4. Re-Envisioning Urban Development?

Globalization,

Ecological Modernization and Vision 2020

Endangered Environments and Economies

During the 1980s, while the Red Hill debate continued to intensify, the valley continued

to re-naturalize (Figure 4.1). The area remained a popular site for recreational activities,

including walking, cycling, and fishing, as well as organized sports. A number of

baseball diamonds and small parks had been constructed in the valley, the Rosedale

elementary school and hockey arena were built along its western edge and, against the

advice of the Hamilton Region Conservation Authority, the Hamilton Civic Golf course

had been expanded to occupy a significant portion of the now densely vegetated King’s

Forest. The 1980 Regional Official Plan recognized the valley’s designation as an

“Environmentally Sensitive Area” that should be protected “to the fullest extent

possible” while simultaneously calling for a “new north-south road, crossing the

Niagara Escarpment along the Red Hill Creek Valley.”

Figure 4.1: Red Hill Valley, looking north from the escarpment (Peace, 1998)

139
 At the same time, the valley had now become surrounded by urban development and

much of its watershed was now covered by pavement (Figure 4.2). Despite widespread

public usage of the valley, the creek and surrounding area continued to be polluted by

abandoned refuse and raw sewage, the later flowing directly from combined overflow

pipes installed in the 1950s and 60s. Seven such pipes now emptied into the creek,

redirecting wastewater away from the Woodward Avenue Sewage Treatment Plant

during heavy rainfalls. Storm sewers, built to direct run-off from rainstorms and melting

snow toward local streams, presented further problems. These sewers were forced to

accommodate increasingly large overland flows of water as urban development replaced

natural waterways with pipes and the permeable surfaces of forest and field with the

concrete of housing developments, business parks and strip malls. Massive storm sewer

flows emptying into the Red Hill Creek damaged the creek bed and aquatic life with

their sheer force and their contents, which included pollutants from city streets and

140
sewage from local sanitary lines cross-connected to storm sewers, in many cases

unintentionally. By the late 1990s, ecologist Bruce Duncan (1998: 92) described the

creek as “a typical urban stream in a developed area with “flashy” (as in “flash flood”)

flows. We also see far more frequent high flows and resulting severe erosion. These

flows cut into the exposed banks, wash away fish eggs, gouge out the bottom of the

stream along with its invertebrate life, and carry debris as large as boulders and full-

grown trees as small as suspended clay and silt.”

Figure 4.2: Red Hill Valley and surrounding area, 1990s (Friends of Red

Hill Valley, 2004)

141
 In 1980, the closure and “capping” of the Upper Ottawa landfill site, which

bordered the creek for almost 700 metres, was applauded by many but public

concern continued to grow about the contamination of the creek by leachate from

this site and the older municipal waste sites further downstream. By the end of the

decade, a Combined Sewer Overflow tank had been installed, but overflow

problems continued. During the following decade, citizens complained of foul

odours in this area and environmentalists reported high levels of e-coli bacteria

downstream (Friends of Red Hill Valley newsletter, November 1999).

While these threats to the ecological integrity and health of the creek and the valley,

as well as to the Hamilton Harbour, were a concern for many local citizens, such issues

did not figure as prominently in public discourse about the future of the region as did

the concerns expressed about its economic future. In the shadow cast by slow economic

and population growth during the preceding decade, predictions of a gradual but steady

decline in local manufacturing and employment appeared as a dire threat to many at the

beginning of the 1980s. Business owners and advocates feared a loss in profitability,

while unions feared job losses and thus largely continued to practice the politics of

compromise that emerged in the post-war era, relying upon negotiation, collective

bargaining and party politics rather than public protest and direct action. Politicians and

planners feared a long-term decline in the local tax base, coupled with rising social

service costs and meagre assistance from higher levels of government (Webber and

Fincher 1987). The political and economic pressure to compete against other

communities for private investment would only increase as the globalization of trade,

142
finance and commodity production began to accelerate. A new “urban

entrepreneurialism” was beginning to emerge, alongside and often in apparent conflict

with growing awareness of the social and ecological costs of economic growth (Smith

2002).

This chapter examines these changing political economic and socio-ecological

relationships during the 1980s and 1990s, and accompanying transformations in the

place-based narratives used to create, sustain and understand those relationships, as they

were enacted through the Red Hill Creek Expressway conflict. During this period,

significant shifts occurred in the political narratives articulated by the most prominent

groups involved in the debate. The discourse of sustainable development provided a

means of “greening” the dominant growth and progress narrative by presenting

“economic sustainability” as forms of urban development that simply endeavoured to

reduce negative social and ecological impacts, rather than entailing a qualitative shift in

development processes. Simultaneously, deindustrialization, economic globalization,

and the subsequent rise of urban neoliberalization provided further justification for the

rhetoric of inter-urban competition for investment and the privileging of established

strategies of economic development over other approaches and other municipal

priorities. Yet, sustainability discourse also introduced an emphasis on collaborative

governance that would prove challenging for expressway advocates and it provided new

opportunities for presenting more substantive notions of urban sustainability and more

radical, if vaguely defined, visions of a “green economy”. Through debate over the

Vision 2020 sustainability plan, discussed below, the relationship between nature,

143
development and democracy became central to the larger debate over the future of the

Red Hill Valley and the city itself.

Politics, Ecology, Economics: The 1985 Joint-Board Hearing

By the end of 1979, the Red Hill Valley Expressway had been granted approval from

both the City and the Region but still faced a number of hurdles. Citizens, city

councillors, and provincial members of parliament from the Liberal and NDP parties

had immediately begun pressuring the provincial Conservatives to hold an

environmental impact assessment hearing but these demands were rejected on the basis

that the Ontario Environmental Assessment Act, adopted in 1975, did not yet apply to

municipal projects (Hamilton Spectator, October 31, 1979). Despite the lack of a legal

requirement to do so, the Region began preparing an application to the province with

the stated desire to “maintain credibility with the public and ensure that promises that

the environment will not be harmed will be met” (Hamilton Spectator, September 16,

1979). Hamilton Mayor Jack MacDonald and members of the expressway steering

committee, while publicly stating that "assessment of the environment is one of the

strongest arguments for the decision taken by the city and regional council" (Hamilton

Spectator, September 25, 1979), argued that the project should be subjected to an

Ontario Municipal Board (OMB)1 hearing rather than a full environmental assessment.

1
The Ontario Municipal Board (OMB) is an independent tribunal, created in 1897, that
adjudicates applications and appeals for municipal planning issues such as official plans, zoning
bylaws, subdivision plans and land use proposals governed by provincial legislation. Members
are appointed by the Provincial Cabinet. The OMB has been widely criticized for allegedly
favouring property developers in their deicisons. Indeed, approximately 75% of the decisions
made by the OMB to date have favoured the development interests involved. The OMB has also

144
The province had been considering the possibility of creating “consolidated hearings”

for projects requiring assessment under two or more planning acts and soon announced

that the expressway project would be assessed by a “joint board” consisting of two

members of the OMB and one representative from the Environmental Assessment

Board (Hamilton Spectator, March 25, 1980). Approval was also required from the

Niagara Escarpment Commission and the Hamilton and Region Conservation Authority,

both of which had indicated concerns about the valley route, but these groups were

excluded from the joint-board process.

While the Region prepared its application, opponents of the project continued to

mobilize. Local environmentalist group Save the Valley, whose official membership had

grown to approximately 400 people by the early 1980s, remained the most prominent

voice of opposition. In addition to their lobbying and public relations efforts, the group

continued to organize public walks and events such as a festival in the valley (Hamilton

Spectator, August 24, 1980) and later introduced a “tree adoption” program (ibid,

February 1, 1984). Save the Valley also began to direct criticism at the Region’s

population forecasts and insistence on the need for the expressway despite the scaling-

back of predictions of the 2001 population from 550,000 to 445,500 people (just 7%

above 1981 levels) (ibid, February 10, 1982). John Ellis, chairman of Save the Valley,

cast doubt upon the claim that the highway was needed to stimulate new industrial

development, referring to the gradual decline of manufacturing in his argument that the

city should work to encourage “high tech industry” and more “upwardly mobile”

been criticized for allegedly “interfering” with municipal decision-making processes.

145
employees attracted to “the recreational opportunities offered by the Red Hill Creek

Valley” (ibid, February 10, 1982). This argument invoked the need for innovation and

the re-envisioning of Hamilton’s economy and public image beyond the “Steel City,”

but also ran the risk of offending local pride in the city’s industrial image and working

class roots – sentiments to which highway proponents routinely appealed in their

argument that the project would support new and existing industrial development.

At the same time, traffic congestion and frequent accidents on local roadways

continued to arouse public concern and frequent media attention. These concerns were

met by renewed calls for completion of a perimeter road, including another east-west

highway running parallel to the waterfront (Hamilton Spectator, October 5, 1982).2 The

diminishing prospects for manufacturing growth made it increasingly difficult for

proponents to present this project, and particularly the more controversial Red Hill

section, as a vital link between suburban housing and the industrial waterfront.

Accordingly, the project’s potential to foster new development on the escarpment was

gradually emphasized. Political pressure from land speculators, construction and real

2
Debate also surrounded an elevated rapid transit line, linking the downtown and the
escarpment in the city’s west end – a proposal that faced a great deal of local opposition and that
was ultimately rejected by Regional council. The provincial Conservatives proposed this
project, the first of its kind in Ontario, but the idea was soon abandoned due to public
opposition and a lack of political support. Curiously, the transit line was supported by some of
the politicians and advocacy groups that favoured the Red Hill project, while some of those
opposed to the highway spoke out against it. Some critics strongly advocated the need for
substantial investments in public transit but argued that this particular project provided too little
service to justify the financial cost and substantial disruption to local neighbourhoods
(Hamilton Spectator, December 16, 1981). Perhaps because they shared these concerns and
perhaps due to their preoccupation with protection of the Red Hill Valley, anti-expressway
forces did not appear to invest much time in supporting this project, despite its practical and
symbolic value in encouraging alternatives to road-building.

146
estate interests to move ahead with development projects on the southern edges of the

city was steadily increasing.

These efforts were bolstered by consultation reports that presented completion of the

North-South (Red Hill) and East-West (Mountain) roadways as “a strategic link in

transforming the Regional economy” (Currie, Coopers and Lybrand Ltd. 1984: iv). This

report predicted that the roadways would “link the Region’s industrial / business /

commercial areas into a viable, efficient network, provide for efficient movement of

trucks, enhance regional labour market accessibility and serve new residential

developments on the Mountain” (ibid: iii). The Hamilton Spectator editorial board was

quick to support this southward expansion of the city and the promise of new

development and employment. Referring to the provincial environmental assessment as

“political and bureaucratic rituals”, they urged the Region to set aside capital budget

funding for the project so that construction could begin as soon as approval was given

(April 25, 1983). This advice was soon followed, amidst worries over the amount of

funding that the Province would ultimately be able to provide.

In preparation for the provincial joint-board hearing, anti-expressway groups sought

the counsel of lawyer Herman Turkstra. Pointing to the estimated $250,000 that the

Region was preparing to spend on lawyers and consultants to defend their position,

Turkstra asked the Board to provide funding to assist his clients, which included Save

the Valley, the Hamilton Region Conservation Authority, the Conserver Society of

Hamilton (a non-profit organization that evolved out of Clear Hamilton of Pollution),

and the Limeridge Road Property Owners – a group opposing the east-west portion of

147
the road. The Board agreed to provide some funding for Save the Valley and the

Limeridge Road group.3 This decision was described by the Hamilton Spectator as “the

best the board could do in an adversarial system that pits the community in general (the

regional government) against part of the community (the freeway opponents).” The

editors called for “a new and better approach” that would rely on “impartial experts” to

balance the interests of all citizens, presenting a pluralistic view that reduced the

conflict to one between “freeway opponents” and the government, here equated with the

“community in general”(Hamilton Spectator, October 18, 1984).

The hearing began in late October 1984 and ran for nine months, involving numerous

witnesses and costing over $2 million. In defence of the project, the Region claimed that

the North-South and East-West roadways would meet future traffic demand, alleviate

traffic congestion and stimulate economic development. On this first point regarding

traffic demand, Regional planners submitted their models and predictions of population,

employment and traffic volume levels, arguing that the roadways were essential for

supporting anticipated growth on the mountain and an increase in traffic moving across

the escarpment. Despite the reduction of population growth estimates in 1981 to an

estimated 7% increase by 2001, these forecasts predicted a 39% increase in population

3
Pro-expressway neighbourhood groups such as the Centennial Parkway Ratepayers were
unable to afford legal representation, a situation that one member described as “a real David and
Goliath situation” (anonymous, April 10, 2006). The Region objected to the awarding of costs to
citizen groups in advance of the hearing. The debate over funding for citizen groups
participating in such hearings eventually resulted in an Ontario Supreme Court case. This suit
was launched by utility companies such as Ontario Hydro and Union Gas who feared that
precedence would be set for the provision of funding to critics of large-scale infrastructure
projects prior to the beginning of an environmental hearing. In July 1985, the Court sided with
the corporations and ruled against providing advance funding in such cases (Hamilton
Spectator, July 1, 1985).

148
and a 40% increase in the number of jobs located on the mountain (Region of Hamilton-

Wentworth 1982). These predictions were challenged by “counter-experts” who noted

that the modeling exercises assumed a steady increase in population, employment and

traffic but only a very modest increase in public transit (Hamilton Spectator, March 26,

1985). Lawyer Herman Turkstra, representing expressway opponents, argued that the

Region’s growth predictions assumed rather than demonstrated the need for extensive

development on the escarpment (Hamilton Spectator, December 4, 1984), and noted

that all previous growth forecasts had proven to be over-inflated (Hamilton Spectator,

December 18, 1984).

Experts testifying on behalf of the Region also argued that the North-South

expressway would reduce traffic congestion, particularly the growing levels of truck

traffic in the east-end of the city, but Turkstra countered that no studies of truck traffic

patterns had been presented to support this prediction. Under cross examination,

Hamilton traffic commissioner Murray Main “conceded the proposed freeway would

likely have little impact on east-west truck traffic in the lower city” because most

industrial and commercial traffic originated from the waterfront or areas north and west

of the city. Main agreed with Turkstra’s assertion that little truck traffic entered

Hamilton from the south but noted “the proposed freeway would accommodate and spur

residential and industrial growth on the Mountain through improved access to major

highways” (Hamilton Spectator, November 28, 1984).

A good portion of the debate during the hearings centered upon the claim that the

highway project would ensure future economic growth. This position was advanced by

149
planners, consultants and various business groups, including the Hamilton Construction

Association, Hamilton Automobile Club, and the Hamilton and District Home Builder’s

Association. Regional planning director, John Gartner, noted that Hamilton’s economic

and population growth rate was among the very lowest in Ontario during the previous

decade and, citing previous efforts such as the railroads and the Burlington Canal, he

argued that transportation improvements were the best means of stimulating new growth

(Hamilton Spectator, October 24, 1984). Existing and proposed industrial parks on the

escarpment were identified as the crucial areas for new development, namely the lands

surrounding the Hamilton International Airport, the Ancaster and Allarco industrial

parks further west, and the East Mountain and North Glanbrook industrial parks south

of the Red Hill Valley (Figure 4.3). These later sites received particular attention.

Proponents predicted that the highways would attract new industries to the hundreds of

acres of land available at these sites, arguing that lack of highway access had prevented

investment to date.

Figure 4.3: Existing and proposed industrial parks (Webber and Fincher 1987)

150
 In the effort to convince the panel and the public that the expressway was essential to

future economic growth, various calculations and predictions of the jobs provided by

the project were presented, ranging from the Region’s estimate of 12,000 to the

Hamilton Construction Association’s estimate of over twice that number (Hamilton

Spectator, February 19, 1985). These figures were challenged by economist and former

City of Hamilton planner Lukin Robinson, who estimated that roughly one third of the

number of jobs predicted by the Region would be created.4 Robinson also argued that

the proponents were presenting an exaggerated “gloomy” picture of Hamilton’s

economic status in order to make their case and pointed to the steady increases in

4
A subsequent assessment by Michael Webber and Ruth Fincher estimated that completion of
the expressway would contribute to roughly ten additional jobs per year. They concluded, “no
reasonable multiplier would give rise to the estimate of Currie, Coopers and Lybrand” (1987:
251).

151
employment that had occurred during the preceding decade, despite the low growth rate

(ibid, April 4, 1985). Finally, he cited evidence of increasing economic activity within

service industries such as finance and communications and argued that Hamilton should

be pursuing employment in these sectors rather than competing for dwindling industrial

investment (ibid, April 6, 1985). Herman Turkstra also noted that roughly 2,470 acres of

serviced land was already available at various industrial parks in the immediate region

(ibid, February 26, 1985).

In response to the frequent claim that the highway was necessary to support new and

existing industrial parks, critics questioned the wisdom of planning and building

development projects such as the industrial parks before the approval of the required

transportation links. It was suggested that a circular logic appeared to be at work. On the

one hand, proponents argued that the highway was needed to respond to projected

increases in population, employment and automobile traffic. Yet, at the same time, many

also claimed that it was essential for encouraging commercial, industrial and/or

residential growth.5 Of course, this contradiction can be partially explained by the

different interests involved in promoting the project. From the perspective of many

politicians, planners, and traffic engineers, the expressway was the most politically

expedient and well-established means of accommodating future automobile traffic.

From the perspective of the various real-estate, housing, transportation and land

5
Many advocates presented the highway as both a vital driver of economic development and a
necessary response to projected population growth and traffic demands, while also defending
against environmental critiques by suggesting that the project would redistribute rather than
increase population, traffic and air pollution levels. Unfortunately, this is contradicted by a great
deal of research on the relationship between highways and urban form, including many studies
available during the 1980s. See, for example,

152
development companies lobbying for the completion of the road, the project was a

means of raising land prices and opening up new development opportunities on the

escarpment.

For these later groups and businesses, the highway was not simply a response to

growth, but a means of making it happen in a particular area and with particular primary

beneficiaries. This is a good example of what Logan and Molotch refer to as “structural

speculation” – the attempt “to create differential rents by influencing the larger arena of

decision making that will determine locational advantages” (1987: 30). While some

entrepreneurs simply worked to estimate future growth patterns and place themselves in

the path of development opportunities, many business associations played a more active

role in pushing for the most advantageous highway route and forming loose networks

around a shared narrative of “growth and progress”. These networks concentrated on

development at the southern limits of the city, but other real-estate and housing interests

remained focused on the lower city and eastern suburbs. A representative of one of these

businesses, Finochio and Finochio Ltd., told the hearing that downtown housing sales

were doing very well during this period and claimed that the municipality had been

redirecting investors away from lands to the northeast in order to encourage

development on the escarpment (Hamilton Spectator, May 15, 1985).

As discussed in the previous chapter, the established Fordist narrative of urban

growth and progress could no longer appeal to the benefits of economic expansion

without addressing the growing awareness of its negative impacts. Within the confines

of the joint-board hearing, this was limited to efforts to demonstrate that the highway

153
route would not destroy the valley. On this point, the testimony of Dr. Derek Coleman,

an environmental planner whose firm had been employed by the Region, was

particularly significant. Dr. Coleman testified that the highway would have a “moderate

impact on the natural environment and the area’s scenic and recreational resources” if

measures were taken to mitigate the damages (Hamilton Spectator, January 16, 1985).6

Those measures would be part of a proposed Recreation Master Plan, along with efforts

to clean up polluted sections of the valley and provide for more recreational pursuits

and amenities. This became a central argument for the Region and other proponents of

the project. The valley was continually described as “polluted” and its “restoration” was

linked to the construction of the highway. The presence of infrastructure such as gas

lines, power lines, storm sewers, municipal dumps and other roadways in the valley was

presented as evidence of its degraded state (Hamilton Spectator, June 13, 1985), in

order to demonstrate that this was not the kind of “pristine” space typically associated

with environmental conservation and to present the local government as most capable of

healing the area while obscuring their responsibility for creating that pollution.

Further support for the Region’s position was provided by Dr. Sydney Barton of the

Ontario Research Foundation, who presented the results of his study of the highway’s

Lawyer Herman Turkstra suggested that Dr. Coleman was suffering from a so-called “kidnap
syndrome,” having gradually adapted his own views to better fit those of the Regional planners
he was working with. To back up this claim, Turkstra quoted from a 1979 report which
described the virtual elimination of the marshlands at the north end of the valley by the
expressway as a “major, irreversible impact” and then noted that Coleman’s more recent
assessment described the same impact as “moderate”. Coleman maintained that he had changed
his position after realizing that “the impact could be mitigated” (Hamilton Spectator, January
16, 1985).

154
impacts on air quality. Barton had used estimates of the volume and type of traffic on

the proposed roads to calculate the expected levels of carbon monoxide, nitrogen oxides

and suspended particulate (road dust from exhaust and vehicle wear) within 100 metres

of the road. While total suspended particulate levels during “heavy traffic volume”

exceeded the provincial half-hour standard, Barton found all other measures below

those standards and declared “there would be no significant adverse affect on air

quality.” Barton went further by claiming that the highway would actually reduce the

total amount of air pollution by allowing for more efficient driving and thereby reducing

overall emissions. Herman Turkstra countered by noting that Barton’s study did not

actually measure existing traffic patterns or the levels and distribution of air pollutants

in the east end of the city (Hamilton Spectator, February 5, 1985).

The Region was also forced to defend against charges that their decision-making

process had been exclusive and undemocratic. Before the hearing began, the Social

Planning and Research Council (SPRC), a non-profit social advocacy group specializing

in local issues related to poverty and housing, had issued a report that summarized many

of these criticisms. The SPRC observed that, in spite of the Region’s stated aim of

encouraging public involvement “throughout all phases of the program”, public input

was invited only after an original list of fifteen possible routes had been reduced to six,

all of which included the Red Hill Valley. The report also stated that it was also unclear

how (or if) the Region integrated public input into the decision-making process,

particularly in light of the fact that the route selected was ranked fifth out of the six

proposed routes in public questionnaire responses (Hamilton Spectator, September 24,

155
1984). The SPRC raised concern that evaluation criteria, including population growth

projections, appeared to have been “changed, deleted and reintroduced during different

stages of the evaluation.” Lawyers for the Region responded only by noting that the

revision of population predictions had prompted a reconsideration of other alternatives

but that planners were confident that the road was still needed. They also questioned the

objectivity of the SPRC report, given that the group had collaborated with members of

Save the Valley in the past (Hamilton Spectator, February 11, 1985).

Finally, criticism was directed towards provincial planners and politicians for

allegedly pressuring the city into considering and favouring the Red Hill route. A brief

from the Regional chairman was presented that referred to the province’s “interest and

investment in ensuring good access to its Heritage Green Development” – the newly

renamed Saltfleet “satellite city” housing development adjacent to the valley and owned

by the province’s own Ontario Land Corporation (Hamilton Spectator, March 4, 1985).

Representatives from the Ministry of Transportation and Communication denied these

charges, insisting that they had only “offered advice” to the city and Region (March 1,

1985). Asked to provide further evidence but unable to convince to panel to order the

Region to produce all relevant internal documents, Herman Turkstra could only point to

the various public and private sector interests promoting the highway and note that the

Region’s primary consultant, DelCan, was also recently employed by the Ontario Land

Corporation (Hamilton Spectator, March 4, 1985).

The joint-board panel announced their decision on October 24, 1985. The two

members of the Ontario Municipal Board ruled in favour of the highway, stating that the

156
Region had conclusively shown that the project was required to meet “a demonstrated

need, in terms of traffic demand… enhance opportunities for future economic

development… and to ensure the maintenance of the Region’s existing industrial and

commercial economy” (Jeffrey, Ball and Henderson 1985: 190). To their satisfaction,

the Region had demonstrated that “the proposed road can be constructed in such a

manner that the physical qualities and the environment of the Valley can be greatly

enhanced to the benefit of the citizens of Hamilton” (ibid: 187-188). Michael Jeffery,

the representative from the Environmental Assessment Board, reached the opposite

conclusions, declaring in his lengthy dissenting submission that he was “unconvinced

that the proposed facility will, in any meaningful way, enhance economic growth in the

Region and it cannot, in my view, be supported on that ground” (203). Indeed, Jeffrey

cited internal memos from the Province, City and Region to support his claim that the

Region had adopted such arguments only after population and traffic growth projections

were scaled back in 1981. He concluded that “the proponent has failed to prove need on

the basis of projected traffic demand” (ibid: 245) and that, even if such need could be

demonstrated, the road should not be located in the valley as it would “inhibit the

preservation of this area as a continuous natural environment and is in fact incompatible

with that natural environment” (ibid: 286).

While the other members of the panel found that the Region had completed an

“exhaustive” environmental assessment showing “that all anticipated adverse impacts

on the environment will be successfully mitigated,” (ibid: 196) Jeffrey highlighted the

failure to provide empirical data on traffic patterns and air quality and the lack of

157
consideration of the road’s impact on three adjacent landfill sites. He also noted that the

Region had provided no evidence that the city was able and willing to implement the

mitigation and rehabilitation measures outlined in the proposed Recreation Master Plan.

Jeffrey criticized the city for having failed to “clean up and enhance the valley in its

natural state” and questioned the prevailing idea that “restoration will somehow be

better accomplished by the construction of an expressway” (ibid: 284).

Finally, Jeffrey’s submission outlined the history of political pressure exerted by the

provincial Ministry of Transportation and Communication and the Technical Advisory

Committee, as detailed in the previous chapter. Citing both public reports and internal

documents submitted during the hearing, he demonstrated that planners and engineers

from both levels of government had continually pushed for the Red Hill route despite

the opposition and resolutions of elected officials at the city and regional level.

Furthermore, Jeffrey called attention to a perceived conflict of interest with respect to

DelCan and other consultants employed by the Region. He advised that in future

hearings attempts be made to ensure that the evidence being presented is not influenced

by the promise of future consultation contracts for the same project. Despite these

concerns, the Region soon offered the position of expressway project manager to Dale

Turvey, a former employee of DelCan.

Expressway opponents quickly launched a formal appeal of the joint-board decision

and began lobbying provincial politicians for support. A recent provincial election had

placed the Liberal party in power, ending 42 years of Conservative party rule, and anti-

expressway groups were hopeful that the new government would accept their argument

158
that the Environmental Assessment had failed to establish the need for the highway.

Nevertheless, on March 13, 1987, Liberal Member of Provincial Parliament Lily Munro

announced that the Province had approved the project and told the Hamilton Spectator

(March 13, 1987) that she would ensure that it would be “a model project of how social

concerns can be wrapped together in transportation and environment.” This vision of a

“green road” was echoed by the Spectator in its description of the highway as a “scenic

route” that will be “as beautiful as it is useful” and provide “incentive to clean up the

valley and end its career as an impromptu garbage dump” (March 24, 1987). With an

estimated completion date of 1999, the Region soon established a highway steering

committee and began awarding contracts for preliminary construction work, including

local road realignments and bridge construction (Hamilton Spectator, June 6, 1990).7

Ecological Modernization and the Politics of Sustainable Development

The outcome of the 1985 joint-board hearing would have lasting impacts on the Red

Hill debate. Most obviously, the decision added further legal legitimacy to the political

support now provided by three levels of government. Furthermore, the various

arguments, ideas and representations articulated during the hearings would recur

throughout the following decades, setting the parameters of the popular debate as a

7
On the eve of an official ground-breaking ceremony for the project, John Ellis, chairman of
Save the Valley, reflected on the failure of activists to stop the project and pointed to a number
of factors, including the political expediency of the valley route; the focus of proponents on
short-term economic gain; a lack of investigative reporting from the local media; and the
prevailing belief among local activists that “reason and the system would protect the valley”. He
also mentioned the tendency of environmentalists to be concerned with distant problems rather
than local urban issues (Hamilton Spectator, June 6, 1990).

159
conflict or “trade off” between “economic growth” and “environmental conservation.”

However, the larger political, economic and cultural context in which those ideas and

visions circulated was rapidly changing. The proliferation of discourses of “sustainable

development” and “economic efficiency” would provide new opportunities for both

proponents and critics of the Red Hill Creek Expressway to reframe the debate over the

city’s future, expanding upon many of the ideas and arguments expressed through the

Joint Board Hearing.

By the early 1980s, coordinated restructuring programs of deregulation, privatization

and tax reduction had begun to emerge in the leading capitalist nations, spearheaded by

the right-wing governments of Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher. Pointing to union

militancy and the “wasteful” social spending of “big government” as the primary causes

of the economic and political crises of the previous decade, these new administrations

aimed to dismantle the welfare state by removing regulatory constraints on international

trade, investment and financial services, drastically reducing government funding for

social programs, and shifting the tax base from corporations to individuals.

Discursively, these reforms were bolstered by appeals to the virtues of entrepreneurial

initiative, the demands of international competitiveness, the bureaucratic inefficiency of

government, and the alleged selfishness and inflexibility of labour (Saad-Filho and

Johnston 2004; Harvey 2007). Additional support was provided by neoconservative

narratives that celebrated individual responsibility, the inviolable right of private

property, and “economic freedom” from excessive taxation and government regulation,

160
while warning of the threats to “family values” and traditional social roles posed by

radical social movements and other “special interest groups” (Frank 2000).

Cities played a prominent role in this era of “roll back neoliberalization” (Brenner

and Theodore 2002).8 Whereas local governments had previously served as the primary

point of administration for the standardized services of the welfare state, the role of the

local state was now redefined as one of facilitating and coordinating market-based

solutions for the production, distribution and exchange of goods and services by

mobilizing local resources, encouraging entrepreneurship, providing economic

incentives for innovation, and ensuring that urban policies did not interfere with the

profit-making ability of the private sector. Neoliberal urban policies focused on various

ways of attracting external investment by lowering the costs of state regulation,

capitalist production and social reproduction. In many ways, this could be seen as a

return to the vision of the early 20th century municipal reform movements that sought to

recreate local governments in the image of the corporation by allegedly removing

political influence from their managerial role of facilitating economic growth (Tindal

and Tindal 2000).

8
Over the past three decades, the neoliberal critique of the welfare state has grown from a
marginal academic debate into a globally influential discourse. This discourse has influenced a
wide variety of political and economic reforms that have been promoted by various
international organisations and adopted by governments around the world. However, contrary to
the claims of those who extol the universal benefits of unregulated “free markets”, neoliberal
projects and policy reforms vary greatly from one place to another. Rather than the internally
consistent, fully realized ideology, policy regime or regulatory framework implied by
“neoliberalism”, Peck and Tickell (2002) have referred to processes of “neoliberalization” –
market-driven transformations of economic, political and social relations that are incomplete,
contradictory, contested, and contingent upon specific historical and geographical conditions.

161
 These sentiments accorded well with many business interests across Canada but such

urban policies were not widely adopted in this country until the mid 1990s.

Nevertheless, the neoliberal ideas and policy proposals exemplified by the governments

of Reagan and Thatcher had a significant influence on political discourse and practice

during the 1980s, particularly with respect to international trade. The federal

Conservative government headed by Brian Mulroney replaced the Trudeau Liberals in

1984, blaming Canada’s economic problems on the previous government’s alleged

hostility to US investment. With sustained and well organized support from business

advocacy groups such as the Canadian Council of Chief Executives, the Conservatives

would go on to sign the Free Trade Agreement with the United States in 1988. This first

bi-national agreement later set the stage for the North American Free Trade Agreement

of 1994 and its controversial legal mechanisms for challenging governmental

regulations deemed “trade restrictive” (Shrybman 2001).

These trade agreements, along with a cheaper Canadian dollar and a sustained

economic boom in the United States, stimulated growth in commerce between the two

countries. Foreign direct investment in Canada grew during the 1990s but the vast

majority of this investment took the form of takeovers of Canadian companies by US

firms (Hemispheric Social Alliance 2003). Canadian manufacturing jobs declined

between 1988 and 1994 as many companies decentralized production processes, often

relocating labour-intensive assembly functions to countries with lower production

costs.9 In Hamilton, the slow growth of the 1970s had given way to a dramatic decline
9
The geographical decentralization of production systems has given rise to a new international
division of labour characterized by the outsourcing and subcontracting of manufacturing from

162
in manufacturing jobs during the 1980s. Manufacturing employment had reached a peak

in 1981 but soon declined over the next decade, as jobs were lost to capital flight,

outsourcing, bankruptcies and the further mechanization of production (Webber and

Fincher 1987). Stelco and Dofasco, Hamilton’s largest employers, dramatically reduced

their workforces while changing manufacturing processes to meet the rise in

competition with foreign steel producers (Anderson 1987). Between 1981 and 1996,

almost fifty percent of local manufacturing jobs had been lost, while service sector jobs

grew, particularly in the field of health services. By the turn of the century, the Hamilton

Health Sciences Corporation had become the city’s largest employer (Freeman 2001).

Hamilton’s economy and workforce gradually became more integrated with the

Greater Toronto Area to the north and the Niagara Peninsula to the east. By the mid

1990s, more commuters were leaving the city for work than entering it. Suburban

development on the escarpment continued to expand, while the population of the lower

city continued to decline. Increasingly, the escarpment could be seen as a dividing line

between two cities. The mountain remained a predominantly suburban area, with large-

scale housing developments and commercial centres moving southward into the rural

developed to less developed regions and nations, primarily in the search for lower wages and
government regulations that are considered less intrusive and restrictive. Place-marketing
becomes increasingly important as cities compete for jobs and investment (Short 1999).
Formerly prosperous manufacturing centers are faced with rapid decline as they struggle to
redefine and reposition themselves in relation to the economic processes that drive growth
within these new regional and international urban hierarchies. This increase in economic
disparities between cities within the same nation is mirrored by increasing socio-economic
polarization within cities. The expansion of high-wage jobs tied to international finance and
specialized services has been accompanied by the growth of low-wage and/or part-time jobs
that are frequently non-unionized and poorly regulated, such as sweatshops and homeworking,
and which rely heavily upon feminized and immigrant labour (Sassen 1994).

163
periphery. By 2001, the household income on the mountain was 30.7 per cent higher

than other regions of the city and over two thirds of residents in this area were

homeowners. In contrast, the lower city has many more tenants, significantly lower

levels of household income, and a much older housing stock that includes many vacant

buildings (Freeman 2001). Those who live in the central and eastern sections of the

lower city also face higher concentrations of air pollution10 (Jerrett et al. 2001),

unemployment, poverty and homelessness (Social Planning and Research Council 2003,

2004). Racial divisions have also become more pronounced as more visible minorities

and recent immigrants settle within the inner city, particularly within low-rent

neighbourhoods (Bird 2006).

As discussed earlier, proponents of the Red Hill Creek Expressway responded to the

gradual decline of employment along Hamilton’s industrial waterfront with an

increasing emphasis on the necessity of the road for stimulating and servicing industrial

and commercial development on the escarpment. This argument contrasted with the

Region’s Environmental Assessment Submission from 1982, which presented the road as

a vital response to projected increases in north-south traffic flows across the

escarpment, as people commuted between the growing suburbs there and employment

located in the lower city to the north. Here, the circular logic mentioned earlier is starkly

revealed. As Michael Webber and Ruth Fincher (1987: 248) noted in their critical

assessment of the project, “if the expressway does lead to the creation of new jobs and

10
The concentration of air pollution in the lower city is exacerbated by air temperature inversions that are
created by the escarpment, often trapping pollutants in the lower city beneath a layer of warmer air
masses (Rouse and Burghardt 1987).

164
business south of the escarpment, as the region’s consultants predict, then it is precisely

this that will reduce use of the proposed escarpment-crossing road, because people will

not need to drive north to work or shop.”

Nevertheless, from the late 1980s onwards, many proponents emphasized the need

for the expressway as an essential means of attracting new investment to “employment

lands” on the escarpment rather than servicing existing industrial development on the

waterfront. Advocates emphasized the threats to local jobs posed by growing inter-

urban competition for investment within an emergent “global economy” and the need to

create a favourable “business climate” to encourage that investment and reclaim

Hamilton’s status as a vibrant and powerful urban centre. The provision of large, well-

serviced greenfields on the escarpment was presented as crucial to the city’s success in

this new economic environment and the road was presented as a vital piece of this larger

development plan, along with various industrial parks, the John C. Munro International

airport further south, and commercial areas such as the proposed Meadowlands “big

box” development to the west.

While this vision of Hamilton’s future was supported by growing acceptance of the

neoliberal conception of the city as global competitor, another related discourse of

urban renewal was beginning to dramatically reshape the dominant environmental

imaginary of the industrial city. Following the publication of the Brundtland Report by

the World Commission on Environment and Development in 1987, the concept of

sustainable development circulated widely, shifting the environmental debate away

from the limits to growth imposed by the depletion of natural resources and toward the

165
actual practices and goals of development. This naturally brought with it a focus on

urbanization and the articulation of a “brown agenda” for urban health and

sustainability to complement the more familiar green agenda of global environmental

problems such as resource depletion, deforestation and global warming (Satterthwaite

1997.

The ambiguity of sustainable development and its optimistic promise of a new era of

people and planet-friendly development has contributed both to its wide-spread

acceptance and to ongoing debates about what sustainable development actually means

in practice (Redclift 1987; Mebratu 1998; Robinson 2001). Interpretations vary greatly,

but all generally accept the basic thesis of “ecological modernization,” which maintains

that the social, political and economic practices and institutions of capitalist

modernization can and must be modified to create a new strategy for long-term

economic and ecological stability, alleviating both poverty and environmental

deterioration (Christoff 1996; Mol 1996, 2001). Based on the recognition of the

negative environmental impacts of economic growth, the global scale of many of these

problems, and the failures of the piecemeal end-of-pipe solutions promoted by the

standard view of environmental management, ecological modernization recommends

“that the ad hoc, fragmented and bureaucratic approach to state regulation should be

replaced by a far more systematic set of politics, institutional arrangements and

regulatory practices” (Harvey 1996: 377).

The Rio Earth Summit of 1992 further advanced the discussion of ecological

modernization and urban sustainability through its implementation programme, Agenda

166
21. This document was intended to assist the creation of effective national and local

strategies for sustainability, with a strong focus on urban issues, environmental

education and the need for public dialogue and engagement. Agenda 21 and subsequent

elaborations of urban sustainability by prominent government and non-governmental

bodies over the last fifteen years have helped to shape a dominant discourse that

emphasizes urban environmental management, good governance and technological

innovation (Haughton and Hunter 1994; Brand and Thomas 2005). As many have

argued, this discourse of environmental management, like previous forms of

developmentalism,11 is firmly grounded in European Enlightenment notions of a single

path to progress and the redemptive powers of science and technology (The Ecologist

1993; Sachs 1999). As Anne Broadhead writes, “by taking the language of ecology and

diversity and marrying it to the economic exploitation and growth that led to

environmental deterioration in the first instance, the Brundtland Report can be seen to

be responsible for the construction of a limited and limiting concept – one that diffuses

critique by reconciling the inherent tension in the logic of growth and development”

(2002: 44)

11
“Developmentalism” here refers the notion of development as political ideology, based on a
set of core assumptions that include: 1) linear modernization: the belief that all of the world’s
nations are moving along the same track toward greater maturity and prosperity, exemplified by
wealthy Western nations such as the United States; 2) the sustainability of capitalism: the belief
that capitalism is infinitely sustainable, and can and should be adopted by all nations; 3) the
universal benefits of growth: the belief that economic growth is the key to human well-being
and happiness. All of these beliefs have, of course, been profoundly shaken by the widespread
recognition that capitalist development and modernization, particularly in its present neoliberal
form, is creating enormous wealth for some and terrible poverty for others, while contributing to
environmental degradation that increasingly threatens the survival of human and non-human life
(Sachs 1992; Rahnema and Bawtree 1997; Easterly 2007).

167
 In an urban context, this dominant discourse frequently employs apolitical

conceptions of the city as a dynamic system or organism and, like earlier functionalist

models of urban metabolism, assumes a rational choice perspective in which emphasis

is placed upon the effective management of individual and collective behaviour (Gandy

2004). In the march towards urban sustainability, issues of cultural difference and

political and economic power remain neglected or obscured. This approach easily

coexists with neoliberal economic trends and faith in the power of unregulated markets

to foster the innovation required for sustainable development. In such a context,

“urbanization is taken as an evolutionary phenomenon and the significance of the

globalization of capital is subsumed within Darwinian analogies of urban competition”

(Brand and Thomas 2005: 39).

The widespread adoption of urban sustainability discourse and practice during the

1990s should be understood in the wider context of the crisis of Fordist urbanization

and the search for new forms of economic development, urban governance and social

regulation (Keil and Graham 1998). These crisis tendencies, emerging since the 1970s,

revolve around decreases in the financial capacity of the public sector to maintain low-

density housing and infrastructure, the drain of suburbanization upon central urban

regions, growing public concern for environmental health and the preservation of

existing communities, social polarization and a more general “disenchantment” with

modernist values and consumption patterns (Filion 1995). The turn toward a discourse

of sustainability in urban planning and politics can be seen as part of the larger shift

throughout the advanced capitalist nations towards more “flexible”, decentralized

168
modes of production, consumption patterns and institutional norms in the attempt to

address the conflicts and contradictions that emerged within the Fordist paradigm

(Amin 1994).

The compact, green city presents a potent image for re-imagining and re-marketing

cities in the effort to attract new investment, while responding to public concern over

the detrimental impacts of development. This re-branding is particularly attractive to

industrial centres as they work to counter negative images of pollution and decline

(Watson 1991; Short 1999). In addition to recasting a city’s image, the rehabilitation of

polluted urban spaces and investments in “environmentally friendly” measures such as

public transit can open up new spaces for investment and attract people to previously

“undesirable” areas (Desfor and Keil 2004). Further, investment in energy and waste

reduction programs promised to provide real savings for governments, businesses and

residents in an era of cost-cutting and funding roll-backs. The adoption of sustainability

discourse within urban planning can also be seen as a way of re-casting and

reinvigorating the role of the planner in the midst of the neoliberal contraction of the

state. With the shift towards market-based solutions and collaborative modes of urban

governance, the planning profession “began to redefine itself as managing

communicative processes rather than state budgets and public investment.” Urban

sustainability provided “substantive content to the deliberative procedures of

communicative planning”, drawing together the increasingly important issues of social

cohesion, quality of life, and economic development (Brand and Thomas 2005: 40).

169
 Drawing upon the work of David Harvey (1982, 1996), While, Jonas and Gibbs

(2004: 151) have usefully conceptualized the selective adoption of environmental goals

within urban policy regimes in terms of the search for an “urban sustainability fix” – the

effort to “safeguard growth trajectories in the wake of industrial capitalism’s long

downturn, the global ecological crisis and the rise of popular environmentalism.” In the

midst of neoliberal state restructuring, and under the twin pressures of growing

environmental concern and a resurgent urban entrepreneurialism, the discourse of urban

sustainability provided a way of trying to reconcile conflicting imperatives and interests

by “balancing economic, social and environmental demands” (ibid). However, this

balancing act is never an easy one, as the case of Hamilton demonstrates.12

In the Hamilton region, the discourse of sustainable development challenged some of

the basic features of the dominant industrial imaginary, particularly the conception of

nature as a raw material and waste sink for economic production. Ecological

modernization suggested a shift from a linear model of urban metabolism in which

natural processes are simply utilized and wastes externalized to a circular model of

biophysical exchange that defines urban sustainability in terms of the achievement of

homeostatic stability and efficiency, primarily through technological and regulatory

12

On a more global scale, we can understand the embrace of sustainability as part of an emergent
“ecological phase” of capitalism (Escobar 1995; O’Connor 1996; Luke 1997). “The primary
dynamic of capitalism changes form, from accumulation and growth feeding on an external
domain to ostensible self-management and conservation of the system of capitalized nature
closed back on itself.” Conditions of production that previously absorbed “the extra burdens of
unhealthy working conditions” and provided “an external domain of exploitation,” including
natural environments, public spaces, and communal, domestic and subsistence forms of labour
and social organization, are re-conceptualized as productive sectors of the economy that must be
priced and factored into the sustainable management of capital on a planetary scale (O’Connor
1994: 126).

170
innovation (Giradet 1992). As discussed below, many planners and business interests in

Hamilton embraced this vision as a way of revitalizing the region’s economy and

identity, recasting the industrial city as a clean, efficient and innovative green city. In

addition, the discourse of sustainable development provided further impetus for moving

towards a more “collaborative” mode of local governance, as demonstrated by the

Vision 2020 plan discussed below.

These discursive shifts opened up new challenges and opportunities for those

involved in the expressway conflict. The dominant narrative of growth and progress

articulated by expressway proponents continued to foreground the political frames of

urban growth, representative democracy, and freedom and prosperity, but the language

of sustainable development now provided a means of presenting the expressway as vital

to the “economic sustainability” of the region in the face of the new challenges

presented by economic globalization, even as this same discourse presented new

challenges with its emphasis on collaborative governance and increased pressure to

reconcile urban development with the degradation of land, water and air. Expressway

opponents were provided with new discursive support for their arguments, linking the

local struggle against the expressway to a seemingly renewed global effort to address

ecological degradation, even as the language of sustainability was quickly being co-

opted by business interests and fused with the imperatives of neoliberal urbanization.

Nevertheless, as detailed below, the language of sustainable development and urban

sustainability, alongside the new social fissures and economic divisions exacerbated up

171
by neoliberalization, provided new tools and opportunities for advancing the struggle

against the expressway and the larger vision of urban development it represented.

Vision 2020: Participatory Planning and the Promise of Ecological Modernization

As early as 1989, the Region of Hamilton Wentworth had established a citizen Task

Force on Sustainable Development, composed of volunteers from various sectors,

including the local government, academia, business, and a variety of community groups.

Through community forums and discussion groups, this group facilitated public input in

the creation of a comprehensive urban sustainability plan for the Hamilton region. Well

over one thousand citizens participated at various stages through working groups and

implementation teams assigned to develop reports on specific theme areas, and/or

public forums that solicited input on the principles, goals and implementation of the

plan (City of Hamilton 2003a). Out of this process, the Vision 2020 sustainability plan

was generated – a collection of principles, goals, strategies and policy recommendations

intended to guide municipal planning. Invoking the familiar language of the Brundtland

Report, sustainable development in Hamilton is defined as “the achievement in all

decision making of a balance between the three legs of sustainability: the economy, the

natural environment, and social/health factors; and the recognition of the need to

preserve a balance between the needs of present and future generations” (Regional

Municipality of Hamilton Wentworth 1998a).

Task Force studies were designed to identify emerging trends and potential

opportunities for diversifying the local economy. From the beginning, Vision 2020

172
followed popular definitions of sustainable development in placing its emphasis on the

efficient use of existing resources, collaborative decision-making, and the promotion of

socially and environmentally responsible forms of economic and technological

development. Simultaneously, the local government began reorienting its development

strategy toward the world market, competing with other cities to attract investment from

regional and multi-national capital by offering cheap commercial space and

accommodations on the periphery of the more expensive economic heartland of

Toronto.

The plans’ recommendations include the identification and protection of natural areas

and corridors; improving water resources; improving air quality; waste reduction and

diversion; the reduction of energy consumption; the promotion of a “compact urban

form”; ensuring good health and the provision of adequate social services; community

empowerment; support for cultural diversity and the arts; support for local agriculture;

encouraging diversity and innovation within the local economy; and the reduction of

reliance on the private automobile by increasing support for alternative modes of

transportation. Following the publication of the report, discussion and debate of the

different means of implementing the plan began. The Region created a Staff Working

Group on Sustainable Development with the mandate of “facilitating the

implementation of the vision statement in the operations of the municipality” and also

assisted in establishing Citizens for a Sustainable Community, a volunteer citizen’s

group charged with encouraging public support for the plan within the wider

community (Regional Municipality of Hamilton Wentworth 1998a).

173
 Vision 2020 drew upon a number of sources of inspiration and energy. In addition to

the Brundtland Report and the proliferation of sustainable development discourse at an

international level, ecosystem-based planning had been popularized at the national level

by Canada’s 1990 Green Plan and at the local level by the development of a multi-

stakeholder Remedial Action Plan for the rehabilitation of the Hamilton Harbour. This

later effort, which began in 1986, generated considerable enthusiasm for collaborative

environmental governance and the possibilities for tackling the significant levels of

pollution within the Harbour (Sproule-Jones 1999). At a regional scale, these same

principles of collaborative ecosystem planning were promoted by the Royal

Commission on the Future of Toronto’s Waterfront (RCFTW), a joint federal-provincial

effort that created recommendations for the “regeneration” of the waterfront: the

development of other Remedial Action Plans; the protection of environmentally

sensitive areas; improved public access; and the establishment of a waterfront trail from

Niagara to the eastern fringes of the Greater Toronto Area (RCFTW 1991; 1992). The

designation of the Niagara Escarpment as a “world biosphere reserve” by the United

Nations in 1990 drew further attention to the ecological significance of natural areas

linked to this massive land formation, including the Red Hill Valley, and helped support

the efforts of community groups working to protect the escarpment from the impacts of

encroaching development.13

13

The most prominent of these groups is the Coalition on the Niagara Escarpment (CONE),
formed in 1978 in response to the encroachment of aggregate industries and housing
developments on escarpment lands. CONE was involved in the creation of the Niagara
Escarpment Plan in the late 1970s and early 1980s. The coalition is composed of hundreds of
individual members and over 20 environmental organizations, including the Hamilton

174
 The successes of the Vision 2020 process, particularly its comprehensiveness and

depth of public participation, were celebrated by the International Council for Local

Environmental Initiatives (ICLEI), which selected Hamilton to participate in the United

Nations Local Agenda 21 Model Community programme in 1993. Other awards from

Environment Canada and the Recycling Council of Ontario soon followed. A number of

recommendations based on the Vision 2020 plan were formally integrated into the

Region’s new Official Plan in 1994 and implementation programs for transportation and

pollution prevention were initiated. A “sustainable decision-making guide” was

established, requiring staff to consider all decisions in relation to the principles of the

Vision 2020 plan, along with a Staff Working Group on Sustainable Development

charged with integrating those principles into departmental work programs. Spin-off

projects included the establishment of the Hamilton Air Quality Initiative, a multi-

stakeholder initiative involving researchers and various levels of government. Through

further public consultations, an annual report of “Sustainable Community Indicators”

was developed to monitor progress towards the goals of the Vision and convey this

information to the public. Modest goals were achieved over the remainder of the 1990s,

particularly with respect to waste reduction, and the indicators report helped to sustain

public interest in the plan, locally and internationally. Nevertheless, the plan was not

widely understood or accepted within the halls of municipal government and in the

wider community, due to both a general lack of understanding of sustainability and to

active political resistance to policy changes considered “radical” or “impractical”.14

Naturalists Club and the Conserver Society of Hamilton and District.

14

175
 Under the pressures of funding cuts, population growth, aging infrastructure and the

perceived need to market the city to global capital, the improvement of environmental

quality and the strategic use of local skills and resources increasingly came to be seen

by many local politicians, planners and entrepreneurs as the key to economic success.

Alliances between non-state actors and local government and the creation of

collaborative strategies for economic development that will mobilize local resources are

crucial to this “post-Fordist” strategy (Mayer 1993), and the participatory processes of

Vision 2020 can be understood as an attempt to build these kind of bridges. Considered

in this strategic economic frame, sustainability is understood as an alternative approach

to development that considers the social, environmental and economic “costs, benefits

and risks”, for the present and future generations, of any given program, policy or

project (City of Hamilton 2003c: 1). Incremental improvements in environmental

management and resource efficiency, and the sharing of environmental responsibility

between “citizens, government and business,” are identified as the principle means of

achieving “a sustainable community” (ibid: 1). What remained unexamined in this

approach, however, were the very different understandings of “sustainability” and

“development” that different participants brought to the table (Oddie 2003).

“Probably the most significant barrier to this initiative and one which maybe we should have
spent more time on before starting the Task Force has been community awareness and
understanding. Although the efforts of the last seven years has increased the proportion of
people in the community who are aware of sustainable development to between 10 to 15
percent, when the initiative started it was extremely low. The final products of the Task Force
may have been stronger and had better community support if a larger proportion of the
population understood the purpose of the initiative and its importance” (Region of Hamilton
Wentworth 1997: 41).

176
Roadblock: Money, Trees and the NDP

Sustainability discourse, largely within an ecological modernization frame focused on

collaborative governance, technological innovation and economic renewal, also figured

prominently in the election platform of the Ontario NDP. In 1990, they gained power for

the first time in Ontario’s history under the leadership of Bob Rae. The NDP had

traditionally faired well in Hamilton, with its long history of labour politics, and in this

election, all six of the local provincial ridings went to the NDP. Rumours quickly began

circulating that the NDP was considering withdrawing provincial funding for the Red

Hill Creek Expressway in response to both public concern and a perceived

incompatibility with their platform focus on sustainability (Hamilton Spectator,

November 16, 1990). Nevertheless, the Region continued ahead with preliminary

construction work, including the tendering of a contract for the removal of trees along

the pathway of the highway. In December, 1990, the Province asked the Region to

postpone the tendering of the contract to allow for three weeks of deliberation, but this

request was rejected by Regional Chairman Reg Whynott. In response, the NDP soon

announced that provincial funding for the project was cancelled, citing the concerns

raised in Michael Jeffrey’s dissenting joint-board hearing report and arguing that “the

Red Hill Creek valley is irreplaceable, it is a natural asset that Hamilton must not lose”

(Hamilton Spectator, December 17, 1990).

Reaction to this decision was swift and predictable. Local environmentalists

applauded the decision, while business groups reacted with astonishment and anger. The

most prominent and vocal groups still included the Hamilton Chamber of Commerce,

177
the Hamilton-Halton Homebuilders, the Hamilton Construction Association and the

Hamilton Automobile Club (Hamilton Spectator, December 19, 1990). In the weeks

following the cancellation, the Spectator published numerous letters and articles on the

debate, along with editorials that decried the government’s decision and called for the

reinstatement of funding. Again, familiar arguments were utilized, including estimations

of the millions of dollars in “lost business” and thousands of “lost jobs” caused by the

cancellation (ibid, April 15, 1991), predictions of an imminent “traffic crisis” (ibid,

December 19, 1990), and the depiction of the valley as a garbage dump no longer

worthy of preservation (Hamilton Spectator editorial, December 18, 1990).15 Proponents

sought to represent the NDP decision as anti-democratic, arguing that the expressway

project was “the product of the democratic political process and methodological, long-

term planning” (ibid, December 21, 1990), representing the “will of the majority” in

contrast to the “special interest groups” that had allegedly influenced the NDP (Tom

Buck quoted in Hamilton Spectator, February 2, 1991).

Those opposed to the project continued to be represented as environmentalists who

were privileging trees and wildlife preservation over the “progress” of “our

technological, urbanized society” (ibid) (Figure 4.4). Letters to the editor repeated the

familiar argument that the destruction of greenspace was “the price of progress” and

framed the debate as a choice between “progress or environment” (ibid, February 18,

15

The Region announced that development in the upper Stoney Creek area would have to be
limited to a population of 15,000 people due to the cancellation of the expressway, but soon
lifted this cap to 16,500 in 1993 under pressure from local developers. Proposals for further
residential developments raised this cap again to 21,000 in 1996 (Friends of Red Hill Valley
newsletter, January 1998).

178
1991), between “reason” and “dogma” (Larry DiIanni, quoted in Hamilton Spectator,

January 11, 1991), between “creating jobs” or “saving trees” (Hamilton Spectator,

December 24, 1990). A serious economic recession in the late 1980s and early 1990s,

amplifying local concerns over unemployment and investment, bolstered these

arguments. The Region presented a more nuanced version of the “economic progress

versus environmental protection” frame that drew upon the language of ecological

modernization. They claimed that the expressway project “reflects a broader

appreciation of ‘the environment’ which includes not only the natural environment, but

also consideration of people and the economic well-being of the community,” and

represented critics of the project as narrowly focused upon the protection of flora and

fauna (ibid, December 22, 1990).

Figure 4.4: Tree Crossing (Hamilton Spectator, January 5, 1991)

179
 Shortly after the NDP’s announcement, Stoney Creek councillor Larry DiIanni told

the Spectator, “We have to make the government hear rational voices… We have to

organize like the groups that got the government to make this decision in the first place”

(Hamilton Spectator, January 11, 1991). Expressway supporters quickly did just that.

Members of the Chamber of Commerce, Hamilton Construction Association, Hamilton

Real Estate Board, the Automobile Club and the Centennial Ratepayers Group created

the Citizen’s Expressway Committee (CEC) to lobby the provincial government and

drum up local support. This group helped to organize a number of public meetings and

rallies for local business interests in support of the highway, including a visit from

provincial Progressive Conservative leader Mike Harris, who indicated that his party

180
would restore funding if elected (ibid, February 8, 1991). The Liberal party also soon

indicated their support (ibid, October 1, 1991). The CEC organized a number of protests

against the provincial NDP, including a rally of 600 people at Queen’s Park (ibid, May

15, 1991) (Figure 4.5) and disruption of the NDP party convention (ibid, June 20,

1992). The Spectator provided a great deal of coverage of the CEC’s actions and

published a number of advertisements for the group, including a sixteen-page

supplement in the newspaper in advance of the Queen’s Park rally (ibid, May 9, 1991).16

Figure 4.5: Pro-Expressway Rally at Queen’s Park (Hamilton Spectator, May 16,

1991)

16

This advertisement provoked a letter of concern from Dana Robbins of the Southern Ontario
Newspaper Guild Local 87 (Hamilton Spectator, May 8, 1991). Curiously, Robbins would later
go on to become the paper’s Editor-in-Chief.

181
 At the same time, anti-expressway forces were gathering strength for a new wave of

activism, taking advantage of the political opportunities presented by the funding

cancellation, the increase in public concern about environmental issues and an emergent

popular discourse of urban sustainability. The energies of Save the Valley and other

opposition groups had dissipated at this point, exhausted by the failure of the joint-

board process. Friends of Red Hill Valley was formed in 1991 and would go on to

distinguish itself from previous waves of opposition through the diverse strategies they

employed, the broad coalitions they helped support, and their ability to adapt quickly

and effectively to changing circumstances and political opportunities. Like previous

opposition groups, Friends initially focused on promoting the value of the valley as a

recreational and ecological resource but soon began placing a particular emphasis on

public education and public engagement in the valley, gradually developing a diverse

program of active stewardship that included guided walks, ecological monitoring

programs, community clean-up days, and other public events such as the annual Good

Friday hike. Early newsletters also celebrated the rich human history of the valley,

before and after colonization. Friends adopted a “shotgun approach,” looking at the

issue from multiple angles and circulating multiple arguments against the expressway

through their newsletter, letter-writing campaigns, media articles and community events

(Don McLean, February 18, 2007). Operated by a small core group with experience in

both academia and activism, the organization quickly broadened its informal

182
membership through networking with other environmental groups around Southern

Ontario.17

Following the funding cancellation, the Region had shifted their attention to the east-

west mountain expressway. The province pushed for the reconsideration of alternative

north-south routes such as Highway 20 and Fruitland Road, while the Hamilton

Conservation Authority offered to take over management of the valley. The Region

rejected these options and announced that it was now considering the possibility of

funding the Red Hill route by itself (Hamilton Spectator, July 2, 1991). Friends and

other local groups began lobbying the provincial government to designate the valley as

a provincial park, pointing to a recent biological inventory by the Hamilton Naturalists

Club that demonstrated the diversity of wildlife and plant species in the valley (ibid,

September 24, 1993).

At the end of 1992, the Conservation Authority offered to broker a deal with the

province for an alternative route (Hamilton Spectator, December 2, 1992) and the

Province eventually responded by appointing David Crombie, former Toronto mayor

and a former federal cabinet minister, to try and negotiate a compromise with the

Region (ibid, October 9, 1993). Crombie had recently chaired the Royal Commission on

the Future of Toronto’s Waterfront and his appointment generated optimism among

those opposed to the expressway. In particular, Friends noted the Royal Commission’s

promotion of greenways: “corridors of protected greenspace, throughout the cities and

17
For example, I first encountered representatives of the Friends of Red Hill Valley and learned about the
expressway debate through an activist workshop organized by the Ontario Public Interest Research Group
at Brock University.

183
beyond, into the countryside” (quoted in Friends of Red Hill Valley newsletter,

December 1993). Their optimism was surely tempered by the rigid position of many

local politicians, exemplified by Mayor Bob Morrow’s declaration: “If [Mr. Crombie]

recommends something other than Red Hill for the expressway, then we will wait for a

change in government to build this” (Hamilton Spectator, October 15, 1993).

Other avenues of possible resistance to the expressway were also appearing at this

point. Under a newly elected Liberal government, local politician and expressway

opponent Sheila Copps had been appointed as federal Minister of the Environment,

declaring her support for “environmentally friendly” infrastructure and the privileging

of mass transit over roadways. The valley itself had revealed new questions and

concerns when a local artist painting near the Red Hill Creek uncovered various Native

artefacts, dating back to around 2200 to 1800 B.C (Hamilton Spectator, June 18, 1993).

This discovery prompted McMaster University archaeologist William Noble to suggest

a full archaeological survey and offer his services to the Region. That same year,

migrating salmon were sighted in the Creek for the first time in over one hundred years

(Friends of Red Hill Valley newsletter, July 1993). The salmon and other fish

encountered great difficulty as a result of the concrete channelization of the creek that

had taken place during preliminary construction work near the northern end of the

valley, and local citizens began the practice of catching and carrying salmon over this

obstruction.

The flourishing of local sustainability initiatives, ecological restoration efforts and

“green businesses” such as recycling and other environmental services during this

184
period fuelled optimism about Hamilton’s potential to recast its image and economy

around the principles of sustainable development. Restoration efforts in and around

Hamilton Harbour had now extended further west into Cootes Paradise and a new

harbour front public park and trail system had opened just north of the downtown core

on former industrial land (Wakefield 2006), while local companies such as Philip

Environmental and Zenon Environmental Inc. were gaining international notoriety for

their respective forays into “renewable” waste management and water purification

(Kendrick and Moore 1995). The economic benefits of ecological modernization were

spelled out in a federal report on rehabilitation of the harbour, linking these efforts to

the potential of improving “quality of life” in the Hamilton area, encouraging urban

intensification and attracting and retaining new industries specializing in environmental

products services, communications and electronics manufacturing. This emphasis on

“green business” was front and centre in the Vision 2020 plan as well as the final report

of the Renaissance Project, a parallel committee created by Regional Chairman Reg

Whynott to create a business “action plan.” The Renaissance Report echoes Vision 2020

in its proposal that Hamilton focus on a “growing business sector in environmental

products and services” and promote the region as an “Environmental Centre of

Excellence” (quoted in Regional Municipality of Hamilton-Wentworth 1995: 3).

Expressway opponents were hopeful that the highway would appear increasingly

outdated and incompatible with this new vision of Hamilton’s future. Friends and other

groups argued that the project directly contradicted Hamilton’s commitment to

“alternative transportation”, a more compact urban form, the improvement of air and

185
water quality, the protection of natural areas, and restoration efforts in the harbour. They

highlighted the spatial dimensions of this debate as well, noting that the Region was

supporting efforts at ecological modernization and restoration in the more affluent

western end of the city while pursuing a project that exacerbated ecological degradation

in the more impoverished east end. “What you gain at one end of the harbour, you turn

around and destroy at the other end. This ‘western’ logic includes spending millions to

develop more parks in the west end while ploughing a six-lane expressway through the

only significant greenspace in the east end” (Friends of Red Hill Valley newsletter,

December 1993: 4).

However, the history of urban development and infrastructure demonstrates that

large-scale development projects frequently generate considerable political and

economic momentum and inertia, channelling energy and money along particular

development paths that are difficult to alter once set in motion (Atkinson and Oleson

1996). The substantial investments of time and money made by multiple actors, within

and outside of the walls of government, increase the political pressure to realize a

project’s completion. And so, while the Region promoted and pursued its path of

participatory planning and ecological modernization, it continued to press for the

expressway as vital piece of infrastructure. By this time, the estimated costs of the

highway had risen to $200 million. The Region’s 1994 Official Plan adopted many of

the proposals and policy directions from Vision 2020 while also stating in its discussion

of transportation reform that, “nothing in this Plan shall preclude the construction of this

186
roadway through the Red Hill Creek Valley” (Regional Municipality of Hamilton

Wentworth 1998a: 34).

David Crombie was faced with the difficult task of identifying some sort of

compromise between the expressway and the protection of the valley on the behalf of

the provincial NDP. According to Crombie (November 24, 2005), “They knew they had

to be careful because polls were showing a fair bit of support amongst the public.”18 His

final report anticipated lower traffic demands and proposed the construction of a smaller

four-lane arterial road running along one side of the valley, leaving a much larger

continuous greenspace untouched. The road would travel underground at some points

and avoid the sensitive wetlands at the north end of the valley (now designated as a

“Provincial Class One wetland”), running instead along Woodward Avenue to the

Queen Elizabeth Way. Working closely with ecologist Bruce Duncan of the Hamilton

Regional Conservation Authority, Crombie emphasized various measures that should be

used to minimize the damage to the valley and to address existing problems such as the

sewer overflows and concrete channels along the creek.

Attached to the Crombie proposal was $18 million of provincial funding for

restoration work within the valley (Hamilton Spectator, March 3, 1994). The report was
18

According to David Crombie (November 24, 2005), “it’s fair to say that most of the opinion
makers in the area and the majority of Hamilton residents supported the project. It was a strange
situation because the NDP were opposed but I think most local working people supported the
highway, certainly on the mountain in any case. I don’t think people really got it, as an
environmental issue. That’s not particularly characteristic of Hamilton. This was all happening
in the midst of the second environmental movement of the last century, the first being in the
1960s and 70s, but people were still following their familiar instincts and old ways of
thinking… I think the real weight for it came from the public. This wasn’t something that was
just foisted on to the public.”

187
titled “Vision 2020: the Provincial Response” and lauded Hamilton’s efforts at urban

sustainability, offering additional funding for related projects such as a venture capital

fund for green businesses, a world biosphere interpretative centre focused on the

Niagara Escarpment, and the establishment of a branch of the United Nations University

specializing in environmental issues (ibid, March 5, 1994). According to Crombie

(November 24, 2005), his report suggested, “implicitly if not explicitly, that the

highway was a bad idea” and was intended “to show that if you’re going to build a road

it should at least be done ecologically, knowing that this would be very costly for them.

That was sort of the strategy.”

The Conservation Authority, the Friends of Red Hill Valley and others opposed to the

original highway soon endorsed Crombie’s proposal as an acceptable compromise

(Hamilton Spectator, March 22, 1994). A poll of 250 people found that 70% supported

the Crombie proposal (ibid, April 26, 1994) but residents of Woodward Avenue quickly

mobilized to express their opposition (ibid, May 30, 1994). Crombie began meeting

with groups in this area while the Region prepared their response to his proposal.

Rumours circulated that some councillors would reject the proposal because of

affiliations with the provincial Liberal party and aspirations to run in the upcoming

1995 election (March 8, 1994). Formal discussion of the proposal was confined to the

Transportation Services Committee, city staff and various consultants, but comments to

the media revealed that many councillors and staff considered Crombie’s smaller and

slower road to be “inadequate” for Hamilton’s future traffic demands, particularly truck

traffic. Neither of the Region’s two environmental committees was asked to comment

188
on the proposal and the Transportation Committee refused to accept public delegations

on the issue (Friends of Red Hill Valley newsletter, December 1994).

140 days passed before the Transportation Services Committee unanimously agreed

to reject the Crombie proposal in favour of a modified four-lane expressway with six

interchanges (Hamilton Spectator, June 15, 1994). The public was now invited to

provide their input on possible alternative routes through a small series of open houses

and presentations, but a new modified route was presented to and endorsed by the

Committee just one day after these public submissions concluded (ibid, July 12, 1994).

In response, critics such as Friends of the Red Hill Valley contrasted this process with

the participatory processes used to create Vision 2020, arguing that “democracy, or

more precisely the lack thereof, is at the very heart of the environmental difficulties

facing Hamilton-Wentworth” (Friends of Red Hill Valley newsletter, December 1994:

3).

Indeed, democracy was now becoming a central issue in the debate, alongside

questions of Hamilton’s economic future. Environmentalists had succeeded in

politicizing urban development, drawing attention both to the ecological and socio-

economic impacts of different economic development strategies and to limited or

exclusionary decision-making processes. The Vision 2020 plan, truly exemplary in its

time for its comprehensiveness and depth of public participation, raised expectations

among many activists that Hamilton was now moving towards a new model of urban

planning and development that would be incompatible with the completion of the

expressway and that had established a new standard for public involvement in decision-

189
making. The ensuing debate galvanized two opposing visions of ecological

modernization. One remained rooted in the well-established growth and progress

narrative and the dominant industrial imaginary, envisaging the co-existence of post-

Fordist investments in “green business” and environmental amenities alongside the

established forms of industrial development and infrastructure that many business

interests, planners and politicians considered essential for sustaining economic growth.

The other vision, drawing upon the narrative of ecological conservation and civic

reform, presented the valley as the symbol of more profound changes in urban form,

transportation and economic development based on urban intensification, public transit,

participatory decision-making structures, and economic strategies that have little or no

negative social and ecological impacts. These two visions would be developed further

as the conflict over the highway intensified and as the ideological terrain of the struggle

continued to shift, pulling the debate further into questions of economic restructuring,

democracy, citizenship and justice.

190