Editorial: Apathy Is Winning in Alberta’s Municipal Elections

In just 56 days, on September 22nd, nomination day for Alberta’s 2025 municipal elections will arrive. That date should be triggering excitement, fierce debate, and perhaps even some spirited lawn sign wars. Instead, the feeling across this province is eerily quiet, subdued, almost indifferent. And that should alarm every single Albertan who cares even remotely about the communities we live in.

Over the past few months, I’ve had conversations with numerous municipal leaders — those planning to run again, those stepping away, and even some who haven’t quite decided yet. One theme has been echoed time and time again, in coffee shops, on the phone, and behind closed doors: there is a stunning lack of interest in this year’s municipal election. Not just from voters, but from potential candidates themselves.

In 2021, Calgary alone saw a whopping 29 mayoral candidates and 101 people running across 15 city council races. That was democracy in full swing — messy, passionate, chaotic, but deeply alive.

As of July 28th, with under two months to go, Calgary has just two mayoral candidates filed. Only 30 people, who have filed the paperwork, are running for city council across the city’s 15 wards. That’s not just a drop in engagement. It’s a collapse.

So what’s going on? Why is Alberta, a province known for its fiery political debates and grassroots activism, sleepwalking into a critically important local election?

Are we simply “electioned out” after years of federal, provincial, and school board races? Have we lost faith in our municipal institutions? Or has the stress, scrutiny, and hostility faced by municipal leaders become so toxic that even our most community-minded citizens are saying, “No thanks — not worth it”?

The answer, I suspect, is a combination of all of the above.

Let’s start with the obvious. Over the last four years, being a municipal leader has become a punishing job. Local officials have endured a relentless barrage of personal attacks — not just from irate constituents, but from anonymous trolls online, and in some cases, even from higher levels of government.

A mayor told me recently that public life is no longer just about managing budgets, filling potholes, and planning neighbourhoods. It’s about surviving a daily onslaught of hate. In this atmosphere, where the work is high-stress and the gratitude low, it’s no surprise that many would-be candidates are choosing to stay on the sidelines.

We used to talk about a “silly season” in politics — that final stretch of the campaign when debates got heated and promises got grand. But this year? This isn’t silly season. It’s silent season. And silence in a democracy should never feel normal.

Another factor fueling this apathy is the slow, steady disappearance of local journalism. Fewer reporters are attending council meetings. Fewer media outlets are dedicating time to cover municipal affairs with depth and consistency. The result? Voters don’t know what’s going on — and many don’t even know who’s running.

I’ve yet to read a local news article that dives meaningfully into a candidate’s platform or scrutinizes their record, at least, not one that goes beyond a lightly edited press release.

How can voters hold anyone accountable if we don’t even know who they are?

It scares me. Not because I think we need horse-race coverage or viral campaign videos. But because the vacuum being left behind is creating space for mediocrity to thrive, or worse, for bad actors to coast into positions of power with zero scrutiny.

Let’s be brutally honest here: if this trend continues, we are on track for a record number of acclamations — races where only one candidate runs and wins by default. That isn’t a win for community stability. It’s a failure of democratic participation.

And if you think that doesn’t matter, just wait until you’re stuck behind the same pothole for three months or staring at another city budget filled with property tax hikes and service cuts. You’ll care then — but by that point, it’ll be too late.

Municipal government is the closest form of government to your daily life. It determines how long it takes to get your garbage picked up, whether your sidewalks are safe in winter, and how your neighbourhoods grow or stall. It manages your libraries, transit systems, recreation centres, zoning laws, police services, and local infrastructure. It is not a second-tier form of democracy. It is essential.

And right now, it is being dangerously ignored.

If you’ve ever thought about running — or know someone who has — now is the moment to act. Not next year. Not in four years. Right now.

Reach out to someone who has served. Ask tough questions about what the job really entails. Talk to your community. Look at what your local council has done, and decide if that aligns with the kind of place you want to live in.

We need passionate, thoughtful, resilient leaders to step forward — people who care about their neighbourhoods more than their egos, who see public office as a responsibility, not a platform.

But equally important, we need informed voters. People who pay attention. Who show up. Who challenge candidates. Who vote not out of habit or obligation, but because they understand that local government is where real change starts.

Let’s not sugarcoat this. The warning signs are everywhere. The lack of declared candidates. The absence of robust media coverage. The silence in our neighbourhoods and civic spaces.

We’re not just in a quiet election cycle. We’re teetering on the edge of a municipal cliff — one where indifference replaces engagement, and unchallenged incumbents (or worse, opportunists with no real plan) fill the vacuum left by our collective shrug.

And once we go over that edge, it will be hard to climb back up.

I’m just one voice — one small show in a very big media pond — but I’m sounding the alarm because the stakes couldn’t be higher. The next four years of municipal leadership will shape our province’s recovery, resilience, and future. Will we have strong voices at the table? Or just empty chairs?

If we don’t turn this around, if we don’t start having serious conversations about the future of our communities, we’re going to wake up after nomination day and realize we’ve handed over our towns and cities by default.

So here it is, plain and clear: you have 56 days.

If you’ve been thinking about running, this is your chance. Get your papers in. Talk to mentors. Talk to your family. Talk to your neighbours. But don’t just sit back and hope someone else steps up.

And if you’re a voter, then pay attention. Ask questions. Go to candidate forums. Watch how your council is behaving now. Do they earn your trust? Are they responsive? Are they solving problems? If the answer is no — then what are you waiting for?

Because come September 22nd, if half your council is acclaimed and your mayoral race is a one-person show, it’ll be too late to complain. And four years is a long time to be stuck with bad leadership because you didn’t bother to get involved when it counted.

Let’s not wait until the potholes multiply and the taxes rise and the services dwindle to start caring.

Let’s care now.

This is your moment, Alberta. Stand up. Or stay quiet for the next four years. But don’t say you weren’t warned.