By ETHAN WILDING
In its decision last week, the Supreme Court of British Columbia dismissed a judicial review challenging the Islands Trust’s rejection of the Baker Beach nature-based shoreline protection proposal.
The implication is troubling: that professionally designed, peer-reviewed solutions — supported by both the province and Fisheries and Oceans Canada — are being treated as unacceptable responses to shoreline erosion in the Gulf Islands. Yet shoreline loss continues, driven by climate change, and the responsibility to adapt accordingly has not disappeared. This leaves homeowners in an untenable position, even as the Islands Trust itself acknowledges that property owners must have access to feasible, science-based means of protecting their homes.
So how did we arrive at this point, where acknowledged needs and approved science lead nowhere? Quite simply, through a breakdown in fair and predictable process. Although the court dismissed our judicial petition, the decision itself is sharply critical of how the Islands Trust handled our application. The judge found the Trust’s process so problematic that he took the extraordinary step of denying them costs. This means the Trust must absorb its own legal expenses as a direct consequence of its mismanagement here.
It did not have to unfold this way. When we entered the Islands Trust development permit application process, we did so deliberately and in good faith. We sought early meetings, followed staff guidance, and invested heavily in professional advice and technical work. We did this not because we expected special treatment, but because we understood the system to be rules-based. The premise was simple: if you understand the bylaws, meet them, and do the work required, the process should be predictable.
That premise failed.
For much of the application period, there was no indication that our proposal was anything other than compliant. We coordinated parallel reviews with federal and provincial agencies, assuming that land-use confirmation by the Trust was a necessary first step and not a discretionary hurdle that could change without warning. At no point were we advised early on that the application was considered defective, or that policies applicable to the nature of the development permit would not be met.
Then, without any clear explanation, the ground moved. Criteria appeared to change. Standards were applied differently than before. Communication slowed, then stopped. We were left trying to understand how a project that aligned with the Trust’s own stated objectives could suddenly be deemed unacceptable, without a clear or consistent rationale.
The court took explicit note of this. Justice Milman found that the Islands Trust should have communicated and raised fundamental concerns at the outset, rather than allowing the process to unfold over many months without clarity. As he wrote:
“The petitioners should have been told early on that the [Islands Trust] considered the applications to be defective . . . After submitting the original application on Dec. 27, 2023, the petitioners had to wait until May 2025, nearly 18 months, for a decision that was forthcoming only after an application was made to this court to compel an answer.”
The concerns did not end there. Justice Milman went on to observe that even when a decision was finally issued, the Trust failed to address key issues directly:
“The record before me indicates that the [Islands Trust] failed at any stage to address important issues squarely, such as the claim for an exemption based on the DFO letter or the question of how the opinion expressed in that letter could be reconciled with the [Trust’s] own conclusions as to the anticipated impact of the project on fish habitat.”
That finding bears emphasis. Throughout the entire process, the Islands Trust never engaged with us to discuss how the proposal might be adapted to address concerns, despite repeated requests for dialogue. At no point were we given the opportunity to modify the project in response to objections or evolving issues expressed by members of the public. Instead, after 18 months, our first and only indication of any deficiencies with our application came in the form of an outright rejection. Core questions were left unresolved, conflicting evidence was not meaningfully reconciled, and we were left without clear explanations for how conclusions were reached. This is not a minor procedural flaw; it strikes at the heart of administrative fairness.
Justice Milman acknowledged the consequences of this failure, noting that “all of this made the process, including the court process, more costly for the petitioners than it should have been.”
But the true cost extends well beyond legal fees. Consider the broader resources consumed: multiple technical and environmental reports, coordination across federal and provincial agencies, staff time across multiple departments, and litigation that could have been avoided entirely with competent administration. All of this for a privately funded project proposing nature-based shoreline protection, aligned with the Islands Trust’s stated goals.
There was another cost as well: opportunity. The fact is that shoreline erosion is an ever-escalating challenge in the Gulf Islands. Our generation, and future generations, will need to contend with this reality. But rather than working with us to develop an appropriate, science-based response, the Islands Trust declined to engage this project outright, missing an opportunity to provide leadership at a moment when clarity is urgently needed. A collaborative process could have helped implement a region-appropriate shoreline protection measure, one that could be evaluated and applied responsibly across our island and beyond. Instead, what could have served as a constructive example of how climate adaptation and clear land-use governance can coexist became a case study in procedural breakdown.
The broader concern here is the risk this case poses for projects going forward. Under British Columbia’s Local Government Act, development permit processes are meant to be predictable when established guidelines are met. If staff positions can be reversed without explanation, if timelines extend well beyond what applicants are told to expect, and if bylaw compliance no longer offers predictability, then the message to the community is clear: proceed at your own risk. That discourages exactly the kind of careful, responsible and environmentally conscious projects that the Islands Trust says it wants to see.
If there is a constructive path forward, it lies in reforming the process itself. The Islands Trust must recommit to a genuinely rules-based system, one where concerns are raised early, standards are applied consistently and applicants can rely on published bylaws rather than shifting interpretations. Clear timelines, transparent reasoning and respect for jurisdictional boundaries are not optional extras; they are the foundation of credible land-use governance. Without those reforms, future applicants will face the same uncertainty and the Trust risks undermining both public confidence and its own policy objectives.
The writer and Salt Spring Island resident is one of three petitioners in a recently dismissed B.C. Supreme Court case against the Salt Spring Island Local Trust Committee.