Roles and responsibilities

Last week in a planning meeting, members of council heard the story of Bloomfield-area resident who, when faced with financial and personal challenges elected to create a pair of apartments in what were once farm-related buildings. She didn’t have permission when she built, and rented out these apartments on her rural property. She appeared before the planning committee last week, seeking its belated permission.

By all accounts the units are well-constructed, attractive and moderately priced. Given the lack of affordable housing in Prince Edward County, reasonably priced rental apartments are sorely needed.

The problem is that the property owner lives on a rural property that until a few years ago was part of a much larger farm. Apartment dwellings, much less those created in outbuildings, are not permitted in rural areas. There are issues with water and septic services. There is increased risk of conflict with nearby farming practices.

But mostly it runs counter to the policies set and established by our elected officials to govern such development—policies that define how the community grows, where it develops and respects the traditions, heritage, natural beauty and environment that define living in Prince Edward County.

Notwithstanding these issues, 10 members of council voted unanimously last Wednesday to grant the property owner a “special exception” enabling her to rezone the land, after the fact, to recognize the two one-bedroom apartments.

I don’t know if these two apartments outside of Bloomfield are a good or bad thing for the County as a whole. There are strong arguments of both sides. But that is entirely beside the point.

Council can’t make up policy on the fly. Even if it is well-intentioned. Even if the alternative is unpalatable. Even if it causes hardship.

Suddenly rural property owners are waking up this morning to discover the shed/barn/lean-to out behind the house is a potential income generator. If this decision is allowed to stand, renovators may be busy over the next weeks and months converting any manner of garage or shed into rental apartments across the rural countryside.

And, who knows, that might be a good thing. But it hasn’t been thought through. The implications haven’t been assessed or measured. The myriad risks haven’t been tallied. Worse, this kind of seat-of-the-pants decision-making likely won’t withstand a legal challenge.

Of course, one day, this property owner will sell her home and the two apartments. It could be many years from now—it could be next week. The special exception granted to this property owner will flow to the next owner, and the owner after that. Is that really what the committee intended?

Council, along with the province, sets the rules about what we can and can’t do with our land. We may bristle at this fact—but council can’t simply change the rules because it hears a good or appealing argument. Otherwise there would be no point in having rules at all.

The truly ironic bit is the County is currently in the midst of rewriting its Official Plan—the document that paints the broad strokes about what we want our community to look like, where we live, work and play.

It seems this might have been the more appropriate It seems this might have been the more appropriate venue to rewrite policy—particularly one that opens the door to such a radical shift in the use of rural properties and their outbuildings.

Too often, it seems, County Council tends to forget what its job is—and what it is there to do. Many council members yearn to be seen as the kindly country judge who presides over the complaints of squabbling neighbours and brings forth a decision that, ideally sends everyone home happy—or at least a bit less squabbly. It is, I think, a profound  misunderstanding of the job.

Council’s primary role is, it seems to me, to set direction, craft policy and procedures, as well as measure performance and progress toward its stated goals. But this is hard and, at times, tedious work. The rewards are less immediate and less tangible.

It is much more stimulating to sort through individual conflicts—picking winners and losers than it is to consider the rules and remedies that address the underlying issues. But when they do this, they risk undermining their very purpose.

It makes true the County maxim: do whatever you want, pretend you didn’t know the rules, and plead for forgiveness afterward.

If that is true—we don’t need a council. We need only a kindly judge.

rick@wellingtontimes.ca