Clinic closure is part and parcel of a bigger problem with the Ontario government

Apr 02, 2008

It is an interesting coincidence that the “Sunshine List” came out at the same time after-hours care stopped at the Burk’s Falls and District Health Centre.

It gives us a chance to see how many individuals at the Ministry of Health and Long-Term Care earn more than the $107,000 it would cost to continue providing after-hours care.

For that matter, the recent distribution of hundreds of millions of dollars in infrastructure grants, although still not enough to meet the current need, helps to put this in perspective.

It might be a lot to us, but $107,000 is peanuts to the provincial government.

For all the McGuinty government’s talk about putting money back into things like healthcare and education, they’re looking pretty miserly from Almaguin, and in many ways seem no better than the government they replaced.

But it’s not fair to blame the McGuinty Liberals alone. This is a symptom of a much larger, long-term problem with the Ontario government in general. Look at any major local issue involving a provincial ministry and you will see it. The problem is bureaucrats in Toronto making rules for us, based on what works in a large urban centre.

Think about it. Burk’s Falls lost after-hours care because somebody in government decided it was not worthwhile to provide the service here, that emergency rooms in Huntsville and North Bay are sufficient for such a small population.

Our schools aren’t properly staffed or maintained, and seem to be constantly under the threat of closure. Meanwhile, kids are spending a significant chunk of their day being bused out of their home communities. Why? Because somebody in government decided how many students a school should have, and based the funding entirely on that. That’s all well and good if you have thousands of people packed into a few square blocks, but not so good if they’re in a loose scattering of small communities. Nobody at the Ministry of Education and Training seems to share the widely-held belief that a school is something every town should have. At least nobody with an opinion that matters.

Towns are being bypassed and businesses disrupted by a highway built largely for the convenience of city dwellers. But the Ministry of Transportation won’t budge on its policy banning billboards from major rural highways. Why? Who knows? It all seems to be because of one line in a policy that simply says we can’t have billboards. No explanation. Oddly enough, the rules are different in urban areas.

We can talk to our local ministry reps about these things, but these decisions are handed down from on high, or rather up from Toronto. There are a lot of people in the south, and in government who simply don’t understand the way things work outside of a city. Even in many southern “rural” areas, the urban influence is sufficiently strong that the very definition of a community has changed into something life-long Almaguin residents probably wouldn’t recognize as such. We are running afoul of rules made by and for people living closer together physically but farther apart in many of the ways that count.

What is the answer? There is no easy answer. But a good place to start would be to start looking at these issues as part and parcel of the same problem – a top-down government that is out of touch with rural Ontario. Those interested in healthcare, economic development or schools should view them as a common interest and support one another. From there, the only way to get anything fixed is to speak up – loudly – and speak to the right people. Griping to each other over coffee doesn’t work.

The loss of after-hours care is something that should have had people up in arms, but they were relatively quiet about it, and for that, we must all share some of the responsibility. After-hours care should have gone out with a bang, not a whimper.

In fact, it shouldn’t have been allowed to go out at all.