Water Is Not a Commodity

Across the industrial world there has been a long and sometimes quiet struggle over the ownership of essential infrastructure. Electricity grids, railways, telecommunications networks, and pipelines have all passed through cycles of public construction and private acquisition. Yet among these, water occupies a fundamentally different category. It is not merely an economic input or a commercial service. It is a precondition for life, public health, and social stability. When a society debates the governance of water systems, it is not arguing about a typical utility. It is debating the stewardship of a shared biological necessity.

Ontario now finds itself at the edge of such a debate.

Recent legislative changes, most notably those contained within Bill 60 – Fighting Delays, Building Faster Act, 2025, create new mechanisms through which municipal water and wastewater systems may be transferred into corporate governance structures. The government’s stated intention is administrative efficiency and infrastructure financing. Ontario’s rapidly growing population requires substantial investment in water infrastructure, and municipalities are under increasing fiscal pressure to expand treatment capacity, pipelines, and pumping stations. From a narrow administrative perspective, the argument is straightforward. Corporate utilities can borrow capital more flexibly and operate with financial tools unavailable to traditional municipal departments.

But efficiency arguments alone cannot settle the deeper question.

Public utilities exist because certain services are too fundamental to leave entirely to the logic of markets. Water systems in Canada were built during the twentieth century precisely because the private delivery of drinking water had repeatedly proven unreliable, inequitable, and sometimes dangerous. Municipal ownership was not an ideological experiment. It was the result of a century of public-health lessons learned through epidemics, contamination events, and uneven private provision.

Ontario’s own history contains one of the most sobering reminders of that truth. The tragedy of Walkerton Water Crisis demonstrated with painful clarity that water governance demands uncompromising accountability. The response in the years that followed was not to dilute public oversight but to strengthen it. Ontario built one of the most rigorous drinking water regulatory regimes in the world, premised on the principle that safe water is a public responsibility.

That principle deserves careful protection.

The concern raised by critics of the new legislative framework is not that privatization will occur immediately. Rather, the concern lies in the structural pathway that corporatization creates. When water utilities are moved out of direct municipal governance and into corporate entities, the nature of decision-making changes. Boards replace councils. Rate structures become financial instruments. Infrastructure planning is evaluated increasingly through the lens of return on investment rather than the broader calculus of community welfare.

None of these shifts automatically produce privatization. Yet they move the system closer to the institutional architecture within which privatization becomes possible.

The international experience provides numerous examples of this progression. In several jurisdictions, the path toward private water delivery began not with outright sales of infrastructure but with the creation of corporate utilities, public-private partnerships, and long-term concession agreements. Over time, financial pressures and political incentives often pushed these arrangements further toward private control. Once essential infrastructure is embedded within corporate governance frameworks, the distinction between public service and commercial utility can gradually blur.

The risk is not merely ideological. It is practical.

Water systems require long-term investment horizons measured in decades. Pipes laid beneath city streets may remain in service for half a century. Treatment plants operate for generations. Public ownership aligns naturally with these timelines because governments exist to steward infrastructure across electoral cycles. Private entities, even well-regulated ones, operate under shorter financial expectations. Shareholder value and quarterly performance rarely align with the slow maintenance rhythms of buried municipal infrastructure.

There is also the matter of democratic legitimacy. Municipal water systems today are ultimately accountable to elected councils. Citizens can vote out the officials responsible for water policy. Rate increases, infrastructure investments, and service priorities are debated in public forums. Corporate governance, by contrast, places these decisions within boardrooms whose members are not directly accountable to voters.

Water policy should not be insulated from democratic oversight. It should be anchored within it.

None of this denies the real financial pressures facing municipalities. Ontario’s growing cities must build enormous quantities of new water infrastructure to support housing construction and economic expansion. Financing models will need to evolve. Innovative approaches to capital investment may be necessary. Yet innovation in financing should not be mistaken for a justification to weaken public ownership.

The core principle should remain simple and clear.

Water systems belong to the communities that depend on them. The reservoirs, aqueducts, pumping stations, and treatment plants that sustain modern cities were built with public resources over generations. They represent a shared civic inheritance. Their purpose is not to generate profit but to safeguard public health and ensure universal access to a basic human necessity.

Public utilities exist precisely because some services are too important to treat as commodities. Water is foremost among them.

Ontario’s policymakers would therefore be wise to proceed with caution. Legislative frameworks designed for administrative flexibility can sometimes produce unintended consequences decades later. Once governance structures shift, reversing course becomes difficult. Infrastructure systems have a way of locking in the institutional assumptions under which they were built.

The question facing the province is therefore larger than the technical design of utility corporations. It is about the kind of stewardship Ontarians expect for the most essential resource in their society.

A civilized state recognizes that certain responsibilities cannot be outsourced. Among them is the simple but profound duty to ensure that every citizen can turn on a tap and trust what flows from it.

Water, quite simply, should remain in the hands of the people.

Public Utilities in Public Hands: The Case Against Privatization in Ontario

The privatization of public utilities is one of the most serious threats to the well-being of Ontario’s citizens. Essential services such as electricity, natural gas, and potable water are not mere commodities; they are fundamental to public health, economic stability, and social equity. Yet, time and again, privatization has proven to be a short-sighted policy that prioritizes corporate profit over public interest, leading to rising costs, reduced accountability, and degraded service quality.

Ontario has already had a taste of these consequences. The partial privatization of Hydro One in 2015, sold as a way to fund infrastructure projects, stripped the public of full control over a critical utility. The result? Electricity rates surged while executive salaries ballooned, all while Ontarians faced an affordability crisis. Now, the same logic is being applied to water infrastructure, with growing interest in public-private partnerships (P3s) that risk putting a basic human right in the hands of profit-driven corporations.

The United Kingdom serves as a cautionary tale. Margaret Thatcher’s aggressive privatization agenda in the 1980s dismantled public control over water, gas, and electricity. Decades later, the consequences are glaringly evident—privatized water companies have failed to maintain infrastructure, leading to widespread sewage pollution in rivers and skyrocketing utility bills. In 2023, public outrage reached a boiling point as UK citizens demanded renationalization, fed up with a system that prioritized shareholder dividends over basic service quality.

Ontario does not need to look across the Atlantic to see privatization’s dangers. The sale of Highway 407 in the late 1990s remains one of the most infamous examples. Originally built with public funds, the highway was sold to a private consortium, which promptly implemented steep toll increases. Now, it is one of the most expensive toll roads in North America, generating billions in private profits while Ontario drivers pay the price.

Similarly, in the 1990s, Premier Mike Harris’s government moved to privatize parts of Ontario’s water services, leading to deregulation that contributed to the Walkerton tragedy in 2000. E. coli contamination in the town’s water supply led to seven deaths and thousands of illnesses. A key lesson from Walkerton was that water safety should never be compromised for cost-cutting measures—yet renewed interest in water privatization suggests that this lesson is being ignored.

Proponents of privatization often push P3s as a supposed middle ground, but the reality is that these arrangements often result in long-term financial burdens for taxpayers and reduced service quality. In Ontario, numerous P3 infrastructure projects, including hospitals and transit systems, have faced cost overruns, delays, and contract disputes that leave the public footing the bill. The Brampton Civic Hospital, one of Ontario’s earliest P3 healthcare projects, ended up costing nearly $200 million more than a traditional public model, demonstrating how these deals frequently benefit corporate interests at the public’s expense.

When it comes to water and electricity, the risks are even greater. Private firms operating under P3 models have strong incentives to minimize costs, which can lead to deferred maintenance, staff reductions, and lower service quality. Meanwhile, the public remains on the hook for any failures, as companies structure contracts to shield themselves from financial risk while reaping the profits.

Once essential services are privatized, reversing the decision becomes extremely difficult. Private companies, armed with deep lobbying power, fight fiercely to protect their revenue streams. In the case of Hydro One, the Ontario government now owns less than 50% of the company, making it virtually impossible to fully reassert public control without an expensive and politically complex buyback.

The simple truth is that profit should never be the primary driver in the management of public utilities. Roads, water, electricity, and natural gas are the backbone of a functioning society, and their operation must be based on public interest, environmental sustainability, and affordability—not corporate greed.

Ontario must resist further privatization and instead strengthen public ownership of essential services. This means investing in infrastructure, enforcing transparency, and ensuring that these utilities serve the people rather than the pockets of a few wealthy shareholders. The province has seen the consequences of privatization firsthand, and the path forward is clear: protect public utilities, prioritize public well-being, and reject the false promises of privatization before it’s too late.