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Best guesses and the disapproval process

It would be less than truthful to say wastewater is the furthest thing from my mind right now. It would be completely truthful, however, to say Whistler’s wastewater battle is the furthest thing from my mind right now.
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It would be less than truthful to say wastewater is the furthest thing from my mind right now. It would be completely truthful, however, to say Whistler’s wastewater battle is the furthest thing from my mind right now.

It’s a cold, dreary, thoroughly British spring day. A stiff breeze is blowing from the southwest. A brisk chop punctuates the English Channel yawing to the horizon past the breakwater off the stern of the pirate vessel Is There 2 . The world’s a watercolour study in shades of grey, a horizon lost in the mist where darker grey bleeds into ever so lighter grey, presumably the sky. At least it’s not raining… for the moment. Rule Britannia.

To the extent wastewater is a pressing issue, it is pressing only as it relates to my stubborn inability to remember the sequence of events needed to keep a marine toilet from becoming a fountain instead of simply flushing. This being a thoroughly modern pirate ship, the issue boils down to which button to push first, not whether to fly my personal colours from bow or stern or do some arcane dance of levers, checkvalves, pumps and backflow pressure regulators, whatever those are. Still, while in port, the long walk to the marina facilities seems, in the end, easier.

But since it would be unseemly to leave the overworked Mr. Barnett wondering whether this is a week he should fall back on one of the rerun columns I left him in case this ship’s satellite system proves as weak as English coffee, here goes. Besides, by this time next week we’ll be plundering the Bay of Biscay and the last thing on my mind will be… what was it again, oh yeah, to P3 or not to P3. Barring a revelation of stunning malfeasance, I promise these are the last words I’ll ever write about the subject.

The effort to get 892 bona fide Whistler electors to sign the Elector Response Form, saying "Thanks, but no thanks," to going the private route in expanding our town’s beloved poo plant, has snowballed to the extent it seems likely to reach the required number. Given the time of year, the absence of many bona fide electors who are melting the season out of their bones on some beach, the rush of many others to leave town and put their Whistler years behind them, and the general lack of interest in the subject, that’s no small feat.

But even the relative success – word used advisedly – of this effort by a small group of people for whom this is a passionately interesting subject, underscores one of the myriad flaws with which this bogus procedure is so plagued. If this were a referendum campaign and the Nay side had gotten off to such a robust start, the Yea side would have an opportunity to muster their troops, marshal their arguments, roll out their own squadron of scare tactics and attempt, in a thoroughly democratic way, to turn the tide in their favour. Who knows, maybe they’d be successful in garnering a few more votes for their side; maybe they wouldn’t.

But there’s no room for them to play in this game. The Alternative Approval Process isn’t an approval process at all. It’s a disapproval process measuring only the power of the forces against the municipality taking this step. It is, at best, an interim reading on the depth of resistance. If successful, council might say, "Whoa. Guess we misjudged the level of opposition to this idea. Let’s drop it." Or, they might say, "Screw ’em. Let’s take it to a vote." In which case they could really get their collective heads handed to them… or they could prevail. Either way, a referendum, while longer and more expensive, gets all the issues aired, not just one side or the other. And it avoids the added delay of possibly going to referendum after doing the AAP dance.

And then, of course, there is the glaring flaw of the potential for fraud inherent in the AAP. At the end of the day, June 12 in this case, there’ll be a stack of two-page forms at muni hall. They’ll have someone’s name printed on them, an address and a signature. There is no possible way to verify the qualifications of the people who signed these forms. None. There is no list of eligible voters against which to check them, no census information, no proof of their bona fides .

Of course, that gets to the whole issue of just how the 892 number came to be the holy grail. It too is, at best, a guess based on outdated census information and unreliable voter registration lists.

I’m not suggesting there is any, let alone widespread, hanky panky afoot when it comes to getting people to sign the Elector Response Form. Just the potential.

Kind of like the potential for signed forms to go missing at muni hall. When you or I cast a ballot in an election, or referendum, we fill in our ballot and slip it into a locked ballot box. The box is opened and counted in the presence of witnesses. When I handed in my signed form, it went into a pile of papers on the receptionist’s desk. When it’s counted… well, no one’s quite sure what happens then. Flawed, flawed, flawed.

But then, let’s be honest. This is a process offering, at best, the appearance of participation. It’s designed to allow a vocal opposition to go through the motions, fail and then be told they had their say. It’s the quicker, cheaper version of citizen engagement. Democracy-lite.

Which is one good reason to sign the form.

The others mostly revolve around the unknown, the future. Canada’s recent and protracted battle with the U.S. over softwood lumber has, if nothing else, proven two things. One is there’s no such thing as free trade with the U.S. unless it is clearly in their interest. Like we needed another lesson in that.

The other is this: The strength of your legal argument is less important than the strength of your opponent. The U.S. lost repeatedly before courts and trade tribunals. So what? In the end, it was their way – negotiated, restricted, trade – or no way.

Now, in his opinion, the Muni’s outside counsel said going the P3 route posed no legal threat to Whistler’s future ability to keep its water supply out of the commercial realm. He may be absolutely right. And it may not matter whether he is or not. But there’s no doubt that whatever argument we can muster in the future on the subject will be a lot stronger if we’ve opted to keep our downstream public works public instead of private.

That’s it. I’m going pirating.