Building A Culture Of Control

Building A Culture Of Control As a Pickering City Councillor and the only elected official in Durham Region to attend the Durham Regional Police Service (DRPS) Drone as First Responder (DFR) Pilot Project community information night on Thursday, February 26, 2026, at the Education and Training Centre in Whitby, I witnessed firsthand the presentation of this program—already live and operational across our region. No other municipal or regional representative was present, underscoring my ongoing commitment not only to the residents of Pickering but to the broader Durham Region. Unlike my counterparts, I serve without compensation, driven purely by a dedication to transparency, accountability, and protecting the freedoms of those I represent. Durham Regional Police have launched one of Canada's first Drone as First Responder programs, with police-grade drones—manufactured by the American company Skydio—which will be docked strategically across the region. These are not recreational toys; they are advanced systems capable of launching and hovering over an incident scene in approximately 60 seconds—long before ground officers arrive. A drone could be filming your street, recording video, and transmitting live feeds at police discretion. I must commend our Durham Regional Police Service—they are among the finest in the country, dedicated professionals who put their lives on the line daily to keep our communities safe. Their innovation in emergency response is admirable, but this program represents a slippery slope. Once we cross the line into expanded surveillance without ironclad safeguards, it's hard to turn back. History shows that tools introduced for "emergencies" often expand in scope, eroding privacy inch by inch. Officials describe the program as a tool for emergencies and "operational incidents"—a term so vague and broad that deployment ultimately rests on police judgment. This raises serious questions: What if Quebec-style curfews returned, as we saw during COVID lockdowns? Could drones patrol neighborhoods to enforce compliance, monitor who is out after hours, or track individuals? During lawful peaceful assemblies—protests, marches, or community gatherings—might they hover overhead under the guise of "operational need" for situational awareness? We have already seen police drones deployed at large events elsewhere in Canada, and the potential for mission creep is undeniable when guidelines are this open-ended. Consider the Million March for Children here in Durham a couple of years ago—a lawful assembly of parents and caregivers advocating for their kids. There was disturbing talk from City Hall, including straight from Mayor Ashe himself, questioning whether these protesters were "good or bad people." What would it take for DRPS to cross that line today? If a Chief Administrative Officer from any Durham municipality claimed they feared for their safety due to a legal protest, would drones be launched to surveil the participants? This isn't far-fetched; it's the logical extension of discretionary aerial monitoring in a region already leaning toward overreach. Authorities assure us there is no facial recognition in use today. Yet footage can be recorded, stored, and subject to review. That data persists indefinitely. As artificial intelligence advances, future tools could analyze archived video for identification or patterns—especially with policies that evolve over time. Closer to home, Ontario Tech University is actively researching AI-coordinated drone swarms, where multiple drones operate autonomously. (Durhams Drones can also work autonomously together). Internationally, we see examples like China—the most surveilled country in the world—employing such technology for public monitoring and crowd control. Durham's program is not hypothetical; docks are installed, drones are flying, and the initiative is underway. The community information night—featuring live demonstrations, discussions on privacy, and opportunities to meet operators—came after the fact. The decision to deploy was made without prior public consultation or meaningful input from residents. We were presented with a fait accompli: the program is here, now come learn about it. This is not merely about faster emergency response; it is part of a broader pattern in Durham Region where policies increasingly tilt toward centralized oversight and data accumulation. Coupled with other initiatives—like the hate reporting line, essentially a snitch line allowing neighbors to anonymously report on neighbors or anyone for offensive comments, jokes, or perceived slights—it contributes to what can only be described as a culture of control. One where wide discretion allows surveillance tools to proliferate, personal privacy erodes incrementally, and meaningful oversight arrives only after implementation. Durham residents deserve better. Is our region becoming a testing ground for always-on aerial monitoring? Are we comfortable with footage of our neighborhoods, homes, and families being captured, retained, and potentially integrated into more sophisticated systems down the line? Shouldn't citizens have had a real say before drones began launching over our streets, rather than being informed post-launch? Public trust is built on transparency and genuine engagement, not retroactive briefings. I urge Durham residents to demand answers: full disclosure of deployment criteria, public access to flight logs, strict limits on data retention, and independent oversight to prevent overreach. Attend future sessions, contact your representatives, and voice your concerns. Our freedoms are not automatic—they require vigilance. The truth matters. Let's keep pushing for it, together, before this "pilot" becomes permanent reality.