Point of Inquiry//

Point of Inquiry: Lawyers at AMS Council are never a good sign

The Executive Performance & Accountability Committee is done, for now. Its replacement needs to be more transparent.

Quyen Schroeder (they/she) writes Point of Inquiry, a column covering student politics and the AMS. They are a fourth-year student studying English and Computer Science. Her email is q.schroeder@ubyssey.ca.

At the start of the year, I wrote a now-infamous line: “The toxic culture of years prior has been excised from our union.” I was wrong.

The most public evidence of this is the conflicting accounts about the VP student life position given to The Ubyssey by AMS president Riley Huntley and an unnamed executive. (The executive spoke to The Ubyssey’s news team on background because they weren’t authorized to speak on the matter.)

Less publicly, we’ve seen a multi-week absence from Huntley. His temporary departure was preceded by a private, in camera meeting of the Executive Performance and Accountability (EPA) Committee on Jan. 24.

Four days later, there was a council meeting with certifiably rancid vibes. It started with both VP Administration Dylan Evans and VP Student Life Kevin Heieis asking to move to in camera. Heieis said there were “some things we should have some discussions about.” When the public session resumed, Heieis was nowhere to be seen. He wouldn’t return for another half hour.

Huntley’s return to the role of president was likewise succeeded by a four-hour in camera EPA meeting on March 4.

When the EPA rears its ugly head, we know shit is going down. Just one issue: the EPA typically conducts its business in private, in camera sessions. So we know that shit is going down, but what shit is going down is confidential.

A year and a half ago, then-VP Academic and University Affairs Drédyn Fontana was removed from office, following a report by the EPA committee. We didn’t know why he was removed or what he’d done wrong: only that he had been investigated for “poor performance” and “misrepresentation to AMS council.”

It didn’t come out exactly why he had been removed — that is, what the “poor performance” and “misrepresentation to AMS council” was — until The Ubyssey’s news team published an investigation into his removal. The story referenced a leaked document: the EPA’s investigation into Fontana.

This secrecy is among the EPA’s problems, but the EPA process has also failed executives, some of whom have said the process caused stress and became a tool of retaliation.

Fontana alleged that his review by the EPA committee and subsequent removal was retaliation for concerns he had raised about then-President Christian Kyle. Fontana also raised concerns that “making things confidential” through in camera sessions “threatens silence,” citing worries about litigation for violating the council’s Code of Procedure. The same year, VP External Ayesha Irfan said executives “don’t feel safe coming to EPA.” I’ve seen councillors storm out of in camera sessions in tears. Multiple times.

During the past couple months of watching the AMS executives turn against each other and sitting for hours outside closed-door meetings, I’ve realized that we’ve seen this play before. But this time, it’s being played a lot closer to the chest. There haven’t been any explosive public outbursts or 10:03 p.m. emails. But something is deeply amiss in the culture of the AMS. I wouldn’t be surprised if it rhymed with last year’s toxicity, animosity towards EPA and retaliatory investigations.

During the March 4 special council meeting, council remained in camera for four hours. Almost nothing was in the public session, and its attendance had curious absences and even more curious guests. Neither of the AMS president-hopefuls — Governor Jasper Lorien or VP Administration Dylan Evans — were present. Nor was VP External Solomon Yi-Kieran, who was downstairs moderating the Clash of Clubs debate. At least one executive attended with a lawyer — one of their firm’s specialties is employment law.

What went down during those four hours of council isn’t public.

What we do know is there was a rotating cast of executives permitted into the room. What we do know is that council resumed its public session shortly before midnight. What we do know is that the only executives there at the end were AMS President Riley Huntley and VP Finance Gagan Parmar. What we do know is that Speaker of Council Josh Bradbury was speaking in his capacity as the chair of the EPA committee; Councilor Bryan Buraga chaired the meeting instead.

And we know that council approved a motion to pause the EPA process. No more in camera feedback sessions through the end of the year. Instead, the EPA committee would be investigating themselves to determine the future of AMS accountability.

Things have not always been thus. There was a time before the EPA. For nearly a decade — from 2007 to 2016 — the AMS had an Oversight Committee tasked with, well, overseeing the executives. To encourage executives to perform, a carrot was dangled in front of them, taking the form of a $5,000 Performance Accountability Incentive. Throughout the year, executives would be followed by a stick: the threat of decreasing their end-of-year incentive payout. When the EPA was formed, then-President Eshana Bhanghu thought the Oversight Committee’s bonus system was “extremely toxic,” causing the committee to be “too political.” I’m sure the financial manipulation caused plenty of conflict, but EPA certainly hasn’t been beating the “extremely toxic” allegations, despite having no monetary sticks to punish executives with.

During its final year, the Oversight Committee put a focus on “the well-being of the executive.” This year, one of the EPA’s goals was increasing the focus on “supporting executives” rather than just accountability.

Once the Oversight Committee was dissolved in 2016, council as a whole was responsible for overseeing executives — bringing censures for poor behaviour. This process was criticized because council struggled to reach a consensus on feedback. Rather than having one manager, executives had forty — each pushing and pulling in a different direction.

In 2020, following a controversy around an executive’s conflict of interest, the AMS formed the Ethics and Accountability Committee. They spent four months creating an investigation into that executive — which was subsequently made public. Otherwise, they did little before being succeeded by the EPA.

The death of EPA has been a long time coming. At the start of this year, I erroneously thought a better president would excise toxicity from our union. I was wrong. EPA needed to be killed — and something more fruitful must rise in its place. We should not be hasty in assuming a newer, better EPA will solve every cultural issue within the AMS. After all, the EPA is only the latest in a long line of failed accountability measures. Our union’s culture is the product of both structures and individuals: “fixing” EPA wouldn’t necessarily fix the culture of the AMS so long as power-hungry opportunists are still running the show.

At EPA’s funeral earlier this month, a couple councillors spoke on issues with the current process. Councillor Ash Dennis said the EPA’s structure was “leading to a lot more issues.” Councillor Humleen Samra said it was important that students — not just council — are able to “hear and partake” in discussions about the progress of executive goals. She also hoped that the EPA’s replacement might produce a “more engaged council” rather than relegating accountability just to the EPA Committee.

Fixing the structure of the EPA is just one part of returning our union to a less vile, toxic culture. The future is uncertain, and I expect many of the current failures of the EPA are kept closely guarded under the mandate of confidentiality. But going forward, secrecy should be rare. While executives are employees of the AMS, they are also elected by and accountable to students. So goes the once-great newspaper’s motto: “Democracy dies in darkness.”

Hours of in camera EPA sessions should be extraordinary, not extraordinarily ordinary. Not every discussion will be appropriate to have publicly, but especially discussions of the progress of executive goals should be public. When there are concerns about performance — like an executive’s failure to meet their campaign promises — voters deserve to know.

When an executive is removed, we should know why. Certainly, there are some human resources concerns with enumerating the reasons an employee is terminated to 60,000 students. But removing an elected official without consulting students, without providing explanation and without sharing who voted for their removal undermines student participation in their own union. We deserve for our representatives not to be eliminated without explanation. I fear Fontana’s removal last year breached Pandora’s box, setting up the nuclear option as the norm.

Right now, expectations of confidentiality keep all of this strictly within council. Neither I nor my colleagues in the news section of The Ubyssey can report what we don’t know. Do with that what you will.

The turmoil and infighting and secrecy of the AMS does nothing to serve students. It is a distraction that draws attention away from what matters. That’s not to say that nothing meaningful has happened amid the chaos. But time and money spent on internal investigations and legal advice and fighting wrongful dismissal cases in court … don’t actually help students in any material way.

Every time we’ve reviewed our accountability policy, we’ve sought to address issues of toxicity and reduce conflicts of interest. Is this an impossible goal? I don’t think so. But it seems that the EPA fell into the same cycles as the accountability solutions that came before.

When The Ubyssey reported on the EPA’s creation, it included a statement from then-President Bhangu. “We’re definitely not repeating mistakes from the past,” it started. “I’m very confident that this executive performance and accountability committee will be effective and be different.”

That aged like milk.

I have no doubt that whatever comes next will have its own problems. But let’s make them different from the ones that came before.

This is an opinion essay, and a part of a regular column. It reflects the columnist’s views and may not reflect the views of The Ubyssey as a whole. Contribute to the conversation by visiting http://ubyssey.ca/pages/submit-an-opinion/.

Quyen Schroeder (they/she) is a fourth-year student studying English language and computer science, and they’ve been a committed observer of almost all AMS Council meetings since February 2023. She also ran as “Barry ‘Bee’ Buzzword” in the 2025 AMS Presidential election. They can be reached at q.schroeder@ubyssey.ca.