The mayor asked for an early election. That might not be enough.
OPINION — On Friday, Oct. 6, Rideau Lakes Mayor Arie Hoogenboom publicly asked the province to declare all council seats vacant and call an early election. It was an extraordinary action, and some called him brave for doing so.
But has Rideau Lakes’ governance broken down beyond local repair?
Hoogenboom’s request, dramatic as it is, may not go far enough. On Oct. 6, during the last committee-of-the-whole meeting, township staff walked out, invoking their rights under Ontario’s Occupational Health and Safety Act and refusing to return until meetings could be held virtually. Police were called and the CAO shut down proceedings. Seven integrity commissioner reports on councillor conduct had just consumed two hours of shouting and amended motions. Twice, the gallery erupted in loud disagreement over how council handled the sanctions.
It was the most dramatic moment of a term defined by them. And it felt inevitable.
I’ve covered this council for over a decade across four media outlets, documenting both its successes and its increasingly bitter dysfunction. The mayor’s request for provincial intervention confirms what many have suspected: this may not be a rough patch that another election can fix.
I grew up here. I went to school here. My family still lives throughout the municipality. This isn’t about erasing a place that matters deeply to me. The lakes, villages, and people that make up Rideau Lakes are still here. What’s in question is whether the current council can still serve them effectively.
Pattern of dysfunction
The evidence of breakdown is clear.
At that Oct. 6 meeting, seven integrity commissioner reports were debated, resulting in three 90-day pay suspensions for the mayor (2) and one councillor. A reprimand for a second councillor had yet to be voted on when staff walked out after the second gallery outburst, citing workplace toxicity. The CAO declared the meeting over. Days later, the township issued a statement announcing that all in-person meetings were suspended until further notice.
In March 2025, council passed a vote of non-confidence against Hoogenboom. Eleven code of conduct complaints were discussed in one sitting. Then councillor Joan Delaney resigned after six and a half years, telling me the constant controversy was “very tiring.” The mayor said the division had scared away a recent hire and damaged morale. It was then he first suggested the province should vacate all council seats. He took a short reprieve from the municipal council table at that time, but remained active at county council.
Between 2024 and 2025, the township cycled through three integrity commissioners in 12 months. There have been 24 integrity commissioner investigations (17 listed on the website and another seven from the Oct. 6 meeting) during this term of council.
The pattern is unmistakable. The breakdown isn’t about policy differences anymore. This council that has lost the capacity to work together.
Scale and strain
Rideau Lakes covers 711 square kilometres, larger than the City of Toronto, yet has a population of just 10,000. The township’s four-ward system was meant to ensure local representation but has instead magnified regional divides. Each ward brings its own priorities and political style, often at odds with the others.
Hoogenboom tried to fix this. He proposed reducing council from eight ward-based seats to four elected at large, plus an at-large mayor and deputy mayor. Currently, each of the eight councillors serves a six-month rotation as deputy mayor.
Council rejected the proposal.
That’s the catch 22: a council that no longer trusts itself can’t repair itself. The very divisions that make reform necessary also block it.
When a mayor asks the province to intervene, what he is really saying is that someone else needs to restore order. But even new councillors would face the same challenge of balancing competing needs across a vast municipality.
What dissolution could look like
If the dysfunction can’t be fixed from within, could the province go further?
A full dissolution could eliminate duplicated administration, council costs and office overhead while maintaining essential services. Core functions such as roads, waste collection and fire protection would continue under neighbouring municipalities that already operate these systems efficiently. Emergency and policing services are managed through county and provincial agreements.
The township’s infrastructure and reserves wouldn’t vanish. Assets and debts would be divided proportionally between absorbing municipalities, as has been done elsewhere in Ontario.
Many residents already depend on Smiths Falls for health care, recreation and employment. Others travel to Brockville or Kingston for hospital care and government services. Some communities naturally align with Westport and the Thousand Islands region, sharing tourism corridors, canal infrastructure and business networks.
In practice, dissolution would formalize what already exists.
It would sting. For many residents, even discussing dissolution feels like betrayal. But identity outlives governance. People still identify as living in Goulbourn, Osgoode or Nepean long after those municipalities were absorbed into Ottawa.
The province has long had the authority to dissolve or restructure municipalities through ministerial order. That power was used extensively during the major amalgamations from 1998 to 2001, when dozens of towns and townships were merged into larger municipalities. Ontario has done this before.
The human cost
When staff invoke safety laws, when meetings collapse, and when the mayor himself asks the province to vacate all seats, who would want a councillor role and inherit the chaos? Table, and online debates are polarized to the point of intimidation. The loudest voices often drown out the reasonable ones.
It is no surprise that many good people choose silence over service. When that happens, democracy corrodes from within.
The choices ahead
The province now faces a decision. It could grant the mayor’s request and call a new election for Rideau Lakes. It could appoint an administrator to stabilize operations. It could commission a focused governance review with binding recommendations. Or it could go further and dissolve the township altogether.
Whatever it decides, residents deserve to understand the full range of possibilities, even the uncomfortable ones.
Could the township recover with new elections alone. Possibly. But repeated integrity complaints, walkouts, safety concerns and a plea for provincial intervention point to problems that elections alone may not solve. When your own mayor asks the province to blow up council, nothing should be unthinkable anymore.
Transition to a new model would not be easy. Aligning bylaws, payrolls and service boundaries takes time. Short term disruption may still be preferable to permanent dysfunction.
The goal isn’t to tear down Rideau Lakes, but to ask whether the government that bears its name still serves its people.
For more viewpoints like this, see our Opinion pieces.
