City manager has some parting advice for council
Retiring Johnston lauds council's work ethic, but urges a better focus on what's important
Sadhu Johnston couldn't have a farewell party.
Instead, departing his job in the time of COVID-19 meant a series of video-conference calls last week with different City of Vancouver departments, he said, a chance “to remember things we worked on together, and some of the successes and failures.”
Johnston also asked everyone for book recommendations, because he should soon have a lot more time on his hands.
After 11 years working for the city government, including five in its top job, Jan. 4 will be his final day.
City manager is a demanding job, akin to a chief administrative officer, overseeing an organization with a $1.6-billion operating budget and more than 7,000 employees. Johnston called it his “dream job.”
Johnston came to the City of Vancouver in 2009 as deputy city manager. Then-mayor Gregor Robertson and Vision Vancouver had recently taken office for the first of three terms of council majorities, elected on a platform of making the city “the greenest on earth.” Johnston seemed a natural fit, recruited from Chicago where he was Mayor Richard Daley's chief environmental officer.
Johnston, now 46, sat down last week with Postmedia for a wide-ranging interview about his years on the job and thoughts for the future.
Johnston is proud, he said, of the strides Vancouver made in the last decade in active transportation, climate response, and taking a more active role in creating social housing.
“But I recognize there are things that we haven't solved,” he said. “I really struggled with the Downtown Eastside, homelessness, poverty, mental health, and addictions — things that are outside of our direct mandate, but that are kind of worse than they ever have been.”
Johnston praised the work ethic of the 11-member group he called his “bosses” — the mayor and council — emphasizing they have been working hard through massive challenges, even before COVID-19 hit. But he did deliver some friendly parting advice, in an in camera exit interview, to council, who are now roughly halfway through their four-year term.
One clear difference between the three Vision-majority councils and Vancouver's current council — the first in a generation where no party has a majority — is the sheer volume of motions. A CBC analysis showed Vancouver's new council introduced 51 motions in its first five months, a 180 per cent increase over the previous council's pace.
Many of these motions direct staff to undertake significant projects on top of existing workloads, and Johnston and other senior staff have repeatedly raised the issue at council meetings of overburdening staff.
“That's been a struggle,” Johnston said last week. “A constant conversation I've had with council is: if we're going to do new work, we either need to get rid of old work or resource it properly so we don't burn our staff out.”
Johnston said he's actually suggested implementing a limit on the number of motions each councillor can introduce.
“Councillors, they get their name out there by putting in motions, so there's an incentive to crank more out,” Johnston said.
Meanwhile, he said, when other councillors “recognize we've got workflow challenges” and therefore don't introduce as many motions, they're “kind of penalized, because they don't get their name out there.”
But if there were a rule, for example, limiting each councillor to one motion a month, then they would have to prioritize, he said, “and you don't have the situation where someone's doing 10, and someone's doing none, and you're kind of being penalized for recognizing that we can't take on more work.”
There's also been a marked increase in the length of council meetings this term, including lengthy debates about arcane, seemingly trivial matters.
Some, including current council members, have commented publicly about council earning a reputation for sometimes spending a lot of time to get little accomplished.
Noting that councillors sometimes spend hours on the council floor “going down a rabbit hole” and debating “small amendments that are not that important,” Johnston said, he has “encouraged them to be strategic about the amendments.”
“I do think they are putting the time in and they're getting stuff done,” Johnston said. “But they're going to burn themselves out, though, as well, if they're not strategic about what they spend their time on.”
Johnston has also been rising to his feet more frequently during this term's council meetings, compared with previous terms, interjecting to advise council when, for example, someone wants to propose an amendment that might be illegal or otherwise ill-advised.
“It's interesting in this role, I have to tell my bosses all the time that I don't recommend that they do what they're proposing to do,” he said. “It's a pretty uncomfortable position. You've seen me tap-dancing on the floor of council. ... And they don't always listen to me, but they always hear me.”
Johnston's salary last year was $362,000, placing him among B.C.'s best-paid municipal government employees. He's leaving the job on his own terms, he says, without severance pay. In contrast, Johnston's predecessor Penny Ballem received more than $550,000 in severance when she was fired in 2015.
Johnston's not sure what he'll do next professionally, but said spending more time with family is the first priority now.
Johnston lives most of the time in Strathcona, while his daughters, now 14 and 10, and his wife live more than 250 kilometres north up the coast, on Cortes Island. Johnston regularly travels back there, but that trip — which usually includes some combination of float planes, multiple ferries, hitchhiking, driving and busing — is a schlep, often taking eight hours or more each way.
“I just realized I need to spend some time with my kids before it's too late,” he said.
“To see your kids for two weekends a month is not a lot. ... I don't want to have my daughter going off to university and, and feel like I missed the chance to be around.”
At Johnston's final council meeting, held online earlier this month, there were a few emotional goodbyes.
Council's most senior member, Green Coun. Adriane Carr, teared up as she predicted that future generations will look back and appreciate the city's big moves under Johnston's leadership on defining issues like the climate.
When Johnston addressed council, he thanked them “for putting up with my bad jokes at inopportune times.”
“I was trying to bring a sense of lightness to chambers at times,” he said.
“Usually they would fall flat, but at least you knew I was trying.”