I’ve become known at Legislative Council (LC) for my succinct answers to the ‘Motion Template’ prompts, often to the frustration of other councillors. It’s the line I draw between respecting the norms of the assembly (having a template) and my personal philosophy about empowering rather than restraining a governing body. But I wanted to elaborate somewhere about said personal philosophy. This is my chance!
My thesis is that short-term efforts to mature LC inadvertently create a shadow decision-making process. This opaque shadow process disenfranchises LC, transforming it into a rubber-stamp step for decisions effectively already made behind closed doors. Paradoxically, to make LC trustworthy you first have to trust it. The solution to a growing issue of apathetic councillors, low attendance, and low engagement, is to loosen the rules so that the few that remain are truly respected. The motion template is only one offender of the myriad practices that prevent meaningful debate from happening on the floor, in a venue where students can voice their opinions.
First let’s examine the motion template as it currently stands. It has six questions, and a lower word count expectation of about 500, excluding the motion itself. These questions are good to guide the verbal presentation of a motion, but with a consent agenda, they often stand in entirely for a conversation at LC. The questions are difficult to interpret for newcomers, and present an additional barrier to bringing grassroot issues to a governing body. If I expand my scope from the motion template, the process to get a motion to the floor of LC borders on the Kafkaesque. It must be sent to the Steering Committee at least 2 weeks in advance – that is, the same day as the preceding LC. And before it’s sent to Steering, consultations must be completed with relevant stakeholders, which includes at least one executive, who can be busy and hard to get hold of.
Because these rules are so burdensome, many exceptions are made. And because exceptions are made, the rules become unevenly applied. Longtime members will send motions less than 2 weeks in advance, knowing it’ll still be seen, whereas this provision might deter someone newer from participating at all. Having rules that aren’t followed benefits people who can infer the unspoken rules – the customs that fill the gaps of implementation. A natural solution to this inequity is to follow the rules to the letter, but this is also unreasonable – clubs and services wouldn’t get their fees renewed and time-sensitive motions would skip LC altogether, because it’s more effort than it’s worth. More decisions would happen by executives or in smaller Board sessions.
We see more exceptions happen as motions are increasingly presented from the floor. What was meant to be an extenuating condition for motions now becomes commonplace, because the comparative effort of going through the typical process is significant. This shortcut can cause resentment between those that take advantage and those that don’t. It also highlights the ‘rules’ as optional.
But without the motion template, consultation policy, and advanced timeline, how can we ensure that motions won’t cause unintended adverse effects? This is solidly the responsibility of LC itself. I think we can all agree that LC isn’t doing that job right now. Motions are not properly scrutinized, and errors are rampant. Instead of continuing to load on regulations for the motion writer, we need to acknowledge that the quality of a motion is a collective responsibility. If LC expects to see perfect motions, they will feel like their job is to mindlessly agree. They will ask a token question then approve everything that comes their way, presuming that someone else, behind-the-scenes, is quality vetting. But what if that behind-the-scene actor fails, or is sick one week? How will LC grapple with tough governing questions if a culture of complacency and ritual is established? If LC is entrusted with motions that are imperfect, and they are told that these motions are imperfect, then an opportunity arises for meaningful debate at meetings.
The motion template is, at its root, reactionary. It was billed as a response to mistaken resolutions. Frequently cited examples are the Ethical Partnership Policy which imposes dramatic changes to SSMU full-time staff, and the motion adding gender-affirming care to the student dental plan without proper financial analysis. But these motions were both debated and passed when the motion template was in effect, which suggests that, if the template was designed to filter these sorts of motions, it was not successful. By looking at the template answers, we can see that it’s not for lack of content in the template. But I do think the filled-out motion template distracted from the urgent gaps in the motions themselves.
Without a dramatic reinvention, I suspect that in the future, Legislative Council will become irrelevant as students choose to pursue their initiatives through other platforms. Even this year, we’ve seen fewer statements and positions make their way to Legislative Council.
Finally, the motion template discourages amendment. Whenever someone tries to amend the motion template answers without amending the motion itself, or vice-versa, confusion ensues – confusion that can’t be resolved by Robert’s Rules of Order, because this motion template is not common parliamentary practice and exists outside these procedures. When my September 20th motion was amended, the motion template wasn’t, which makes it seem like the GSAC – a consulted stakeholder – signed off on the newest version of the motion. This is an error in the written history of the motion. I watched someone misread the September 20th motion because the ‘next steps’ and the motion itself were conflicting.
A motion is meant to be dynamic. A mover tries something out and the governing body takes it in their hands, molds it or rejects it as appropriate. They consider it with the collective brainpower of a group. This is what LC should be.