Collectors

The County has a hoarding problem. Or, more precisely, County Council has a hoarding problem. It’s not knickknacks or keepsakes crowding out our shared living spaces; instead, it is land and buildings. Like piles of old newspapers no one has looked at or thought about for years, Council clings to scattered bits of property. Many are forgotten. Some neglected. Most require extensive repairs and upkeep.

Nevertheless, Council can’t—or won’t—let them go. It’s a problem.

Context is needed. Shire Hall will blow through its debt limit this year. It is spending dozens of millions of dollars it doesn’t have. On roads and bridges. A long-term care home. Waterworks. It is squeezed continually between ambition and duty. Yet Council is unable to part with its vast and expanding collection of real estate assets, either to fund its responsibilities or to mitigate its liabilities.

Why? Because something might happen someday. Because someone else might make money on it. Because someone suspects their cousin’s neighbour might have lost their virginity there. Because deciding today means foregoing the possibility of tomorrow. Because. Because. Because.

It’s pathological. It may require an intervention.

Shire Hall brought a short list of properties to Council earlier this month—odd and scattered bits that staff wants to declare surplus to the County’s needs. It is a necessary first step to initiate the legal and administrative process to dispose of these properties. It should have been dead easy.

Of the eight properties, five are patches of land—three might have been gravel pits once, another once served as the parking lot for a deconsecrated church in North Marysburgh, and the other is a lot on Sheba’s Island. There is a barn along the Millennium Trail in Consecon, a shed in Hillier, and an old garage that once served as a fire hall on the Heights.

Now, it must be said—before continuing—the municipality doesn’t know how many properties it owns. Or where they are. An attempt to count them a decade ago produced an estimate of 120 properties and 88 buildings.

An initiative, finally, to dispose of a handful of these derelict assets should have been music to Council’s ears. This was the lowest of the lowhanging fruit. A well-adjusted, properly focused Council might have looked at this list, said thank you, and wished staff Godspeed.

But alas, this isn’t how this story goes. It rarely is.

Some councillors were uneasy about parting with any properties until a complete and comprehensive list had been compiled. Others got bogged down in the surplus/appraisal/ legal process. Some worried about where staff would eat lunch or make phone calls if dislocated from the former fire hall at the Heights.

But just as one council member cautioned his colleagues against second-guessing staff on what was clearly an operational function— at such a preliminary stage—the second- guessing picked up speed. That’s when a councillor sought to carve out one of the properties from the list. In their ward. Because heritage? Park maybe? Ditches are deep? A former councillor might have commented to the current member they considered it had potential. Potential for what? For whom? Who knows?

The property-shedding plan was unravelling before it could begin.

The property eyed by the council member is a tall barn structure on Salem Road—a former grain terminal next to the Millennium Trail in Consecon. It has been empty for years. Unused. Yet, the County is spending money to replace the roof. Money it doesn’t have.

This Pandora’s jar of misery and expense was only put back in the box when the council member was assured that nothing on the list would be sold without their say-so. The list would come back—and Council would retain the right to reject any potential sale.

The 45-minute hoary debate illuminated the challenges of a motley assortment of part-time folks governing a municipality burning $75 million a year and managing $1 billion of assets.

Buying and selling things in any other context resides decidedly in the realm of management. Sure, there are some strategic bits management will bring to its board if they are no longer core to the direction of the business. But it is the management’s job to manage its assets, not the governance layer.

Moreover, with Council’s hoarding affliction, it really ought to have recused itself from the asset disposal process. They will always find reasons to cling to unused things—no matter how gossamer thin.

If and when discussing strategic assets—say, the Crystal Palace or Shire Hall—by all means, let’s have councillors roll up their sleeves and argue over the merits of this or that bit of property.

But not about a derelict old barn. Nor an old fire hall in disrepair. Or a pile of old newspapers.

rick@wellingtontimes.ca