, his family members and his residence and banning him from inside city hall.
Locally, a man has been charged with assault after an incident involving a North Huron councillor after a meeting in February. Police were called to two other North Huron Council meetings after people in the gallery contravened municipal bylaws involving recording meetings and refused to stop and had to be escorted out by police.
While these may be two extreme examples, in a 2025 Canadian Municipal Barometer survey of elected officials, about 63 per cent of respondents said they had experienced some form of harassment during their term or campaign. A recent report by the Ivey School of Business noted that this rise in bad behaviour is costing councils and communities. Councillors, CAOs and their staff are frequently yelled at by the public and spend an inordinate amount of time fighting online misinformation.
This is all making it harder to recruit and retain council members and municipal staff, costing communities in the long run. Let’s try to bring a bit of decorum back. We don’t have to agree with everything the council or the municipality does, but we need to have respectful discourse. – DS
Champions of nothing
After being left in the dark on job cuts discussed by Huron County Council in closed-to-the-public meetings, council’s decision is now clear. The cost-cutting measure of axing 13 positions was not trimming the fat of a bloated workforce of paper pushers, their assistants and their assistant’s assistants, it was to gut cultural programming and climate change initiatives in a tremendously short-sighted move for a community that’s actively working to recruit new residents.
There are some who will agree with the move. The taxed-to-death, libertarian crowd that will stomp any throat for a tax cut will see these cuts as being no big deal. And yet, a growing community’s bread and butter - young families - will see this as one less reason to move here. What is there to do? Nothing. How is Huron planning for the future? It isn’t, but never mind that, have you seen this well-maintained bridge?
Times are tough and budgets are tight - there’s no doubt that’s true. And yet, an often-overlooked aspect of governance is that you’re, in a way, creating a life for the very people who hand over their money. A municipal budget is often reduced to a balance sheet; numbers on a page or a problem to solve. Soon enough, it becomes easy to cut this and cut that to keep the tax rate down. But, when you lower the sheet in front of your face and you look out at your community, you may find that you’ve cut everything that makes living there worth it.
Some residents may barely notice that the events and programs have been cut, while others will mourn them as the end of an era. Others still may wonder if this is, with tough budget years ahead, the beginning of the end. First it was cultural services and climate change, then it was libraries and museums, then it was arenas and parks. We can hope it’s hyperbole, but council has now shown what its priorities are. – SL
The guy behind the guy
The federal NDP has made its choice. Congratulations to Avi Lewis on a clear first-ballot victory, a mandate that arrives with both urgency and possibility. With the Liberals edging rightward, there is now open ground on the left for the NDP to reclaim. It is a stretch of political terrain that has not disappeared so much as it has been left untended, waiting for someone willing to plant ideas that are both ambitious and grounded. But open ground is not the same as firm footing. Rebuilding a party reduced to the margins will take patience, discipline and a renewed connection with Canadians who have drifted away.
Tony McQuail’s campaign brought rural issues into a race that might otherwise have remained comfortably urban in both tone and focus. He spoke with the authority of lived experience, reminding the party that a national vision cannot afford blind spots. He also sharpened the case for electoral reform, not as an academic ideal, but as a practical necessity.
McQuail’s run cleared hurdles that quietly end campaigns before they begin, built a credible and engaging online presence and modelled a rare kind of politics. It collaborated more than it clashed, finding ways to engage with other candidates without turning difference into division. And yes, it did so under that signature farmer’s hat, a small but stubborn emblem of authenticity in a polished arena. It became a visual shorthand for a campaign that refused to sand down its edges, choosing instead to show up as it was, confident that honesty could carry its own appeal.
Politics often rewards the victor, as it should. This time, it should also remember the campaign that expanded the conversation. – SBS