Fraser Institute
Courts and governments caused B.C.’s property crisis—they’re not about to fix it
From the Fraser Institute
By Bruce Pardy
In British Columbia, property rights are in turmoil. The B.C. Supreme Court recently declared that Aboriginal title exists on 800 acres of land in Richmond, a suburb of Vancouver. Aboriginal title, said the court, is “senior and prior” to fee simple interests. In the shadow of the decision, given the implications, Aboriginal title claims are receiving more attention. Kamloops and Sun Peaks ski resort are targets in one such claim. Meanwhile, the B.C. government has been conferring Aboriginal title across the province too. It continues to make agreements, such as on Haida Gwaii, to transfer control over land use in the province.
Courts and governments have caused this problem. The framers of Canada’s new constitution, adopted in 1982, excluded rights to private property. But at the last hour, they guaranteed existing Aboriginal rights and title. Over decades, the Supreme Court of Canada has expanded the scope of those rights. The recent decision about Richmond is a culmination of its work. That decision is under appeal, first to the B.C. Court of Appeal. After that, we may find out if the Supreme Court approves. But that could take years.
It’s not just the courts. In 2015, the Trudeau government agreed to implement the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP). UNDRIP says that Aboriginal groups have the right to own, use, develop and control any lands that they traditionally occupied or used. In 2019, the B.C. legislature incorporated UNDRIP into BC law. Known as DRIPA, the statute requires B.C. law to be consistent with UNDRIP. The NDP government has been granting Aboriginal title and control across the province accordingly.
What can be done? The Canadian constitution has an onerous amending formula. Repealing the section on Aboriginal rights would be next to impossible. So would adding private property guarantees to the Charter. But last week, Dwight Newman, professor of law at the University of Saskatchewan, suggested an alternative in the Post. Rather than attempt wholesale change, he proposed an amendment specific to B.C.
Section 43 is one of the ways to amend the Canadian constitution. It allows changes “in relation to any provision that applies to one or more, but not all, provinces.” The requirements are simple. The legislature in one province and the federal Parliament must both pass a resolution declaring the amendment. That’s it. Such a resolution, Newman suggests, could guarantee that private property in B.C. has priority over Aboriginal title.
He might be right. Section 43 has been used, for example, to alter constitutional denominational school rights in Quebec and Newfoundland. In 1993, New Brunswick used Section 43 to add a provision to the Charter about linguistic rights in the province.
But Section 43 might be narrower than hoped. The New Brunswick amendment was not challenged in court at the time of its enactment. So, yes, Section 43 was used to change the Charter, but not with judicial benediction. Moreover, the Supreme Court has not considered the ways in which Section 43 can be used. Section 43 amendments so far have been minor, mere “tweaks” to the constitutional order. We do not know what meaning the Court might give to “any provision that applies to one province.” It could mean any new provision, but more likely it means any existing provision that applies only to the province. Which would rule out using Section 43 to protect property rights from Aboriginal title in B.C. If the Court allowed Section 43 to be used for that purpose, then Section 43 could theoretically be used for anything, including amending the Charter wholesale until each province had its own version.
Even if Section 43 could be used to fix the property mess, it requires both the province and Ottawa to act. In addition, B.C. legislation requires that such changes be first approved by referendum. The B.C. and federal governments have helped to cause the crisis and continue to do so. They seem intent on undermining the system of land tenure in their own society. They are not likely to disrupt the constitution to frustrate their own work.
Moreover, there are other, simpler places to begin. The federal government could reverse its support for UNDRIP. The B.C. legislature could repeal DRIPA. Neither sitting government will do that. Few political actors will step out of line on Aboriginal questions, even to defend the country’s land, economy, and people. Will we discover whether there is anything more Canadian, after all, than acquiescence? In Canada, truth and reconciliation has morphed into fiction and capitulation.
Canada’s property crisis runs deep, and not just in B.C. Aboriginal rights are widely regarded as the natural and proper order of things. Special status for Aboriginal people is deeply ingrained in Canadian culture as well as the constitution. But it is dead wrong. Legal rights should not depend on lineage or group affiliation. Everyone born in Canada is native to the place. In a free country, laws apply not to distinctive peoples, but to individual people and their private property.
Business
Carney government should privatize airports—then open airline industry to competition
From the Fraser Institute
By Alex Whalen and Jake Fuss
This holiday season, many Canadians will fly to spend time to with family and friends. But air travellers in Canada consistently report frustration with service, cost and choice. In its recent budget, the Carney government announced it will consider “options for the privatization of airports.” What does this mean for Canadians?
Up until the 1990s, the federal government served as both the owner and operator of Canada’s major airports. The Chrétien government partially privatized and transferred the operation of major airports to not-for-profit airport authorities, while the federal government remained the owner of the land. Since then, the federal government has effectively been the landlord for Canada’s airports, collecting rent each year from the not-for-profit operating authorities.
What would full privatization of airports look like?
If the government allows private for-profit businesses to own Canada’s major airports, their incentives would be to operate as efficiently as possible, serve customers and generate profits. Currently, there’s little incentive to compete as the operating authorities are largely unaccountable because they only report to government officials in a limited form, rather than reporting directly to shareholders as they would under privatization. Private for-profit airports exist in many other countries, and research has shown they are often less costly for passengers and more innovative.
Yet, privatization of airports should be only the first step in a broader package of reforms to improve air travel in Canada. The federal government should also open up competition by creating the conditions for new airports, new airlines and new investment. Currently, Canada restricts foreign ownership of Canadian airlines, while also restricting foreign airlines from flying within Canada. Consequently, Canadians are left with little choice when booking air travel. Opening up the industry by reversing these policies would force incumbent airlines to compete with a greater number of airlines, generating greater choice and likely lower costs for consumers.
Moreover, the federal government should reduce the taxes and fees on air travel that contribute to the cost of airline tickets. Indeed, according to our recent research, among peer countries, Canada has among the most expensive air travel taxes and fees. These costs get passed on to consumers, so it’s no surprise that Canada consistently ranks as a very expensive country for air travel.
If the Carney government actually privatizes Canada’s airports, this would be a good first step to introducing greater competition in an industry where it’s badly needed. But to truly deliver for Canadians, the government must go much further and overhaul the numerous policies, taxes and fees that limit competition and drive up costs.
Business
Ottawa’s gun ‘buyback’ program will cost billions—and for no good reason
From the Fraser Institute
By Gary Mauser
The government told Cape Bretoners they had two weeks to surrender their firearms to qualify for reimbursement or “buyback.” The pilot project netted a grand total of 22 firearms.
Five years after then-prime minister Justin Trudeau banned more than 100,000 types of so-called “assault-style firearms,” the federal government recently made the first attempt to force Canadians to surrender these firearms.
It didn’t go well.
The police chief in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, volunteered to run a pilot “buyback” project, which began last month. The government told Cape Bretoners they had two weeks to surrender their firearms to qualify for reimbursement or “buyback.” The pilot project netted a grand total of 22 firearms.
This failure should surprise no one. Back in 2018, a survey of “stakeholders” warned the government that firearms owners wouldn’t support such a gun ban. According to Prime Minister Carney’s own Privy Council Office the “program faces a risk of non-compliance.” And federal Public Safety Minister Gary Anandasangaree was recently recorded admitting that the “buyback” is a partisan maneuver, and if it were up to him, he’d scrap it. What’s surprising is Ottawa’s persistence, particularly given the change in the government and the opportunity to discard ineffective policies.
So what’s really going on here?
One thing is for certain—this program is not, and never has been, about public safety. According to a report from the federal Department of Justice, almost all guns used in crimes in Canada, including in big cities such as Toronto, are possessed illegally by criminals, with many smuggled in from the United States. And according to Ontario’s solicitor general, more than 90 per cent of guns used in crimes in the province are illegally imported from the U.S. Obviously, the “buyback” program will have no effect on these guns possessed illegally by criminals.
Moreover, Canadian firearms owners are exceptionally law-abiding and less likely to commit murder than other Canadians. That also should not be surprising. To own a firearm in Canada, you must obtain a Possession and Acquisition Licence (PAL) from the RCMP after initial vetting and daily monitoring for possible criminal activity. Between 2000 and 2020, an average of 12 PAL-holders per year were accused of homicide, out of approximately two million PAL-holders. During that same 10-year period, the PAL-holder firearms homicide rate was 0.63 (per 100,000 PAL-holders) compared to 0.72 (per 100,000 adult Canadians)—that’s 14 per cent higher than the rate for PAL-holders.
In other words, neither the so-called “assault-style firearms” nor their owners pose a threat to the public.
And the government’s own actions belie its claims. If these firearms are such a threat to Canadians, why slow-roll the “buyback” program? If inaction increased the likelihood of criminality by law-abiding firearms owners, why wait five years before launching a pilot program in a small community such as Cape Breton? And why continue to extend the amnesty period for another year, which the government did last month at the same time its pilot project netted a mere 22 firearms?
To ask those questions is to answer them.
Another question—how much will the “buyback” program cost taxpayers?
The government continues to block any attempt to disclose the full financial costs (although the Canadian Taxpayers Federation has launched a lawsuit to try to force the government to honour its Access to Information Act request). But back in 2020 the Trudeau government said it would cost $200 million to compensate firearms owners (although the Parliamentary Budget Officer said compensation costs could reach $756 million). By 2024, the program had spent $67.2 million—remember, that’s before it collected a single gun. The government recently said the program’s administrative costs (safe storage, destruction of hundreds of thousands of firearms, etc.) would reach an estimated $1.8 billion. And according to Carney’s first budget released in November, his government will spend $364 million on the program this fiscal year—at a time of massive federal deficits and debt.
This is reminiscent of the Chretien government’s gun registry fiasco, which wound up costing more than $2 billion even after then-justice minister Allan Rock promised the registry program would “almost break even” after an $85 million initial cost. The Harper government finally scrapped the registry in 2012.
As the Carney government clings to the policies of its predecessor, Canadians should understand the true nature of Ottawa’s gun “buyback” program and its costs.
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