Sometimes Better Just Means Worse
- Simon Guthrie
- 3 days ago
- 4 min read
Updated: 3 days ago
If you skim the headlines, it can feel like more of the same: another bill, another review, another “streamlining” of how our cities and schools are run. But put the pieces together and a clear picture emerges: Queen’s Park is steadily pulling more power up and away from local communities.

In the last year, the Ford government has taken the extraordinary step of sending provincial supervisors into multiple school boards sidelining trustees voters actually elected. At the same time, Education Minister Paul Calandra has mused openly about “overhauling an outdated school board governance model,” with rumours and trial balloons about collapsing Ontario’s 72 boards into a handful of large provincial bodies. Unions and opposition parties have warned this would make schools less responsive to local needs, not more.
Municipal government has been getting the same treatment. First came “strong mayor” powers in a few cities. Then, in the name of speeding up housing approvals, those powers were expanded again and again until, as of May 1, 2025, mayors and heads of council in 169 additional municipalities gained the authority to push through budgets and by-laws that line up with provincial priorities, even over the objections of a majority of councillors. In practice, that means fewer checks and balances at city hall, and more decisions that can be made from the mayor’s office with only a minority onside.
Regional councils haven’t been spared either. The government passed legislation in 2023 to dissolve Peel Region and carve Mississauga, Brampton and Caledon into separate single-tier cities, triggering a massive transition process, only to abruptly reverse course months later and keep Peel in place. Just this month, rumours have been circulating that the Chair of Waterloo Regional Council will be appointed by the province (instead of being elected), and that at-large councillors will be removed. This should be seen as the crisis that it is. You can read about that here.
The province has also turned its attention to conservation authorities. These are the watershed-based agencies that manage flood risk, protect rivers and wetlands, and advise municipalities on development. On October 31, 2025, the Ford government announced plans to create a new Ontario Provincial Conservation Agency, a provincially-appointed body that would oversee and “modernize” the system and consolidate Ontario’s 36 conservation authorities into just seven large regional authorities. The official pitch is familiar: more “consistent” permitting, less “duplication,” faster approvals for housing and infrastructure. But conservation authorities themselves are sounding the alarm. Several boards have warned that this is the most dramatic change to Ontario’s environmental management system in roughly 80 years, and that folding dozens of local watershed agencies into a few super-authorities risks losing on-the-ground knowledge and weakening local accountability.
Taken together, it’s a pattern: fewer elected trustees with real power, fewer councillors able to block or amend decisions, local watershed agencies rolled into giant regional bodies with more authority concentrated in provincial hands and in a small number of “strong” local executives. Supporters call it “cutting red tape” and “making government more efficient.” Critics call it what it looks like: centralization, and a steady erosion of local democracy.
It might be tempting to shrug and say, “Good! Government is too big anyway.” That’s a familiar slogan. It’s also the wrong lesson to take from all of this. Most of the public decisions that actually touch our daily lives are local:
whether your kid’s school has an EA in the classroom;
whether there’s a safe crosswalk or a bus route on your street;
whether new housing gets built in your neighbourhood, and what kind;
whether floodplains are protected and your basement stays dry;
whether that shelter, library branch, or community centre stays open.
Those decisions are made in school board meetings, council chambers, and conservation authority boardrooms by people who know the local context, who can bump into you at the grocery store, who hear from you at public meetings and town halls. When the province sidelines trustees, hands mayors the power to override councils, restructures regional government from Queen’s Park, or proposes to amalgamate conservation authorities into a few giant regional bodies, it doesn’t make those decisions go away. It just moves them further from the people they affect.
And because the province is so powerful, restructuring isn’t neutral. It changes who gets heard and how accountability works. Do you get to elect the people making decisions about your school? Can your councillor actually block a bad by-law, or has that power been shifted up the chain? Will your conservation authority still be rooted in your watershed, or folded into a region so big that “local knowledge” becomes a slogan instead of a reality?
So, here’s where I land. Local governance is not a nuisance to be managed from Queen’s Park. It’s a cornerstone of a healthy democracy. When it’s working well, local government:
Brings decisions closer to the people they affect, instead of pushing them further away.
Creates multiple points of accountability — trustees, councillors, regional reps, mayors, conservation authority boards — instead of concentrating power in a few hands.
Allows different communities to solve problems in different ways, while still coordinating on big regional challenges like housing, climate, and transit.
Protects the land and water we all rely on, by tying land-use decisions to real knowledge of local rivers, wetlands, and flood risk.
Gives residents real, practical ways to participate: delegations, committees, school councils, watershed advisory groups, neighbourhood planning processes, and more.
That doesn’t mean school boards, councils, regions or conservation authorities are perfect. Far from it. We’ve all seen meetings go off the rails and been frustrated by important decisions that move too slowly. But the answer to those problems is not to strip away layers of local democracy and hand more power to Queen’s Park. The answer is better government:
clearer roles and responsibilities so boards, councils, regions and conservation authorities aren’t tripping over each other;
modern, transparent decision-making so residents can actually follow what’s going on;
fair, stable funding so local bodies aren’t forced into crisis-driven cuts;
real support for public engagement, so it’s not just the loudest voices who get heard.
We don’t need “less government.” We need better government! That starts with defending local democracy, not dismantling it. If we care about our schools, our housing, our water and our communities, we should care (a lot) about who’s making the decisions, and how close they are to home.






