Four months, 40 municipalities, 12,000 kilometres: what I learned travelling across B.C. for local politics

You know that old advertising campaign where you'd see some spectacular part of British Columbia, different every time, and somebody would turn awkwardly to the camera, and say, matter of factly, "Best place on Earth?"

I had a sudden urge to say that a lot over the last four months.

On top of a mountain in Revelstoke, or on a boat on the waters next to Skidegate. Taking a eight-hour bus ride to B.C.'s northernmost municipality and seeing Canada's largest snowman, or on a 22-hour ferry ride through the serene Inside Passage. 

Last October, B.C. elected 95 new mayors, a record number. Whether due to housing, populism, campaign finance reform, or just coincidence, it created a huge group of new leaders tackling age-old issues in their communities.

So I went out and met them.

On Vancouver Island and in the Kootenays, from cities of 600,000 to villages with less than six hundred, I went to city halls and coffee shops to learn and to listen, often accompanied by a camera operator.  

When you travel this province for 16 weeks, you learn a few things along the way — and not just to always keep a spare phone charger ready at all times.

Super, Natural

For starters, this place is amazing, which, yeah, you already knew. 

But it is amazing in so many different ways. 

The slopes in Whistler and the craggy rocks of Ucluelet. The small town charms of Nelson or Hope and the suburban ease of Oak Bay or West Vancouver. The stunning vastness of the Peace Region and Haida Gwaii, and the energy of our biggest metropolises.

But what makes British Columbia special isn't any one region or municipality, but the constellation of communities that make up this province.

And during this trip I met an eclectic range of mayors: former logging supervisors and political science professors, fast food managers and even funeral directors, most making below the median wage and leading a council where people work second jobs.

On the provincial level, our politics are flattened into a few parties, debating issues on a black-and-white spectrum.  

On the local level, it's an incredibly broad mosaic. 

Unique communities, common conflicts

While our cities and towns are unique, the political dilemmas they face are pretty similar.

People need a place to live, whether it's stable rental buildings or modular homes. They need to get around more easily, whatever form of transportation they take. They need jobs from evolving industries, and generally worry about losing those in traditional sectors. And they need to feel they're making the world a better place for their children.

To say nothing of the waste, water and pothole issues that take up most of the time.  

Voters want those changes, and they want the people they elected to make them quickly. Straightforward, right?

But they also want transparency and consultation. And they want their neighbourhoods to keep the same charms that enticed them there in the first place.

No matter which B.C. communities we went to, that contrast existed. Every place is its own — but the conflicts and solutions to their political issues generally aren't.

Cities are complex, but the tools given to cities a century ago when the division of powers were created are incredibly small.  

The mayors who succeed over the next four years will find a way to walk that tightrope. Maybe you only have to look at West Vancouver's B-Line to see how quickly a mayor can trip up.

How will the rest of them handle that paradox when it comes? Well, voters will ultimately decide that in October 2022.

I'll be back on the road sooner rather than later though.

Hopefully next time, I'll enjoy this province when it's a little bit warmer out.