Editorial: Mandatory Training Won’t Fix Alberta’s Municipal Conduct Problem

There is a great deal we still do not know about the regulations Alberta will eventually put around its new provincewide framework for municipal councillor accountability.

What we do know is that the Alberta government has moved well beyond simply talking about changing the rules. Bill 28, the Municipal Affairs and Housing Statutes Amendment Act, 2026, received Royal Assent on May 14, creating the legislative foundation for a provincewide councillor accountability framework. The government says further regulations and guidance will fill in important details about how that framework will actually operate.

The government has argued that the old municipal code-of-conduct system had become a patchwork of different rules that could be used as political weapons.

The 2025 changes eliminated municipal councils' ability to create their own codes of conduct, with the province promising to develop a more consistent approach. The government's argument is not unreasonable. Municipal councillors should be accountable. Residents should have somewhere to turn when an elected official crosses a line. Councils should not be allowed to weaponize an internal process against a councillor simply because that councillor disagrees with the majority. But as Alberta waits for the next stage of this framework, there is one idea that deserves serious skepticism: mandatory training.

If the regulations eventually require municipal leaders to sit through a mandatory course on codes of conduct, ethics or civility, the province should think twice. Because there is a difference between requiring someone to attend training and actually changing how they behave. And if Alberta's goal is to improve the culture of municipal government, attendance should not be confused with accountability.

We all know how mandatory training works. Walk into almost any workplace and announce that everyone must complete a course. Suddenly, a familiar ritual begins. Someone opens the presentation. Someone else checks their phone. Another person stares blankly at the screen while thinking about what they are going to have for lunch. Eventually, the test arrives. Most people pass. The box gets checked. The certificate gets issued. And everyone goes back to work. That is not necessarily a criticism of training itself. Good training can be extremely valuable. The problem is what happens when training becomes the solution simply because it is easy to measure. Completion is measurable. Understanding is harder. Behaviour is harder still.

If Alberta tells every municipal councillor that they must complete a mandatory code-of-conduct course, it will be able to say that every councillor has been trained. What it will not necessarily be able to say is that every councillor understood the material, believed in it, or changed their behaviour because of it. That distinction matters. Municipal politics is not a classroom problem. It is a human problem. Councillors are elected from different backgrounds, with different personalities, different political philosophies and different ideas about what their communities need.

Inevitably, they will disagree.

They will frustrate one another. They will sometimes say things they regret. That is politics. The objective should not be to eliminate disagreement from municipal government. A council where everybody agrees with everybody else is not necessarily a healthy council. In fact, it could be the opposite. The objective should be to establish a system where disagreement can happen without turning into intimidation, bullying, personal attacks, retaliation or abuse of office. A mandatory course cannot accomplish that by itself.

The province's new framework does, however, contain some potentially useful structural ideas. According to the government's legislation guide, complaints would be investigated by independent third parties selected from a provincial roster, with municipalities paying the investigation costs. The minister would be able to initiate an investigation, with the ministry covering those costs. The framework would also create an appeal process involving a roster of appeals commissioners, while the minister would retain discretion to accept, reject or adjust recommendations. Those mechanisms deserve far more attention than whether councillors have successfully clicked through a PowerPoint presentation.

A good accountability system should be designed around what happens when something goes wrong. Who can complain? What qualifies as misconduct? Who investigates? Who decides whether a complaint has merit? What protections exist for councillors who are wrongly accused? What protections exist for complainants? How quickly does the process work? Who pays? What happens when an investigator and a council disagree? And perhaps most importantly, how do we prevent the system from becoming another political weapon? Those are the questions that will determine whether Alberta's new framework succeeds, not whether everyone attended the seminar.

The government's stated goal is greater consistency and public trust. That is worth pursuing. Alberta's municipalities range from enormous cities to tiny rural communities, and expecting every municipality to design and administer its own accountability system can create inconsistencies. The government has also recognized that smaller municipalities may not have the administrative sophistication or resources of larger ones. During debate on Bill 28, Municipal Affairs Minister Dan Williams pointed to the need for a quicker and less expensive appeal mechanism than relying on the courts. That is a legitimate concern. But consistency should not become centralization for its own sake, and accountability should not become bureaucracy for its own sake.

There is also a larger principle at stake here: personal responsibility. We sometimes seem to believe that if we can write enough rules, people will inevitably behave properly. They won't. Rules matter. Consequences matter. Institutions matter. But character matters too. A councillor who understands that their job is to serve the public, listen to constituents, respect fellow councillors and recognize the difference between political disagreement and personal hostility probably does not need a six-hour mandatory course to understand the basic principles of decent behaviour. And a councillor who does not understand those things is unlikely to have a sudden moral awakening because the provincial government made them attend one.

That is why Alberta should be careful about trying to reshape municipal leaders through mandatory education when it could instead reshape the system around them.

Make the rules clear. Make the process independent. Make investigations timely. Make decisions transparent. Make consequences meaningful. Give councillors an avenue to appeal. Give complainants confidence that their concerns will be taken seriously. And make sure the province itself cannot use the accountability system selectively for political purposes. That would be a framework worth taking seriously.

There is another reason to be cautious about mandatory training: it can create the illusion that the problem has been solved. Imagine five years from now. Every councillor in Alberta has completed the required course. Every municipality has the necessary paperwork. Every box has been checked. And yet councils are still fighting publicly. Councillors are still accusing one another of misconduct. Complaints are still being filed. Residents are still frustrated. Municipal leaders are still behaving badly. What then? The province will be back at the table. Another review. Another round of consultations. Another set of amendments. Another training course. At some point, we have to ask whether we are fixing the problem or simply documenting that we attempted to fix it.

There is an old assumption that mandatory means effective. It doesn't. Mandatory simply means required. That distinction is important. A driver's licence requires testing, but nobody would seriously argue that passing a test makes someone a permanently excellent driver. Anyone who has spent time on Calgary's Deerfoot Trail or Edmonton's Anthony Henday Drive knows that possessing a licence and demonstrating good judgment are two very different things.

The same principle applies to municipal leadership. Passing a code-of-conduct course does not make someone a good councillor. It simply means they passed a course. Good municipal leadership comes from judgment, temperament, accountability and a willingness to listen. Those qualities cannot be downloaded into somebody's brain through mandatory instruction.

So what should Alberta do instead? Start with the system. If the government wants more civility, create incentives for constructive behaviour. If it wants transparency, require meaningful disclosure. If it wants accountability, establish a process that people can actually trust. If it wants councils to work better, ensure the rules distinguish between legitimate political disagreement and genuinely unacceptable conduct. And then let elected officials take some responsibility for the rest. Municipal leaders are, after all, adults who voluntarily put their names on ballots. They asked residents for their votes. They asked residents to trust them with public decisions and public money. We should expect them to understand that leadership comes with responsibility.

That does not mean refusing to educate councillors. Quite the opposite. Training should be available, useful and practical. Municipal associations, the province and municipalities could provide resources that councillors actually want to use. Experienced councillors could mentor newly elected officials. Workshops could focus on real-world scenarios rather than abstract rules. Councillors could be encouraged to participate in continuing education because it makes them better at their jobs. There is a major difference between saying, "You have to sit through this," and creating something so useful that councillors genuinely want to attend.

And if the government insists on making some form of training mandatory, then it should at least recognize its limitations. Completion should never be treated as proof of ethical leadership. The real test should be what happens when the council is under pressure, when a vote is contentious, when a colleague disagrees, when a resident is angry or when a councillor realizes they have made a mistake. That is where character is tested. That is where accountability matters. And that is where a certificate on a wall means very little.

Alberta has an opportunity here.

The province has already decided that the old patchwork approach was not working. It has now created a provincewide legislative framework intended to provide greater consistency, independent investigations and a formal appeal process. Now it has to get the next part right. Don't confuse regulation with leadership. Don't confuse attendance with engagement. Don't confuse passing a test with learning a lesson. And, above all, don't assume that making something mandatory automatically makes it effective.

If Alberta wants better municipal government, it should build a better system for municipal government. Then trust the people elected to lead within it. Municipal leaders are supposed to be adaptive. They are supposed to be resourceful. They are supposed to solve problems.

Give them clear expectations and meaningful consequences, and then hold them accountable when they fail. If the province does that, its new framework might actually improve municipal government. If it simply adds another mandatory course, another certificate and another box to check, we should not be surprised when five years from now we are right back where we started — asking why the rules haven't changed the behaviour.

Because sometimes the problem isn't that people haven't been told what to do. Sometimes the problem is that we have built a system that assumes telling them will be enough.