| The
board that rules over our lands
Critics claim OMB has
become developer friendly
By David Lewis Stein
Toronto Star Staff Reporter
The Ontario Municipal
Board. Its very name reeks of a stolid, apolitical bureaucracy.
An all-powerful one.
``The board has become
the Supreme Court of land-use planning,'' observes Jane Pepino, a
prominent land use lawyer.
Glenn DeBaeremaeker
is less diplomatic.
``It's a dictatorship,''
says DeBaeremaeker, head of the group Save The Rouge Systems, which
is at the OMB to oppose a developer's proposal to build 12,000 houses
on the Oak Ridges Moraine north of Toronto.
In fact, the Oak Ridges
Moraine - a 160-kilometre long ridge of glacial sand and gravel that
absorbs and filters water before releasing it into 30 rivers and creeks
across southern Ontario - has become the latest OMB battleground, with
armies of developers and their lawyers on one side, and armies of
environmentalists and their lawyers on the other.
Somewhere in the middle
is the board itself - 27 appointed men and women who, when it comes
to deciding how land will be used in Ontario, have the final say.
In the last year alone,
the board issued some 1,500 rulings on matters ranging from backyard
fence lines to the official plan for Ottawa-Carleton.
`We listen to evidence that's put before us and we try to decide what is
in the public interest. . . . We try to follow precedent, but we are not
bound by precedent the way a court is.'
- OMB chair Doug Colbourne
Today it is scheduled
to take up the Oak Ridges Moraine, one of the hottest development
issues to hit the Greater Toronto Area in a decade.
All last week the board
was tied up in preliminary hearings for subdivisions elsewhere on
the moraine, in Uxbridge and Aurora.
This fight over the
Oak Ridges Moraine has aroused citizens right across the 905 region
of Greater Toronto, from Caledon in the west to Clarington in the east.
It is, residents argue,
nothing less than a last-ditch struggle to contain urban sprawl.
Town council in Richmond
Hill and the council of the surrounding region of York have already
turned down the developers. For its part, the province has created a
map of build and no-build zones.
But none of that means
anything when it comes to the OMB. Under no obligation to listen
to these elected politicians, it can still approve 12,000 new houses on
the Richmond Hill patch of the moraine.
The Ontario Municipal
Board, whose 27 members are appointed by the provincial cabinet,
has extraordinary powers, and some observers are convinced its members
have become too developer friendly. Although some may well be too ready
to please big business, the problem's the system and the way provincial
governments have changed the ground rules for the board.
Blame the rules of
the game, not the players.
There is nothing like
the OMB anywhere else in Canada. In other provinces, municipal councils
make land-use decisions. If citizens don't like them, they can appeal
- but only to the courts, and then only if they can can argue that council
has gone beyond its powers.
In this province, the
Ontario Municipal Board occupies an extremely privileged zone somewhere
between elected councils and appointed judges.
In fact, as a quasi-judicial
tribunal, the OMB has almost absolute authority over what we do with
our land. Any alteration - whether it's a room you're thinking of adding
to your house, or a subdivision you want to build on the Oak Ridges
Moraine - can be appealed to the board, which has the final say.
`In theory, the system
is not unfair. The trouble is, the theory
doesn't work'
These days, developers
don't even have to wait for a municipal council to rule on a plan
before going to the OMB.
There was once a time
when developers needed permission from the municipal affairs minister
to bypass local councils and go to the board.
Then the Conservative
government of Premier Mike Harris changed the rules, allowing developers
to go directly to the OMB 90 days after they applied to a municipal
council for development approval.
Now it's a right. It's
automatic.
In Richmond Hill, the
developers appealed to the OMB before there was a decision to appeal
- their proposals hadn't even been considered by the town council. When
the elected councils of Richmond Hill and York Region eventually said no,
it didn't matter. The board can still say yes.
In effect, Queen's
Park has given up its power to overrule board decisions - a non-partisan
development that occurred when first the Conservative government of
Bill Davis and then the New Democrats under Bob Rae took steps to end direct
appeals to cabinet.
That leaves an appeal
to Divisional Court as the only option when it comes to challenging
a board ruling. This costs a lot of money and will probably get you
nowhere because courts only rule on narrow points of law, not on whether
the OMB has harmed or helped people.
Ordinary citizens who
take on developers at the OMB can find themselves at hearings that
run like trials, with witnesses being sworn in and cross-examined by
lawyers.
And it costs. Big-time.
Katie Lyons, president
of the municipal section of the Canadian Bar Association, says expert
witnesses like planners, engineers - or, in the case of the moraine,
hydrogeologists - command $150 to $250 an hour, while a mid-range lawyer
gets $170 to $300.
One Richmond Hill developer,
Joe Lebovic, has already spent more than $500,000 on expert witnesses
for the Oak Ridges Moraine hearing.
And that, say environmental
groups, leaves them at a terrible disadvantage.
``We don't have any
money,'' says DeBaeremaeker of Save the Rouge. ``We'll be going into
this with one hand tied behind us.''
Wynn Walters of the
Citizens Alliance of Uxbridge, which has been raising money to fight
developments there, agrees the system is broke.
``In theory, the system
is not unfair,'' he said. ``The trouble is, the theory doesn't work.''
It wasn't always this
way. There was a time when citizens adored the OMB.
The province created
the board in 1897 to watch over municipal spending and, over the
years, added other responsibilities.
After World War II,
when cities began sprouting suburbs, the province passed a planning
act setting out steps local councils had to follow when turning farmland
into housing.
The act required municipalities
to make ``official plans,'' setting out where new housing should
go. And Queen's Park added urban planning to the board's responsibilities.
In 1969, the board
made what many consider its most far-reaching decision. Toronto had
long thin ``strip wards'' running north from the lake and the middle-class
people at the north end could organize to outvote people in the poorer
neighbourhoods south of Bloor St., thereby keeping reformers and other
riffraff off city council. The board drew up ``block wards'' that
divided Toronto along Bloor St. and linked up the poorer neighbourhoods.
In the 1969 election, voters elected a clique of reformers that included
John Sewell and David Crombie, trendsetters whose ideas about protecting
neighbourhoods dominated Toronto in the 1970s and still influence
politics across the region.
The OMB chairman at
the time, J. A. Kennedy, was a cantankerous, owlish, old conservative,
but he liked to tell people the board's initials stood for ``ombudsman.''
Kennedy certainly gave
the people a voice. He cleared the way to killing the Spadina Expressway,
a north-south gash through some of Toronto's most established neighbourhoods,
a roadway envisioned as the first of a whole new inner-city grid of
expressways.
A three-person OMB
panel ruled 2-1 in favour of the expressway, but Kennedy's dissenting
opinion was so powerful the Stop Spadina group appealed to cabinet,
where Bill Davis killed both Spadina and the expressway grid.
The board went on to
save a block of fine old houses on Sherbourne St. north of Dundas,
and this decision helped the city persuade another developer to redesign
the condominium block across from the Art Gallery of Ontario.
``In those days, you
went to the OMB with hope,'' Toronto councillor Anne Johnston remembers.
In one instance, storekeepers
on Eglinton Ave., fearing a new supermarket favoured by the old city
of York council would draw business away, hired a young lawyer, Steve
Diamond, to appeal to the OMB.
Diamond won.
Now Walters and the
Citizens Alliance of Uxbridge want the board to save them from Steve
Diamond. His client, Joey Tanenbaum, wants to build 2,500 houses on the
moraine.
There was a time when
Queen's Park was the final authority over municipal councils that
changed official plans for a big project. Provincial ministries looked
at the impact the projects might have and, if they were worried,
they could order changes - or even kill the project.
Not now.
Bob Rae's New Democrats
began giving municipalities more power, and the Harris Tories went
even further. They allowed municipalities to change land use plans
without any approval from Queen's Park.
Now the government
of Ontario merely comments when a municipality changes plans. If
the government doesn't like the plan, it can - just like a citizen - take
its complaint to the Ontario Municipal Board.
Still, many who deal
with the board suspect its members are open to undue influence from
Queen's Park. It's a pro-business government, they say, and the green
no-build corridor on the province's moraine map is just window dressing.
The board will still rule in favour of developers, their argument
goes, because that's what provincial politicians want.
It used to be that
when board members were appointed by Queen's Park, they had the job
for life - like judges. That made them as independent as judges are
supposed to be.
Board members often
have heavier responsibilities than provincial judges - their decisions
can affect projects worth hundreds of millions of dollars and touch
thousands of lives.
Provincial court judges
are paid $161,440 a year. OMB members average $85,000 and haven't
had a raise in 10 years.
It was Ian Scott, attorney-general
in David Peterson's Liberal government, who decided board members
should serve for three years and then be considered for reappointment.
``Scott felt the board
was being seen as a home for retired lawyers and he wanted to make
it more accountable,'' says Doug Colbourne, the current chair of the board.
In Richmond Hill, after
the government presented its map at an OMB preliminary hearing, one
lawyer - who declined to be named - muttered, ``Suppose you're coming
to the end of a three-year term and the government throws something like
that into a hearing. If you ignore it, you've got to worry how they'll
see that in Queen's Park. Will they renew you for another three-year
term?''
Diamond, now a prominent
land use lawyer, says ``The board should be given longer terms so
there will be no possible public perception of political interference.''
Every lawyer interviewed
for this article - almost all asked to remain unnamed - repeated
that sentiment.
Lyons said the Canadian
Bar Association's municipal section appealed to both the NDP and
Conservative governments that followed Peterson to at least lengthen the
three-year term. They got nowhere.
Another difficulty
is the way the board's responsibilities are defined.
The New Democrats required
OMB decisions to ``be consistent'' with provincial policies, and
began to spell these policies out in regulations as thick as a telephone
book.
The Harris government
changed all that, requiring the board to ``have regard for'' provincial
policies. And it reduced provincial policies to just nine pages.
Present rules leave
plenty of room for interpretation.
Present policy, for
example, requires that ``prime agricultural areas will be protected.''
But present policy also states that municipalities should have enough
land designated for future housing to keep developers busy for 10 years.
When it comes to aquifers
like the Oak Ridges Moraine, the policies say only they ``will be
protected.''
So how does the board
decide what is most important?
What comes first? Housing?
Farms? Protecting the moraine?
``We listen to evidence
that's put before us and we try to decide what is in the public interest,''
Colbourne says.
But how does the board
know what's in the public interest?
Sometimes the OMB deliberately
turns intervenors away, no matter how public or interested they are.
The City of Toronto,
which asked to take part in the Richmond Hill hearings because Toronto's
rivers - the Don, the Humber and the Rouge - are all fed by the Oak
Ridges Moraine, was told to stay away.
`The board should be given longer terms so there will be no
... perception of political
interference'
Although the city was
ready to spend over $1 million on expert witnesses, the OMB decided
Toronto wouldn't add anything because much of the case the city planned
to make would be made by public interest groups.
That's when Toronto
turned to the courts.
Last week, the divisional
court turned down Toronto's appeal. The city's lawyers can't even
come to the assistance of other parties because the city's insurance only
covers them to act for the city. So the public interest groups are on their
own.
Many people are convinced
board members take their cues from Queen's Park and favour developers,
including some land use lawyers who asked that their names not be
used.
On the other hand,
Ian Graham, publisher of GTA/905 Development News, a newsletter that
keeps track of OMB decisions, says he finds the board ``pretty even-handed.''
While a Star inquiry
to the board readily produced a sampling of a dozen decisions in
which the board ruled against business interests, there's nothing to say
the OMB must follow previous decisions - including its own.
``We try to follow
precedent, but we are not bound by precedent the way a court is,''
Colbourne says.
So it can looks as
though it is going in one direction one day and in a completely different
direction the next day.
Over the years, commissions
have examined the board's role, but none have recommended doing away
with it. You have to wonder if people complaining about the board
so bitterly now would feel better if they had nowhere to appeal a dubious
municipal action but the courts.
But that's democracy,
which Winston Churchill famously described as ``the worst form of
government, except all those other forms that have been tried from time
to time.''
He might have said
the same of the Ontario Municipal Board.
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