Editorial: Municipalities Need to Look in the Mirror Before Pointing Fingers

For the past two years, I’ve had the privilege — and, at times, the headache-of — of covering municipal politics and speaking one-on-one with elected officials at the local level. I’ve sat across the table from mayors, reeves, councillors, and administrators in town halls big and small. In those conversations, one theme has echoed across jurisdictions, and across provinces: municipalities are under pressure — financially, politically, and structurally — and they are calling, more loudly than ever, for fiscal reform.

They want a new fiscal framework. And they want it yesterday.

Since 2023, municipal governments across Canada have been clear in their demand: both federal and provincial/territorial governments have not kept up with the financial responsibilities they’ve offloaded onto local governments. Municipalities say they’ve been doing more with less for far too long. And they’re right — to an extent.

But amid all this, something crucial has been overlooked. The loudest cries for help are often not accompanied by a self-assessment. Because while it’s true that other levels of government haven’t stepped up their support, municipalities themselves have failed to hold up their own end of the deal.

And it’s about time they looked in the mirror.

Take Osoyoos, British Columbia, as a prime example. In early 2025, town council was forced to consider — and eventually debate — an 18 percent increase to the municipal tax levy. Eighteen percent. That’s a number that shocks the average homeowner and sets social media comment sections ablaze.

But here’s what gets buried in the outrage: this tax spike wasn’t the result of a sudden economic crisis or a surprise withdrawal of provincial funding. It was, in large part, the result of years — even decades — of deferred decision-making and a strategy of political convenience.

The town council was presented with over $9.7 million in capital projects. That’s not inherently problematic. Municipalities invest in infrastructure, plan for growth, and improve services — that’s their job. But the issue here is how those projects had been postponed, underfunded, or ignored until they became unavoidable.

One of the largest asks came from staff: $2.5 million to purchase land for easements and future infrastructure needs. A smart investment? Yes. A necessary one? Absolutely. But it also highlights a failure to plan ahead — or more precisely, to fund those plans at a time when the cost would have been significantly lower.

Among the other requests were $85,000 for a cemetery review that had been previously cut from the 2024 budget, $87,000 for asbestos removal from municipal buildings, and a proposal for nearly $1.7 million over three years to construct staff housing. These aren’t luxuries. They are responsibilities. And many were delayed, avoided, or sidelined due to an ongoing obsession with keeping taxes low.

But here’s the problem with perpetually passing zero percent tax increases: it doesn’t mean the cost of governance has gone down. It means you're paying today's bills with tomorrow’s money. It means you're not saving — you're stalling. And eventually, the dam breaks.

Municipal leaders like to brag about holding taxes steady. You hear it all the time during election campaigns and annual budget pressers: “We didn’t raise taxes this year!” That makes for a great soundbite — until the reality sets in. Because any businessperson, economist, or budget-savvy parent knows this truth: nothing stays the same. Costs go up. Salaries increase. Fuel, utilities, insurance, materials — everything gets more expensive over time.

So if you freeze your tax rates year after year, you have only two choices: cut services or defer expenses. And municipalities, unlike the federal and provincial governments, are legally required to pass balanced budgets. They can’t run deficits. So when revenue doesn’t go up, and costs do, the numbers have to be balanced somehow — usually by pushing off capital investments, delaying maintenance, or hoping for last-minute grant windfalls. It's financial whack-a-mole, and it's not sustainable.

Osoyoos is just one of many municipalities now facing the music. But this isn’t just about one town. It's a symptom of a larger culture of avoidance that permeates municipal politics across the country.

Another troubling trend I’ve observed in the past two years is this: municipalities complaining about responsibilities being downloaded from other levels of government, while simultaneously stepping outside their jurisdiction to take on roles they were never meant to fulfill.

We’ve seen this in housing. We’ve seen this in mental health. We’ve seen it in homelessness response and public safety.

Municipalities are sharing social media graphics to educate the public about “who is responsible for what” — a helpful campaign, in theory. But in practice, the same councils that cry foul about provincial overreach are quietly accepting those responsibilities anyway. They fund homelessness strategies. They start delivering public health initiatives. They establish housing authorities, run social programs, and set up climate adaptation offices.

Let me be clear: these are all important priorities. But they’re not traditional municipal responsibilities. And if a local government decides to expand its mandate, it has to also expand its budget. You can’t take on new duties and simultaneously campaign on zero percent tax increases. It doesn’t work.

So I ask: why are municipalities so eager to shoulder responsibilities that belong to other levels of government? Why are local councils saying yes, instead of saying “No, this isn’t our job”? Why aren't mayors “staying in their lane,” as the saying goes?

The answer often comes down to political optics and community pressure. No one wants to be the council that says “Sorry, that’s not our jurisdiction” when residents demand action. But when municipalities absorb every issue under the sun and then blame others for the fiscal strain, they are both contradicting themselves and doing their residents a disservice.

If you take on more, you have to fund more. And if you fund more, you need to raise taxes. Otherwise, you cut something else. It’s basic math — or, as I’d argue, basic honesty.

Don’t get me wrong. Federal and provincial governments deserve scrutiny. There’s no question that municipalities are often treated like the forgotten sibling at the dinner table. The infrastructure deficit is real. Grant systems are cumbersome and inconsistent. The property tax model is outdated and inflexible. Calls for a new fiscal framework are justified and necessary.

But let’s not pretend that municipalities are blameless. Too often, local leaders present themselves as the eternal victims in the political food chain. It’s a convenient narrative: “We want to help, but our hands are tied.”

Well, sometimes, their hands were tied by their own past decisions.

The “sins of the past,” as I like to call them, are haunting the present. Councils that refused to raise taxes now face crumbling roads, decaying buildings, and service reductions. Strategic planning documents gather dust while costs compound. Future councils are left holding the bag — and voters are left wondering why their bills suddenly jumped by double digits.

Municipalities want a seat at the big political table — and they should have one. But with that seat comes responsibility. You can’t show up, point fingers, and claim moral high ground without first doing your own homework. You can’t demand more money from others while refusing to raise any yourself. And you can’t demand accountability from others while denying your own role in the fiscal mess.

It’s time we had a grown-up conversation about municipal funding — not just between governments, but within municipal councils themselves. That conversation needs to start with an acknowledgment that part of the current financial strain is self-inflicted.

I know this isn’t a popular position. Municipal leaders work hard, face intense scrutiny, and genuinely care about their communities. They’re doing their best with the tools they have. But if we’re ever going to fix this broken system, we need everyone at the table — including municipalities — to own up to their role in it.

Blaming the feds or the provinces only gets us so far. If you’re still passing zero percent tax increases in 2025, ask yourself: what services did you cut? What roads didn’t get fixed? What maintenance got deferred? And how much more will it cost five years from now?

And, If you're saying yes to new responsibilities, ask yourself: did you explain the cost to your residents? Did you increase taxes to fund it, or did you shuffle dollars from somewhere else and call it innovation?

And if you're campaigning on being fiscally responsible while voting down every tax increase, ask yourself: is it really responsible, or just politically convenient?

Canada’s municipalities are the level of government closest to the people. They plow our streets, approve our developments, and fix our potholes. They are essential. And they deserve more respect — and more resources — from higher levels of government.

But respect is earned. And credibility comes from honesty.

The road forward isn’t easy. It involves tough decisions, higher taxes, and frank conversations with voters. It involves saying no when a problem isn’t yours to solve. And it involves owning up to past mistakes, even when it’s uncomfortable.

If we want to build resilient, well-funded, forward-thinking municipalities, we have to stop chasing political optics and start confronting fiscal reality. The era of “zero percent” needs to end. The era of grown-up governance needs to begin.

Because in the end, a zero percent tax increase isn’t a win — it’s a warning. And unless we face that warning head-on, the next budget crisis will make Osoyoos look like a rounding error.