In Defense of Small Communities and Their Stories

When the national news broadcaster takes on a small-town pump, the story that flows might not be worth bottling.

I’m feeling unwell about the CBC’s recent foray into Musquodoboit Harbour’s village pump politics. With a headline-grabbing piece on—you guessed it—a literal village pump, it’s almost endearingly on-brand for the public broadcaster. After all, they’ve been doing this sort of thing since they woke up: parachuting into small towns, squinting to find some quaint little controversy or division, and then broadcasting it to a national audience as if it were the latest dispatch from the frontlines of democracy.

First, I have to get this out of my system. It’s like the story of the big bucket on a short rope. It might not go down that well. But you can’t wish away well problems. I’m feeling a lot of pressure writing this. I just couldn’t leave well enough alone. You might think wells are boring. If you can't tell if I'm bored or dug I'll tell you, I’m really pumped up about this well story and want to get to the bottom of it. Wells are the only job where you start at the top and work your way to the bottom. I think that's deep. The first time I went there I almost fell in because it was dark and I couldn’t see that well. Now I’m not feeling well. Anyway, we’ll drill down to the source of the problem and I’m sure all’s well that ends well.

Can you dig it?

This time, the story involves a community well and the complexities of sharing public resources in a small rural village. And while the piece does its job of highlighting a real issue - a rare autumn drought, it does so in a way that misses the point entirely. There are hundreds of rural communities in Nova Scotia without shared access to consistent clean water. That should be the headline and the story. And it should keep being the headline until the basic infrastructure investments we need in this country are put in their proper perspective. What CBC also doesn’t capture—what it can’t capture—is the rich human tapestry of Musquodoboit Harbour, the quirks of its residents, and the essence of what makes living in a place like this so special.

Take a beautiful broad view…

Town Pump Politics: A National Pastime

The term “village pump politics”, not to be confused with Localism, is an old concept often pejoratively called Parish Pump Politics, evoking small-town debates that feel outsized to those involved but insignificant to outsiders. It can seem parochial. Especially when it’s about an actual local water pump. When national media swoops in, what might have been a neighborly spat risks becoming a spectacle. These stories are often sparked by some sour someone in the community who’s gotten cross enough to “tell on” their neighbors—hoping, perhaps, that the glare of national attention will bring some cosmic justice.

Instead, it usually just brings division. Communities like ours are delicate ecosystems, bound together by shared history, geography, and a healthy dose of knowing everyone’s business. Dragging internal matters into the national spotlight doesn’t resolve conflict; it escalates it. And it does so in a way that feels deeply unfair to the people who live here, who must now contend with being reduced to caricatures of rural eccentricity for an audience of millions… well, hundreds… tens for sure.

CBC must get these bitter calls all the time all over the country. It’s just human nature to call on a perceived higher power. You would think CBC would have some policies on this kind of thing, some discretion, and some decency when they dive between the sheets in the bedroom communities of the nation.

The Missing Heart of the Story

What’s frustrating is that there’s so much more to Musquodoboit Harbour than a quarrel over a well. This is a place of remarkable characters: storytellers, salt-of-the-earth doers, and unsung heroes who make life here richer and fuller. From the folks who volunteer their time to keep community events alive, to the neighbors who always seem to have a helping hand (or a spare roll of duct tape), this is a village defined by its amazing mix of people, not its pump.

To write a story about Musquodoboit Harbour and focus solely on a spat about water is to miss the lobster traps for the trees—or in this case, the community for the well.

Lobster Trap Christmas Tree in the Village Centre - Musquodoboit Harbour, Nova Scotia

A Modest Proposal for the CBC

What’s particularly frustrating is the phenomenon of “carpetbagging journalism,” where young, less experienced reporters are sent into small communities with little understanding of their culture or history. These cub reporters often arrive armed with preconceived notions and a mission to find a “colorful” story—usually something that feeds into urban stereotypes about rural life. Ironically, we’ve often seen them reporting on bears. The result is shallow, one-dimensional reporting that does more to entertain city readers than to reflect the truth of small-town living. Musquodoboit Harbour deserves better than to be treated as a proving ground for rookie journalists cutting their teeth on manufactured drama.

It’s not that rural communities shouldn’t be covered by national media. Far from it—there are so many incredible stories in places like ours that deserve a wider audience. But those stories need to be handled with care, discretion, and love. They shouldn’t be driven by a need to manufacture drama or to paint small towns as a kind of backwoods theater for the urban masses.

So here’s my suggestion for the CBC: Next time you come to Musquodoboit Harbour, put down the magnifying glass and pick up a glass at the local market, pub or eating place. Talk to the people who make this place tick. Take your time. Learn about our history, our triumphs, our struggles. Write a story that celebrates what makes us human, rather than one that sensationalizes our disagreements.

Diving in to Musquodoboit Harbour

The True Spirit of Musquodoboit Harbour

At the end of the day, Musquodoboit Harbour is more than its water woes. It’s a vibrant, messy, beautiful community full of life and love. We’ll sort out our differences, as we always do—not because of headlines, but in spite of them.

So thank you, CBC, for reminding us that the outside world is still curious about us. But next time you come calling, we hope you’ll see us for who we really are: not just a small town with a pump, but a big-hearted community with a story worth telling.