Trying before it's too late to save city's biodiversity
The legal battle to save the Technoparc wetlands was quietly lost on March 1.
The Quebec Superior Court ruled against efforts by the Green Coalition to stop further development in an oasis for over 200 species of endangered and migratory birds improbably tucked away in an industrial park in St-laurent.
Wedged in the midst of airport runways, highways, parking lots, manufacturing facilities and above a new tunnel being dug for the Réseau express métropolitain, the Technoparc wetlands are a testament to nature's resilience. But they are threatened by plans involving the City of Montreal to attract new investment to a so-called “eco-campus,” where parts of this sensitive habitat would be preserved, though left badly fragmented.
The Green Coalition will not to contest the court's decision. But the fight to save a pocket of biodiversity almost the size of Mount Royal is far from over, said David Fletcher, the conservation group's vice-president, vowing to up the pressure in the political arena during this year's municipal election campaign.
“We're not going to appeal, but the question of accepting the judgement is a whole other matter,” Fletcher said.
During a year in which a pandemic has overshadowed the cataclysmic perils of climate change and biodiversity loss, nature has been a balm on our collective trauma. Crowded parks have become refuges for the confined, and undisturbed lands a critical bulwark against further contagion. Yet they have never been so at risk of imminent destruction.
As governments and companies seek to relaunch a Covid19-ravaged economy, more urbanites flee to greener pastures, and real estate values soar, our precious remaining natural spaces are under increased pressure of development. And it's not just in the concrete jungle of Montreal.
Struggles like the one to save the Technoparc wetlands are playing out in cities, towns and communities across the greater Montreal region.
In Pointe-claire, residents are mobilizing to protect the Fairview forest, a 20-hectare wooded area, from plans by Cadillac Fairview to construct a “downtown for the West Island” around the Fairview Mall. Activists have been protesting every week for months now, saying that such density would ruin the character of their community and pave over the last remaining woodland in the northern part of the suburb.
In Notre-dame-de-grâce, environmentalists have been pushing to preserve wildlife habitat along the Falaise St-jacques during the Turcot Interchange construction work. They finally secured the creation of a linear park with a bike path. But Lisa Mintz, a spokesperson for Sauvons la Falaise, said a vital, 10-hectare wetland at the foot of the escarpment that the Transport Ministry was ordered to restore has been turned into an ordinary ditch.
In Ste-julie, citizens are gathering signatures on a petition to stop the imminent razing of the flank of Mont St-bruno for a luxury housing project.
In Hudson, community members are rallying to save Sandy Beach from a deal that would see the construction of more than 200 housing units on 30 per cent of the pristine wetland while conserving about 70 per cent for public use. Activists argue backfill in part of the wetland along with increased human and vehicle traffic will encroach on the sensitive ecosystem. Local groups are urging the mayor and town council to apply for various grants in order to buy the privately held land outright from the developer. But officials seem unwilling to embark.
These are but a handful of examples of local citizens battling hard in their own corners against many of the same challenges. Some of these common hurdles were outlined during a virtual panel discussion last week organized by the Legacy Fund for the Environment and Sustainable Youth Canada.
Surveys have shown Canadians are woefully complacent about the loss of green space and biodiversity in their communities, said Devon Page, director of Ecojustice Canada, who was one of the speakers. They have a misconception that “just north of here” untouched nature is thriving, when this is hardly the case.
The phenomenon might be even worse in suburban and rural areas where trees and nature are taken for granted.
“People see a few trees outside and think everything's OK. They need a good shake. We need to shake people up,” said Alison Hackney, from the Legacy Fund for the Environment, which helps small community groups or municipalities finance legal action to preserve nature.
Former Westmount Mayor Peter Trent, another of the panellists, took aim at the myth that development is necessary to increase the property tax base in most municipalities.
“Bedroom communities at best break even from additional residential property tax revenue that comes from developing green space and at worse discover it's a loss from the increased demand for services,” he said.
Municipalities that authorize building on green fields for this motive should have to prove the windfall to public coffers up front, Trent said. Fear of lawsuits cows some municipal officials into paralysis when developments are proposed, he added, while others are reluctant to use the tools at their disposal, like permits, zoning laws and building codes.
So much of the unspoiled remaining land in the Montreal region is in private hands, held in service of financial interests. But it's time to realize that nature has intrinsic value to society as a whole and should be treated as a common good — even small, disconnected parcels that don't look like much.
The U.K. Treasury in February released a landmark report warning that biodiversity is declining faster than at any time in history, to the point that it will affect our current and future prosperity. So economic and ecological imperatives may increasingly become entwined anyhow.
Part of Canada's solution to the environmental crisis is planting billions of trees. Meanwhile we still mow down mature forests and woods to build houses.
Earth Day on Thursday shouldn't be the time we consider this conundrum. But it is a time to reflect on the collective wealth that exists in our shared biodiversity before it's going, going, gone.
“Once it's lost, once the choice is made, it's irrevocable,” said Fletcher. “You can't get it back.”