Sydney City Hall?
I will be the first to admit the name “Cape Breton Regional Municipality” does not roll mellifluously off the tongue, nor is “CBRM” any prettier. I think it would be good to have an actual name for our municipality and I would like to be able to simply call it a “city” rather than a “regional municipality” just because “regional municipality” takes so much longer to type.
But as much as I’d like our regional municipality to have a nicer name, it had never occurred to me that I could simply give it one — which just goes to show that I lack the vision of Mayor Cecil Clarke, who has done just that.
He’s been using the term “city” to describe us for years now, even going so far as to paint “City Hall” over the doors of the Civic Centre (which is still clearly identified as a “Civic Centre” on the standalone signage), although he pinned that one on our former CAO Michael Merritt.
Now it seems he’s taken things a step further and started referring to the building as “Sydney City Hall.” May I draw your attention to Exhibit A:
I guess this could be the work of Ekistics Plan+Design, but I have to think that anything involving the Marconi move would have to be okayed by a mayor hoping to take credit for it. And even someone like me, born and bred in Sydney, can see this is not fair to the people in the other former municipal units that make up our so-called “community of communities.” Why not call it “Louisbourg City Hall” or “Donkin City Hall” or “Glace Waterford City Hall?”
I am also concerned at the precedent it sets — the mayor of the municipality may call it whatever s/he wants? What if a future mayor decides that we should be a canton? Or a protectorate? Or a Duchy? Where will this madness end?
Form & Function
I had reason this week to watch a town council meeting in Bar Harbor, Maine, and it made me realize something about our own council meetings that should have struck me before but hadn’t.
Bar Harbor is a small place, with a population of 5,200, and its council has just seven members, including the chair and vice-chair.
During meetings, councilors sit facing the public, in chairs that are not on any sort of raised platform but at the same level as those of the attendees.
Contrast that with the design of our council chambers, in which councilors sit with their backs to the public, facing a pyramid of senior CBRM staff at the very apex of which sits the mayor.
As symbolism goes, it’s not subtle, and in fact, The Cape Breton Highlander poked some fun at the grandiosity of the building’s design when it was first proposed by then-Sydney Mayor Earle Tubrett back in 1973:
But back to Bar Harbor. The other thing that struck me about the meeting I watched was the public participation. As each item on the agenda was discussed, members of the public were free to approach a microphone at the center of the room and ask questions directly of their councilors or simply offer their opinions on the issues.
I got distracted for quite a few minutes imagining what it would be like if that format were employed during CBRM council meetings. Imagine citizens being able to step up to the mic and ask questions of the mayor, the councilors or the city staff directly? (The Bar Harbor town manager also sits with the council and can be questioned.)
I get that such a system might be difficult to scale, but it should be possible to incorporate a little more give and take between the citizens and elected officials than is currently permitted under our rules. What I’ve noticed about public input, when it is allowed during a public hearing or a council meeting, is that it tends to be one way: citizens are allowed to air their views, but they don’t seem to be free to ask questions of their elected representatives or of senior staff. (I stand to be corrected on this — maybe I just haven’t been to the right meetings.)
And think of it this way: changing the format of meetings would be a lot cheaper than remodeling the council chambers, which is what I’d really like to do. If only TLC had a Trading Spaces-type show for municipalities.
Where’s Cecil?
The Spectator‘s sources were right — this was posted on Wednesday, May 16 from Lower Sackville where Clarke was clearly attending the Sackville Cobequid PC Association Dinner & Leadership Debate, although he doesn’t actually say that, leaving readers to assume it was just him and former Premier John Buchanan hanging out in Lower Sackville:
I say “clearly attending” the leaders’ debate because of this:
Thursday, May 17 found “Leadership Candidates Julie, Elizabeth, Cecil & John” at the Colchester North PC Association 2018 AGM and Dinner in North River:
And I wouldn’t expect our mayor home anytime soon — all the leadership candidates have also been invited to the Chester-St. Margaret’s AGM (and a soup/sandwich lunch) at the Hubbards Lions’ Hall, Fox Point on Saturday, May 19. The event will include a Cake & Pie auction with MLA Alfie MacLeod, who can be spotted in the photos from the Colchester do.
On Sunday, May 20, the Hants East PC Association hold its AGM and has invited all the leadership candidates to attend. As of May 13, Julie Chiasson, Tim Houston and Elizabeth Smith-McCrossin had confirmed.
Fun with algorithms
Jesse Brown, host of the Canadaland podcast, which turns a critical eye on the Canadian media, has an interesting episode this week about tech and journalism, or as he explained it:
Joshua Benton is the director of the Nieman Journalism Lab at Harvard. He joins Jesse to discuss new technological frontiers in journalism, from Apple News, to blockchain-based journalism, to the surprising ways artificial intelligence can benefit news coverage.
Benton’s basic premise is that while AI can produce formulaic news stories — like sports scores or quarterly earnings reports — it is nowhere near producing layered, nuanced or narrative-driven news articles.
I had my own encounter with AI this week which would seem to support Benton’s conclusions (I’m sure the director of the Nieman Journalism Lab at Harvard will be pleased to know I’ve got his back.)
My experience was not with news story-producing software, however, but with the “You might also like” (or, as I like to think of it, the “Would you like fries with that?”) algorithm eBay uses to try to up-sell you at the checkout.
It all started when I broke my favorite glass. (Stick with me, I know where I’m going with this).
My favorite glass was a Captain Morgan “Nova Scotia’s Spirit” rum glass my cousin gave me eight years ago. She got it at the liquor store. It was my favorite glass because it had a heavy glass base that made it almost impossible for a clumsy human or an evil black cat to knock over. It was impervious to my terrible habit of putting it on the floor next to my chair then kicking it across the room as I stood up (something I was prone to doing even when the glass contained nothing more potent than sparkling water).
But last week, I found the weak spot in my Captain Morgan glass’s otherwise flawless design: you cannot put it in the sink and then pile two pots and the heavy glass pitcher from your blender on top of it — you will crack the heavy glass across the bottom.
I considered writing to Captain Morgan to see if he might be able to replace it, although I knew I’d have to be cagey about just how it got broken — and just what I drank out of it. (Hint: not rum.) But then I remembered eBay and sure enough, I found a seller in Nova Scotia offering not one, not two but THREE Captain Morgan “Nova Scotia’s Spirit” glasses which I quickly added to my virtual shopping cart, before chortling my way to the virtual checkout.
And here’s where the algorithm comes in: eBay informed me as I was about to complete my purchase that, given I was about to purchase three Captain Morgan “Nova Scotia’s Spirit” glasses, I might also like to purchase a beer bong funnel with a three-foot tube and beer valve.
Now, I feel that drinking rum from a stylish, heavy-bottomed glass — even if that glass is branded — is sort of classy, in a way that chugging beer through a funnel — even one with a three-foot tube — is not. And it really made me wonder about the quality and accuracy of the eBay algorithm, which led me to my conclusion that AI is not quite ready to take over the world, which puts me in agreement with the director of the Nieman Journalism Lab at Harvard.
(See? Told you I knew where I was going.)
Merritt-ing notice
It’s been over a year now since our former CAO Michael Merritt left us to return to Alberta, but I continue to monitor his doings via a Google alert.
Or rather, I attempt to monitor his doings, but he apparently hasn’t done anything newsworthy since he took over as CAO of Olds Alberta about 10 minutes after he ceased his duties as CAO of the CBRM in April 2017.
Instead, I find myself monitoring the doings of the many other Michael Merritts of this world and amusing myself by pretending the stories are actually about our Michael Merritt. Here’s the latest batch:
The 25th Annual Michael Merritt Awards and Endowment Fund honor the memory of a brilliant designer and inspirational teacher. This national award, unique in its emphasis on excellence in both design and collaboration, has been presented annually since 1994 to outstanding professional theatrical designers.
Orchard Park, NY Town Engineer Michael Merritt presented a report to the town board on structural repairs to the earthen dam at Green Lake.
Comanche County Oklahoma emergency management director Michael Merritt spoke to the Lawton Constitution about a fire that destroyed a single-family home.
Michael Merritt donated $2,500 to the annual Aware Affair gala to combat Alzheimer’s disease in Dallas, Texas.
Royal Wedding
Words cannot express how little I care about the royal wedding.
[signoff]
