The Mega City Mess

The allure of amalgamation, an ambitious political trend that surged through Canadian cities primarily in the late 1990s and early 2000s, promised streamlined governance and economic efficiencies. Cities from Halifax to Toronto and beyond embraced the idea of merging smaller municipalities into monster urban centers. But as the dust and pyretic slate settles, a generation later, the shine of amalgamation's promise seems considerably tarnished. It's time to critically examine its origins, evaluate its outcomes, and consider the pressing need to decentralize power back to vibrant local communities.

 The Genesis of Amalgamation

Amalgamation's roots in Canada are deeply intertwined with the economic theories of the late 20th century, advocating for scale and efficiency. Canada’s business schools were churning out MBAs. And they all wanted to apply Business School theories to Government in the name of efficiency. But Government is not like Business. And efficiency is not the singular goal.

In Ontario, for example, the Fewer Municipal Politicians Act of 1996 by Mike Harris’s Progressive Conservative government sparked widespread amalgamations, including the controversial creation of the Toronto mega-city in 1998. Proponents argued that larger cities would reduce overhead costs, streamline services, and eliminate redundant staff and services.

But government is Not a Business

The notion that government should operate like a business has gained traction over the years, with advocates pointing to the efficiency, accountability, and cost-effectiveness that business practices purportedly bring. However, this perspective oversimplifies the role and goals of government, particularly when it comes to public sectors crucial for societal well-being, such as health, environment, education, and social services.

Unlike businesses, which are driven primarily by profit and shareholder value, government has the broader mandate of public service and societal welfare. Its primary goal isn't efficiency in the economic sense, but rather effectiveness in delivering services that maintain and enhance the quality of life for all citizens. This includes ensuring accessibility, equity, and sustainability, which often means investing in "inefficiencies" like more teachers, healthcare workers, environmental scientists, and social workers.

The sectors of health, education, environment, and social services are fundamentally about human outcomes and societal health, which do not always lend themselves to the same metrics of success used in business. For instance, the success of environmental policies might be measured in terms of biodiversity preserved or reductions in carbon emissions rather than dollars saved. Similarly, in education, success might be better measured by improvements in student engagement and achievement across diverse communities than simply through graduation rates or standardized test scores.

As Robert Kennedy remarked in his speech about GDP. Governments have to learn to count what counts.

Cutting jobs in frontline areas under the guise of increasing efficiency can have long-term negative impacts on societal well-being and economic stability. Reduced staff in healthcare can lead to longer wait times and decreased patient care quality, just as fewer teachers can lead to overcrowded classrooms and diminished educational outcomes. In environmental and social services, fewer workers mean slower responses to crises like natural disasters or public health emergencies and less support for vulnerable populations.

The real measure of government effectiveness in these areas is not how closely it resembles a business, but how well it can deliver comprehensive, equitable, and sustainable services that address the complex needs of its citizens. This approach recognizes that an investment in public sector jobs is also an investment in the very fabric of society, fostering a healthier, more educated, and resilient population.

 How It Happened

I’ve written in detail about How We Got Amalgamated in Halifax

The implementation of amalgamation was often top-down, driven by provincial mandates. This approach sparked considerable resistance from local communities who feared loss of identity and control over local governance. In Halifax, the consolidation was similarly contentious, with debates centered around the dilution of rural interests in the face of urban priorities. And that concern cut the other way as urban centres grappled with how they could supply and sustain city services for sparsely ribbon-developed roadways and declining rural communities. These mergers were often seen as "forced marriages," and they were - leading to a clash of cultures and priorities among amalgamated communities and their representatives at City Hall.

 The Dubious Results

A generation on, the results of amalgamation are mixed at best. Unexamined and unknown at worst.

While some administrative efficiencies were realized, many of the promised financial savings have proven elusive. Government has continued to grow – a problem in its own right – and the ideological underpinning – like reducing competition – now seems questionable. In Toronto, for instance, rather than diminishing, the costs of governance increased, alongside rising dissatisfaction among residents feeling disconnected from a now distant and all-powerful city hall where Wizard of Oz departmental potentates rule over vast siloed fiefdoms. Studies suggest that any fiscal benefits were often offset by increased expenditures on salaries for newly centralized and bloated bureaucracies.

Worse, the one-size-fits-all governance model imposed by amalgamation often stifled local innovation and responsiveness along with natural leadership, politically active citizens, and unique new grassroots ideas.

Small towns and villages couldn’t workshop ideas because workshops were literally not allowed by city planning, along with a labyrinth of other restrictions. The diverse needs of communities within large urban sprawls were homogenized, leading to a bland uniformity in service provision and a lack of tailored local policies.

Communities are now paying more taxes and fees than ever but they are effectively without government or core funding for governance of any sort. What few municipal politicians who are left become punching bags for citizens who feel they are without representation and resent City Hall’s all-powerful bureaucracy and utopia of rules.

 The Case for Decentralization

The current discourse, especially at the community level, is increasingly in favor of decentralizing authority back to local communities. There's a growing recognition that smaller, nimble municipal units are better suited to respond to the unique challenges and opportunities they face. These communities are incubators for innovative policies—from environmental sustainability initiatives to economic development projects—that reflect local values and aspirations.

Reinstating local governance could rekindle civic engagement. Empowering communities to have a say in their governance reinvigorates democracy at the grassroots level, and fostering a sense of involvement and ownership among residents would be a good thing. This could be particularly transformative for communities that have felt sidelined in the big-box municipal frameworks.

Recognizing the revolt in all corners of the kingdom, the courtiers at city hall proposed maybe the one thing that can make matters even worse – Community Councils. These bodies create basically a fourth level of government, but without budgetary power, finances, decision-making power or control and they are still often far removed from the beating and dreaming hearts of vibrant and ambitious communities keen to try new things.

 What next?

We shouldn’t stick with our mistakes just because they cost a lot of money and we spent a long time making them.

The Canadian experience with amalgamation offers crucial lessons for municipal governance worldwide. As we look to the future, it's important to reassess and potentially reverse the mega-city model. This doesn't necessitate a return to the fragmented landscape of yesteryears but calls for a thoughtful recalibration where political power and decision-making are as close as feasible to the community level. Communities should know their budgets, their resources, and their limits. to get there communities must know where their taxes come from and where they go. Decentralization is a first step in keeping community wealth in communities while sharing and cooperating where and when it does good and makes things better.

Local competition isn't just about rivalry but about providing a mosaic of choices and fostering municipalities that can truly tailor their approaches to the specific needs and dreams of their residents. And where did we get the idea that competition is bad? Imagine how many great hockey players and teams we’d create if we “Amalgamated” the NHL and just had the players skate around the rink in standardized formations.

As we revisit the legacy of amalgamation, the dialogue must shift towards how best to empower communities—making them not just administrative units, but dynamic, competing visions of what cities, towns, villages, and rural regions can be. It's time for decentralization to take center stage, enabling cities to innovate, serve, and thrive as distinct entities within the broader regional tapestry - a community fo communities.

Ironically, the first step requires all the natural communities to get together; to recognize they are not alone in their struggles, and speak up with a united voice to call for action. The time for studies and reviews has been missed. Citizens and communities have formed opinions. It’s time for action through ballot initiatives, petitions, and an organized campaign to have the provincial government begin the process of decentralization – deamalgamation. It’s the province that empowers municipalities to work through the Municipal Government Act. Now, that same power that created top-down big-box municipalities must also set them free.

It starts with an honest accounting of property taxes – where they come from and where they go by community. Then each community will, for the first time, know where they stand, so they can decide where to go from here. Some may see a financial benefit from deamalgamation. Some will see a brighter future. Some will simply see more control to shape the community they want.

Big box government in a small province was never going to work. A community of communities is better.

Post Script – A Note On Change

Margaret Mead's famous claim, “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has,” resonates profoundly when we consider the decentralized governance of local communities. However, a crucial modification to this maxim: the addition of "organized." Organized Citizens.

While the original drive for amalgamation was top-down, influenced by a blend of power-mongering, 80’s business school orthodoxy, ideological dogma, administrative convenience, and economic rationalization, the ongoing challenges and dissatisfaction among citizens highlight the necessity for a bottom-up approach—one that is not just thoughtful and committed but also organized.

The essence of this perspective is that mere enthusiasm or commitment, while essential, is insufficient without a structured framework that guides such energies toward sustainable outcomes. As we reflect on the sprawling mega-cities, a pattern emerges: mavericks, rebels, disruptors, contrarians, and challengers abound, but without coherent organization, their potential to effect real change is often diluted—transformed into mere noise rather than a directional force.

It's too easy for the big bureaucracy to swat away the angry and self-interested. It’s the jujitsu of the bureaucrat to suggest studies, reviews, community councils, working groups, new departments – more spending and more government to deal with the need for less.

Organized citizenry in the realm of decentralized, smaller municipal units could serve as a formidable counter to the inefficiencies and disconnects brought by amalgamation and the great government army that they must face. These organized groups, deeply embedded in their local contexts, can better advocate for and implement tailored solutions that reflect the unique needs and aspirations of their communities. They embody the potential for a dynamic and responsive governance model, one that truly aligns with Mead's vision of world-changing small groups.

This approach will empower communities, enabling them to not only envision but also effectively realize innovative and diverse futures for themselves within the broader regional fabric. In this way, we can ensure that change, when it comes, does so with direction, purpose, and sustainability, truly reflecting the will and welfare of the people it is meant to serve.