There are two questions that come to mind when throwing your hat in the ring for the position of ward councillor.

If elected, would you actually want to do the job? Second, can you afford to do the job? 

That second question is not something that one should have to ask before taking up public service. Public service should be an equal-opportunity position. 

First, let’s look at what the role entails. Representing constituents at Shire Hall is part of the bedrock of our democracy and so intricately connected with our day-to-day activities it’s so taken for granted as to have become invisible. 

Turn on a a tap. Put your garbage out for collection. Turn onto a roadway that’s just been plowed. Head to an arena or municipal park. File a building permit. Attend a yoga class at a community hall.

If you have an issue with the Ontario Provincial Police, your first stop would be the independent Civilian Oversight Board. It’s just one of nearly two dozen sub-committees and regional boards that have county councillor membership.

At the New Year’s Levee earlier this month, Mayor Steve Ferguson noted that apart from Council and Committee of the Whole meetings every two weeks, and Planning Committee meetings every month, each member of Council serves on legislated committees or those the municipality has created. For example, one or two councillors serve annual appointments on the Built and Cultural Heritage Committee; Traffic Advisory Committee; Visit the County; Library Board; Committee of Adjustment; Picton BIA; and the Water/Wastewater Rates Committee. All Councillors serve on their respective recreation committees.

There are 18 working groups and task teams to advise Council of specific projects or undertakings Council has initiated.

This is all part of the municipal web of governance working for you and me, ready to answer your questions and concerns. It’s the level of government that’s closest to the people it serves — and we might agree it’s the most important.

According to the Association of Municipalities of Ontario (AMO), the province’s 444 Municipal governments are crucial to Ontario’s economy, investing revenues of nearly $65 billion in important public services and infrastructure each year. Municipalities own, operate, and maintain nearly half a trillion dollars of infrastructure essential to Ontario’s economic prosperity and quality of life. That level of infrastructure responsibility is more than that of the provincial and federal governments combined.

All this is just to say that Tuesday night Council meetings are just the tip of the iceberg of the duties each councillor undertakes when they take the municipal oath of office.

For every hot-button planning, operations, and infrastructure issue that may pique your personal interest, a series of micro responsibilities will occupy your every waking moment. All this for the princely sum of $26,000 a year. 

It is difficult to imagine someone in their prime earning years opting for the full-time job of a County Councillor for a fraction of what they might earn elsewhere. The only way somebody in their prime — by that all I mean is not retired — could consider taking it on is by adding the 30 hours and more the job entails every week either to their regular work, or to another part-time job. That pretty much rules out anyone with children. 

No wonder working-age people who might want to spend some time with the kids are not generally to be found sitting around the horseshoe.

So another question might come to mind for that someone considering — or reconsidering — the position. Who exactly wants to take on stressful, high profile, and challenging full-time work for what amounts to less than the minimum wage?

Ask any of the councillors who endured last week’s six-hour planning meeting if this is a part time job. Those six hours were only the top half of a seemingly an endless string of deputations. And don’t forget the related tasks, just to get through a planning meeting responsibly: reading planning reports, studying the studies, trying to understand the site plans, weighing the concerns of the neighbours, the community, the developers, and holding them against provincial priorities. Throw in a few public insults on Facebook. Don’t forget having to listen to every single councillor put in their two — or three, or four, or hey, whose counting, let’s make it five — cents.

One councillor told me he does his grocery shopping either early in the morning or late at night in order to avoid public rancor — “mean people” accosting them over Council’s decisions. Another travels to Belleville for such tasks. Most councillors are off social media altogether for the same reason. 

“Something has gotten lost. We are neighbours. Councillors are just human beings trying to serve their community.”

We agree.

Anyone brave enough to put their name down on the 2026 municipal ballot should be required to watch some key planning meetings — December 11 comes to mind — in their entirety, and then be asked: “Are you absolutely sure you want to do this for the next four years?”

Or to put it another way: “Why are you not considering backing out while you still can?”

When we are talking about Council and who might consider serving their community for the next four years, we should be asking what’s holding people back from filing their papers. I suggest two things. Time, and being paid for that time. 

I hold great reverence for anyone who puts their name on a municipal ballot to serve, especially now. But the time demands coupled with the current pay rate ensures the field is limited to those who can set their own schedules — and who have another income source. That does not represent a full cross section of the community. 

If changing the composition of Council to a more manageable number is in the public interest, we should also examine why some potentially great community leaders are sitting on the sidelines.  Civic service shouldn’t be a financial burden.