OPINIONS
August 2, 2022
5
STILL OUR MONEY
The SFSS is spending too much running itself Running the SFSS has become a whole lot more expensive over the last decade
NE RCYA KALI N O // STAF F W RI TE R
When SFU released its 2021/22 budget plan, a plan that called for a 2% increase in domestic tuition and 4% increase in international tuition, the Simon Fraser Student Society (SFSS) objected. Their objection, in part, was based on their recognition of students’ “unprecedented financial hardship” during COVID-19. Unfortunately, it’s an objection that rings a bit hollow in light of how the SFSS spends our money. As of 2021, a third of the SFSS budget is devoted to running the SFSS. That’s a big change from previous years. The SFSS claims to be a student advocacy group. For students, by students. But because they draw the overwhelming majority of their funds from students’ bank accounts, we also need to closely examine their actions. Take the most recent year. In the SFSS’ final 2021/2022 operating budget statement, $3,070,662 out of the total $3,169,725 SFSS revenue came from students in the form of SFSS member fees. That’s 97% of the SFSS’ revenue. Every semester, full-time students pay $42.74 as part of their SFSS membership fee, and part-timers pay $21.38. So, where’s the money going? Despite some fancy infrastructure investments, the answer is largely disappointing. What’s of concern are the ballooning administrative costs associated with the Society’s activities. In 2012, the SFSS’ administrative costs totaled $479,389. Those costs were
Students are paying a whole lot for a bureaucracy. mostly associated with administration, financial office, general office, and “Build SFU office.” That’s fine. The SFSS is a big organization. It needs upkeep, supplies to run, and, of course, to pay its workers. But let’s flash forward to 2021, the latest year for which figures are available. In 2021, those same line items now total $1,567,090. That’s over three times as costly as in 2012. “Administration and financial office” have more than quadrupled, from $193,711 in 2012 to $777,894 in 2021. “General office” and “Build SFU office” expenses have more than doubled. The overwhelming majority of those funds are coming from student fees. We’re funding this explosion in SFSS operations. That’s plenty of strain on a student body that, by the SFSS’ own admission, has been experiencing “unprecedented financial hardship.” Why has running the SFSS become so much more expensive over the course of the decade? The rate of inflation hasn’t doubled, let alone quadrupled to match the expenditures above. We deserve answers. Whether it’s the previous Executive Committee or the current one, the SFSS has become an increasingly controversial organization. From the confusing closure of the Student Union Building (SUB) to leaks to the dismissal of members over said leaks to the recent resignation
PHOTO: Fabian Blank / Unsplash of multiple councillors, the group has been placed under more scrutiny than ever. On budgets, they deserve even more scrutiny. There are, admittedly, some big shiny benefits we’ve gotten for our money. The annual build levy, approved in 2012, currently demands full-time students pay up $90 and part-time students pay $45. We’ve seen those dollars go to some cool projects. $10 million from the levy paid for the new Burnaby Campus stadium. The same fund went towards the construction of the SUB, which, of course, was then denied to us at the height of the pandemic. The 2023 financial budget consultation listed COVID-19 mental health as one of the recommendations. It explains this objective should “provide expanded accessibility and health services including dedicated funding.” That’s all well and good. But it doesn’t answer why we’re paying the SFSS to devote such a substantial (and increasing) portion of its budget to running itself. That the SFSS publishes its financial statements for everyone to see is fantastic. That it sometimes shells out for big, shiny infrastructure projects is nice. And that it has committed itself to a living wage for its employees is great, too! But what we need are explanations as to why the SFSS has become three times as costly to run over less than a decade.
TREADING WATER
Canadians need Universal Basic Income (UBI) UBI can help Canadians struggling with financial insecurity amid rising prices
B HAVAN A KAUSHI K // SF U STUD E NT
In a world with skyrocketing housing prices, wages that don’t reflect productivity, and rampant worker dissatisfaction, we need a way to bridge the gap between wages and the real cost of living. Universal Basic Income (UBI), a program that provides citizens with regular income to help them meet their needs, fits the bill. In Canada, a UBI program could enhance the happiness, productivity, health, and overall financial well-being of citizens. After a pandemic that devastated our pocketbooks and amid rising prices, it’s time for Canadians to seriously consider UBI. Before the pandemic hit, the Financial Consumer Agency of Canada conducted a survey to measure the financial well-being of 1,953 Canadians. Only 33% of respondents felt financially secure while 41% felt somewhat secure, 19% were struggling somewhat and 7% were struggling a lot. Thanks to COVID-19, inflation, and global supply chain shocks, Canadians are likely feeling even more financial pressure. UBI will reduce that pressure so Canadians can feel financially secure. On the benefits of UBI, we can move beyond speculation. A Finnish UBI study that compared recipients of UBI to a control group without the regular income supplement found that UBI recipients came away from the program with more favourable perceptions of their household’s financial well-being. As a result, seemingly unrelated aspects of their lives improved. Respondents felt they’d “experienced less mental strain, depression, sadness, and loneliness” over the course of the program. The UBI group also expressed better perceptions of their cognitive abilities, including “memory, learning, and ability to concentrate.” Without
UBI is a bridge to happier, healthier living. financial disaster around every corner, Finnish UBI recipients were able to enjoy improved mental health. Despite UBI being supported by a shocking 75% of Canadians, as of 2019, some doubts persist. One persistent myth is the idea that, with UBI, no one will want to work. Some believe a steady stream of income will produce a population with no inclination to work. They couldn’t be further from the truth. That same Finnish study, and others like it, found that recipients of a regular income supplement weren’t just hanging around. Because of a newfound feeling of autonomy associated with less worry about their finances, recipients were more likely to engage in “voluntary work or informal care.” They didn’t withdraw; they engaged.
ILU STRATION: Angela Shen / The Peak Engagement extends beyond informal work, too. A study on the effects of a UBI pilot program in Ontario found that receiving unconditional payments improved the participants’ well-being and boosted their likelihood of landing jobs. Not only did they keep working, but they also gained the confidence and financial security to seek out better jobs. We can argue about how much to offer Canadians on a regular basis. We can argue about how often to dole our payments. But what we can’t argue about anymore is whether our current system of labour and pay is working for Canadians. UBI offers a potential bridge from our current state of toiling away for insufficient pay to a healthier, wealthier, and happier future for every Canadian.
