My Choice for Mayor

Do I Have a Choice for Mayor?

Of course I do. But if I am being candid, what I have right now is less a firm choice and more a leaning. My decision is far from made.

In fact, I am watching the Before the Ballot – Questions for Hamilton's Next Mayor series very closely.

I am not a critic of Mayor Horwath, nor am I an enthusiastic supporter. The truth is that I remain largely indifferent at this stage. I am keeping an open mind and waiting to be persuaded.

What am I looking for?

Two things.

First, vision.

Second, a credible understanding of how to transform that vision into reality.

It is easy to look at Hamilton today and focus on its problems. Indeed, that is necessary. Any serious candidate must be prepared to confront the issues facing our city. But leadership requires more than identifying what is wrong. It requires the ability to rise above the immediate challenges, imagine what Hamilton could become, and inspire others to move toward that future.

The vision itself must be the right one for Hamilton. It must be practical, ambitious, and grounded in the realities of our city. History has repeatedly shown that visionary leadership accomplishes far more than simply managing the status quo.

Hamilton does not need more of the same. It needs ideas, direction, and the courage to pursue them.

For now, I remain open-minded.

Let's see what happens next.

What is The Hamiltonian After Dark, and How is it Different from The Hamiltonian?

The Hamiltonian is our public square.

It is where we cover Hamilton's politics, civic affairs, community issues, and the stories that shape our city. It is intended to inform, challenge, question, and occasionally provoke. It is where we do our journalism.

The Hamiltonian After Dark is something else entirely.

Imagine pulling up a chair at the end of a long day. The coffee is still hot. The lights are low. The city is quieter than usual. The conversation drifts from politics to life, from headlines to the things that really matter.

You know the kind of discussion. The ones that happen late at night when the world slows down just enough for people to let their guard down. The conversations that wander into unexpected places. The ones that are thoughtful, honest, occasionally uncomfortable, and often surprisingly meaningful.

That is The Hamiltonian After Dark.

It is less about reporting and more about reflecting, insights and thoughts. .

It won't be heavily promoted. In fact, many people may discover it only by accident. That's perfectly fine.

There are no passwords. No secret handshakes. No exclusive guest list.

Just a chair with your name on it.

Everyone is welcome.

So if you happen to find yourself wandering through the digital night and see the light on, come in.

The conversation is just getting started- after dark. 

Probably a good idea to read this (click here). 

Nine grass cuts versus twelve. Potholes. Long grass- Short Sightedness

Nine grass cuts versus twelve. Potholes. Long grass.

I am not suggesting these issues are unimportant. They matter to residents and they deserve attention.

What is concerning is that so much political discussion seems focused on relatively minor operational issues while far more significant matters receive comparatively little scrutiny.

In round numbers, Hamilton taxpayers spend approximately $2 million annually on the remuneration of the Mayor and the fifteen members of City Council.

According to the Ontario Sunshine List, Hamilton City Manager Marnie Cluckie received compensation of $318,852.77 in 2025.

Yet, despite the magnitude of the responsibilities associated with the position, the City Manager does not operate under a formal public performance contract with clearly defined, measurable deliverables.

I am not referring to general expectations, understandings, or management principles. I am referring to a formal performance contract containing specific objectives, measurable outcomes, reporting requirements, and consequences for failure to achieve them.

Consider, for example, a performance contract containing an Information Technology and Cybersecurity component. Such a contract might include deliverables such as:

• Maintaining mission-critical systems at a minimum 99.9% annual availability rate, excluding scheduled maintenance.
• Ensuring all mission-critical systems have tested disaster recovery capabilities with defined recovery objectives.
• Maintaining compliance with recognized cybersecurity standards through independent annual audits.
• Conducting annual penetration testing and remediating critical vulnerabilities within established timelines.
• Restoring critical municipal services within defined recovery periods following any cyber incident.

Now consider Hamilton's devastating cyberattack.

The attack resulted in extensive service disruptions, significant operational challenges, and millions of dollars in costs to taxpayers. The City's insurer reportedly declined coverage after determining that required security measures had not been adequately maintained.

Had measurable cybersecurity deliverables existed, they would have demanded attention long before the attack occurred. More importantly, failure to achieve those objectives would have carried consequences, potentially including termination.

Instead, the city issued apologies, services were eventually restored, and life moved on.

Taxpayers, however, paid a substantial price.

This raises a legitimate question for both elected officials and those seeking office.

Should Hamilton's City Manager be subject to a formal public performance contract containing measurable objectives, regular public reporting, and meaningful accountability mechanisms?

If taxpayers are paying more than $318,000 annually for the City's most senior administrative position, that does not seem like an unreasonable expectation.

Things That Candidate's Say and Do That They Probably Shouldn't

You may have guessed by now that The Hamiltonian's Before the Ballot – The Candidate's Guide has a deliberate purpose behind it.

I recognize that incumbents enjoy a significant advantage over first-time candidates. 

That imbalance has never sat particularly well with me, nor had it with Teresa. 

The Candidate's Guide is a small attempt to help level the playing field. If you are running for office for the first time, I genuinely believe it may become one of the most valuable resources you encounter during your campaign.

But let's leave the formal tips and advice to the series itself.

Instead, allow me to share a few observations from behind the curtain. These are things people tell us, submit to us, or do during campaigns that often reveal more than they realize.

In no particular order...

"I am not a politician. I'm just an ordinary person."

I hear this all the time.

Now, I am not suggesting that statement is right or wrong. In fact, voters often appreciate authenticity. But there is a subtle risk hidden within that message.

The people who win elections are rarely "just ordinary people." They are people who learn how campaigns work. They build support networks. They develop effective materials. They knock on doors. They organize volunteers. They communicate a clear message. In short, they do the work required to run a serious campaign.

Sometimes, declaring that you are "not a politician" can unintentionally signal that you are not prepared to compete. If that message is part of your campaign, weave it carefully into a larger narrative about competence, preparation, and leadership.

Another observation.

Some candidates submit materials containing spelling mistakes, grammatical errors, blurry photographs, outdated information, or other issues that could have been easily corrected before publication.

Occasionally, they ask us to fix everything for them. We don’t do that. 

Sometimes, they discover after publication that information they provided was inaccurate and ask us to quietly edit the original article.

We do not do that.

If a correction is warranted, we will happily publish a linked correction. However, we do not rewrite history by altering the original submission.

When candidates repeatedly make these types of mistakes, it raises a simple question: if you cannot carefully manage your own campaign materials, how will voters feel about trusting you with public responsibilities?

Even email addresses tell a story.

As a candidate, you can choose almost any email address you wish. Choose one that sounds professional, credible, and appropriate for someone seeking public office.

In your election materials, resist the temptation to stretch the truth. Half-truths, omissions, exaggerations, and carefully crafted impressions may seem harmless in the short term. They are not.

Public office is built on trust. If voters discover that you have been less than forthcoming before you are elected, why should they trust you after you are elected?

Lastly, be careful not to fall into the social media trap.

It could very well be that your latest media release, interview, video, or Facebook post is generating plenty of attention. Perhaps the comments are rolling in, the shares are climbing, and the numbers look impressive. It may even feel like your campaign is on fire.

That's wonderful.

But don't confuse attention with votes.

One of the greatest dangers in modern campaigning is developing a false sense of security from social media engagement. Likes are not votes. Shares are not votes. Comments are not votes.

Social media can be a powerful tool. It can amplify a message. It can create momentum. It can help introduce you to voters.

But elections are not won from behind a keyboard.

They are won on doorsteps, at community events, over coffee, through phone calls, and by earning the confidence of real people, one conversation at a time.

Enough musings for now.

Until next time.

Cal