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Building collaborative institutions for government-to-government planning : The Nanwakolas Council’s… Barry, Janice Marie 2011

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Building Collaborative Institutions for Government-to-Government Planning: The Nanwakolas Council‟s Involvement in Central Coast Land and Resource Management Planning by JANICE MARIE BARRY B.Sc., Trent University, 2000 M.A., Trent University 2005  A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY in THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE STUDIES (Planning)  THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA (Vancouver)  February 2011  © Janice Marie Barry, 2011  ABSTRACT This dissertation expands institutionalist approaches to the study of collaborative governance through a case study of Aboriginal-State planning arrangements in coastal British Columbia. As one of the province‟s lengthiest resource planning exercises, spanning several significant court rulings, the Central Coast Land and Resource Management Planning (CCLRMP) process has emerged as a key site for examining the interface between land use planning and Aboriginal reconciliation. First Nations‟ rights, title and government status were, at least partially, acknowledged through the development of new „governmentto-government‟ (G2G) structures and approaches to collaborative land use planning. This dissertation adopts a case study method and is approached through the lens of the Nanwakolas Council, the only First Nation coalition to be involved in the entire CCLRMP process. In-depth interviews and document analysis are used to identify the dimensions of institutional change. Micro and macro-level interactions are analyzed through the use and refinement of three conceptual frames: 1) historical institutionalism‟s treatment of external shocks and punctuated evolution (Pierson & Skopol 2002; True et al. 1999); 2) the grammar of institutions (Crawford & Ostrom 1995); and 3) the institutional capacity development framework (Healey et al. 2003; Magalhães et al. 2002). G2G planning is found to be a result of the convergence of key changes in the internal and external environments. Changing relationships between non-governmental and corporate actors outside the official CCLRMP process combined with significant court decisions to create the impetus for change. Equally important were the ways in which these macro-level changes were interpreted and acted upon within the CCLRMP process. New strategies were enacted and more streamlined relational networks were created, which facilitated greater information exchange, increased rapport and, ultimately, allowed for the development of alternate policy frames. Emergent planning practices and relationships were formalized and expanded through five G2G protocol agreements. Beyond these more substantive research findings, the study also contributes to the growing body of literature that links planning and new institutional theory. It introduces new methodological orientations and analytical tools, while also extending existing conceptual frames to clarify the relationships between the different dimensions and drivers of institutional change.  ii  TABLE OF CONTENTS Abstract ............................................................................................................... ii Table of Contents ................................................................................................. iii List of Tables ....................................................................................................... vi List of Figures ..................................................................................................... vii List of Abbreviations ........................................................................................... viii Acknowledgements .............................................................................................. IX CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTION .................................................................................. 1 The Broader Policy and Organizational Context .................................................................................... 5 Strategic Land Use Planning ................................................................................................................ 6 Aboriginal Reconciliation ...................................................................................................................11 Organizational Evolution ....................................................................................................................... 15 Research Focus and Scope ..................................................................................................................... 18 Study Purpose and Research Questions ............................................................................................ 19 Dissertation Structure ....................................................................................................................... 20 CHAPTER 2: LITERATURE REVIEW ......................................................................... 22 Introduction ............................................................................................................................................ 22 The Collaborative Turn in Land and Natural Resource Planning ....................................................... 23 Collaborative Planning Theory .......................................................................................................... 23 Collaborative Ideas in Natural Resource Planning and Management ............................................26 Research on British Columbian Strategic Land Use Planning .............................................................28 Indigenous-State Collaboration: Lessons from Other Planning Contexts .......................................... 35 Summary ................................................................................................................................................ 40 CHAPTER 3: THE INTERSECTION OF NEW INSTITUTIONAL AND PLANNING THEORY: TOWARDS AN ANALYTICAL FRAME ........................................................................ 42 Introduction ............................................................................................................................................42 A Brief Survey of New Institutional Theory ..........................................................................................42 Towards an Analytical Frame ................................................................................................................44 The Intersection of New Institutional and Planning Theory ...........................................................46 Underlying Normative and Evaluative Criteria ................................................................................ 51 Theorizing Change: Additional Sites for “Translation” and Expansion .......................................... 55 Summary ................................................................................................................................................. 61  iii  CHAPTER 4: RESEARCH METHODOLOGY ................................................................ 64 Introduction ............................................................................................................................................64 Research Strategy ................................................................................................................................... 65 Data Collection Procedures ....................................................................................................................69 Participant-Observation .....................................................................................................................69 Interviews............................................................................................................................................ 71 Current and Historical Documents: .................................................................................................. 75 Data Analysis Procedures ....................................................................................................................... 77 Strategies for Validating Findings ......................................................................................................... 79 Research Ethics...................................................................................................................................... 80 Free and Informed Consent .............................................................................................................. 80 CIHR Principles for Research with Aboriginal Peoples ...................................................................82 Summary ................................................................................................................................................ 84 CHAPTER 5: THE EVOLUTION OF GOVERNMENT-TO-GOVERNMENT PLANNING ON THE CENTRAL COAST: A PUNCTUATED PROCESS OF INSTITUTIONAL CHANGE .................. 85 Introduction ............................................................................................................................................85 The Origins of Government-to-Government Planning in British Columbia ...................................... 88 The Punctuated Nature of the Central Coast Process .......................................................................... 98 LRMP Table 1 ....................................................................................................................................100 LRMP Table 2: The Completion Table ............................................................................................ 109 G2G Negotiations ..............................................................................................................................112 Summary and Discussion ..................................................................................................................... 119 CHAPTER 6: THE NATURE OF THE AGREEMENTS ................................................... 122 Introduction .......................................................................................................................................... 122 The “Grammar of Institutions”: A Meditation on Method ................................................................. 125 Attributes .............................................................................................................................................. 134 Aims ....................................................................................................................................................... 136 Statements that Structure the G2G Relationship ........................................................................... 138 Statements that Define LRMP-Related Roles ................................................................................. 142 Statements that Define Non-LRMP Related Roles......................................................................... 147 Statements that Address Supporting the G2G Relationship.......................................................... 150 Summary and Discussion ..................................................................................................................... 153 CHAPTER 7: GOVERNMENT-TO-GOVERNMENT PLANNING AS INTER-INSTITUTIONAL CAPACITY DEVELOPMENT ................................................................................... 156 Introduction .......................................................................................................................................... 156 Refining the Theoretical Frame ........................................................................................................... 157  iv  Structural Properties and Interactive Qualities .............................................................................. 160 The Re-Introduction of Political Resources .................................................................................... 162 Re-Configuring the Institutional Capacity Development Framework .......................................... 164 Inter-Institutional Capacity Development within the CCLRMP Process .......................................... 167 From “Barking” to Bargaining ......................................................................................................... 167 From Bridged to Braced Networks .................................................................................................. 176 Summary and Discussion ..................................................................................................................... 189 CHAPTER 8: CONCLUSIONS & SUGGESTIONS FOR FUTURE RESEARCH .................... 193 Introduction .......................................................................................................................................... 193 Key Conclusions and the Integration of Ideas .................................................................................... 194 Summary of the Substantive Research Findings and Contributions ............................................ 194 The Evolution of the G2G Relationship & the Role of the Nanwakolas Council .......................... 195 What can be learned from the Nanwakolas Council and the CCLRMP process? ......................... 199 Summary of the Theoretical/Methodological Findings and Contributions .................................. 201 Critical Reflections ...............................................................................................................................207 On the Nature of Interdisciplinary and Applied Research .............................................................207 On Methodology and the Overall Research Process ...................................................................... 208 Suggestions for Future Research ......................................................................................................... 210 Extending the Study of G2G Planning Relations .............................................................................211 Testing and Expanding the Analytical Adaptations ....................................................................... 213 References ....................................................................................................... 215 Appendix A: List of Interviews and Explanation of Interview Codes .......................... 236 Appendix B: Ethics Certificates ............................................................................ 237 For Pilot Study ...................................................................................................................................... 237 For Interviews ...................................................................................................................................... 238 Appendix C: Letter of Support from the Nanwakolas Council ................................... 239 Appendix D: Sample Interview Questions ............................................................. 240 Appendix E: Interview Consent Form ................................................................... 242  v  LIST OF TABLES Table 2-1: Criteria for evaluating collaborative planning ....................................................... 33 Table 3-1: The vertical and horizontal classification of rules-in-use ...................................... 59 Table 4-1: A comparison of the different traditions of qualitative inquiry & their application to this project ................................................................................................................... 66 Table 4-2: Strategies for addressing the CIHR Guidelines for research with Aboriginal Peoples ............................................................................................................................. 82 Table 5-1: Provincial training materials‟ explanation of the potential impact of treaty settlement on Land and Resource Management Planning ............................................. 96 Table 5-2: First Nation involvement in the Land and Resource Management Plans approved from 1995 to 2001 ............................................................................................................ 97 Table 6-1: Summary information of the five G2G agreements between the southern First Nations and the Province ............................................................................................... 123 Table 7-1: The structural properties and interactive qualities of the three institutional resources .........................................................................................................................164 Table 7-2: First Nation participation in the CCLRMP Process..............................................169  vi  LIST OF FIGURES  Figure 1-1: The Central Coast Land and Resource Management Planning Area ..................... 3 Figure 1-2: Strategic Land Use Planning regions ..................................................................... 9 Figure 1-3: Provincial and Kwakwaka‟wakw organizations involved in Strategic Land Use Planning ............................................................................................................................ 16 Figure 3-1: An institutional approach to collaborative planning ........................................... 50 Figure 3-2: The Institutional Analysis and Development (IAD) Framework ........................ 58 Figure 5-1: Significant steps and stages in the Central Coast LRMP Process ........................ 99 Figure 5-2: Governance framework for implementing the Coastal Land Use Decision........ 116 Figure 6-1: The relative proportion of the four attribute types ............................................. 135 Figure 6-2: The relative proportion of the four categories of aims .......................................138 Figure 6-3: The relative proportion of the different types of institutional statements that structure the G2G relationship ....................................................................................... 139 Figure 6-4: The relative proportion of the different types of institutional statements that define LRMP-related roles ............................................................................................. 143 Figure 6-5: The relative proportion of the different types of institutional statements that define non-LRMP roles ..................................................................................................149 Figure 6-6: The relative proportion of the different types of institutional statements that support the G2G relationship ......................................................................................... 152 Figure 7-1: Institutional capacity development .................................................................... 158 Figure 7-2: Adapting the institutional capacity development framework ............................166 Figure 7-3: Institutional capacity development during the shift in strategy from “barking” to bargaining ....................................................................................................................... 176 Figure 7-4: The relational network and governance arenas present during CCLRMP 1 ...... 180 Figure 7-5: The relational network and governance arenas present during CCLRMP 2 ......183 Figure 7-6: Institutional capacity development during the shift from bridged to braced relational networks ........................................................................................................ 189  vii  LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS  AIP: Agreement in Principle BC: British Columbia CCLRMP: Central Coast Land and Resource Management Plan CORE: Commission on Resources and Environment DSP: Detailed Strategic Plan EBM: Ecosystem-Based Management G2G: Government-to-Government ILMB: Integrated Land Management Bureau LRMP: Land and Resource Management Plan KDC: Kwakiutl District Council KNT First Nations: Kwakiutl [District Council], „Namgis & Tlowitis [Mumtagila] First Nation LOU: Letter of Understanding LUCO: Land Use Coordination Office LRF: Land and Resource Forum MOU: Memorandum of Understanding MSRM: Ministry of Sustainable Resource Management MTTC: Musgamagw Tsawataineuk Tribal Council Society NDP: New Democratic Party PIMC: Plan Implementation and Monitoring Committee T(M)(N): Tlowitis (Mumtagila) (Nation) SEA: Strategic Engagement Agreement  viii  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS  First and foremost, I would like to thank the Nanwakolas Council staff and member First Nations. Without their trust and support, this research would not have been possible. Merv Child, Wally Eamer and Dallas Smith deserve particular mention, as their willingness to share a wealth of experience helped transform this work from a broad conceptual idea into an implementable research project. Jon O‟Riordan played a similar role, though from the perspective of a retired provincial civil servant. In fact, the contributions of all of my research participants need to be acknowledged, as they generously gave up their time and diligently tried to recall specific details from the lengthy CCLRMP process. Within the university, my supervisory committee was a source of inspiration and support during the entire research process. Tony Dorcey, Leonie Sandercock and Ron Trosper offered different, though highly complementary theoretical and methodological experiences and perspectives. Tony‟s thoughtful leadership as the chair of my supervisory committee was especially appreciated. The advice and feedback I received from my supervisors was augmented by a lively community of PhD and MA students within the School of Community and Regional Planning at UBC. I would especially like to thank Erica Crawford, Cornelia Sussmann, Ren Thomas, Silvia Vilches and James White, who were both supportive friends and critical colleagues. They were a tremendous sounding board for ideas and helped me work through some of the more challenging aspects of my research journey. Ren also helped me design many of diagrams that are included in the dissertation. A final word of thanks to my friends and family; for although their contributions were often indirect, they were no less significant and are no less appreciated.  ix  CHAPTER 1  Introduction  Canada is the test case for a grand notion – the notion that dissimilar people can share land, resources, power and dreams while respecting and sustaining their differences. (Canada. RCAP 1996a: ix) This opening statement from the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples (1996), a massive multi-year study of Canadian-Aboriginal relations, summarizes not only the challenges faced by Canada but also by (post)colonial states across the globe as they reconstruct their relationship with indigenous peoples. Arising out of a particularly tumultuous decade in contemporary Canadian-Aboriginal relations,1 the Royal Commission sought to identify “the foundations of a fair and honourable relationship between the Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal peoples of Canada” (Canada. RCAP 1996a: x). When writing about lands and resources, it concluded that co-management and co-jurisdictional arrangements2 are essential components of this new governance relationship. For natural resource planners and managers, this recommendation represents both a challenge and an opportunity. Namely, how to extend existing knowledge and experience in collaborative decision-making to the development of planning relationships that respect and sustain the differences between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal communities, while not losing sight of their social, economic, political and ecological interdependencies. Though it is relatively new and remains largely untested, the BC government‟s 2005 “New Relationship” policy statement appeared to complement and provide a potential avenue to advance the spirit and intent of the Royal Commission‟s recommendations. This policy  1  The 1980s and 90s were characterized by several violent conflicts over land and resources, as well as Aboriginal opposition to the three attempts at constitutional amendment (Canada. RCAP 1996b). 2  Co-jurisdiction is defined as allowing for “representation on a nation-to-nation basis, whereas comanagement refers to an institutional arrangement that is more local in nature, allowing for representation of local Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal communities” (Canada. RCAP 1996c: 579)  1  statement committed to the establishment of a new approach to working with First Nations: a government-to-government (G2G) relationship based on the respect, recognition and accommodation of Aboriginal rights and title. Shared decision-making arrangements between the Province and First Nations were to become an important aspect of natural resource planning. The promise of these decision-making arrangements dovetailed the preexisting approach to Strategic Land and Resource Management Planning, which was largely based on the principles of collaborative decision-making. First Nations were initially encouraged to participate in the local planning tables alongside other stakeholders. The “New Relationship” and recent changes to Aboriginal case law reinforced the need for a new approach to land use planning. At the time of writing, affected First Nations are now engaging in bilateral G2G negotiation processes, prior to the approval of land use plans. Some have successfully secured G2G processes throughout the entire life cycle of the planning process. Although such changes arguably represent a positive shift in the governance of BC‟s natural resources and in the reconciliation of Aboriginal-State relations, there is a lack of in-depth research on these questions. Little has been written about First Nations‟ on-the-ground experience of government-to-government planning or the kinds of institutional arrangements that are needed to support it. Although it was initiated before the New Relationship policy statement, the land use planning process that took place in BC‟s Central Coast region (Figure 1-1) from 1996 to 2006 is an important touchstone in the evolution of government-to-government planning. Indigenous-State relationship building was not, however, a major driving factor behind the initiation of the Central Coast process. Instead, it was couched in more general terms; the process was about bringing “certainty” (BC 1996b) to a 4.6 million hectare region of great ecological and economic importance: one that also seemed poised for intense conflict between the different interest groups. Known for its large concentration of un-logged watersheds and the genetically distinct white „spirit bear‟, the Central Coast is of great interest amongst wilderness campaigners, who often refer to the area as the “Great Bear Rainforest”. The region also supports a diverse resource-based economy, including outdoor tourism, mining, commercial fisheries and aquaculture. Forestry is by far the dominant economic driver. In 1996, when the planning process was initiated, it accounted for 21% of regional jobs (Holman & Terry 2001). However, the region is far from thriving; its socioeconomic status is depressed, largely due to downturns in the forest industry (BC. CCLRMP Completion Table 2004: 6). The majority of the approximately 5,000 area residents are First  2  Nation, most of whom reside in its northern portions. Unemployment rates are higher and other social indicators (e.g. health, education) are lower than other parts of British Columbia, particularly within First Nation communities, creating both social-economic and environmental imperatives.  Figure 1-1: The Central Coast Land and Resource Management Planning Area  3  Area First Nations organized themselves into regional planning coalitions that were instrumental in the establishment of a long-term G2G relationship and continue to be active in the implementation of the Central Coast plan. A leading example of this kind of collective planning and strategy development is the Nanwakolas Council. It grew out of a coalition of several Kwakwaka'wakw Nations in the southern portion of the planning area. Initially, the southern First Nation planning coalition was based on a much larger organizational structure, involving as many as 15 different First Nations. Given that the traditional territories of many of these Nations have small or no areas of overlap with the CCLRMP planning area, the planning coalition was eventually reduced to a smaller group of participating First Nations: primarily, the Mamalilikulla-Qwe‟Qwa‟Sot‟Em, Tlowitsis, Da‟naxda‟xw First Nation, Gwa‟sala-„Nakwaxda‟xw and Kwiakah First Nations. The traditional territories of these five Nations extend from approximately Smith Sound, in the north, to Bute Inlet in the south (Figure 1-1). These territories span both sides of the Georgia Strait, but only the mainland portions were discussed during the CCLRMP process. Like most of British Columbia, the majority of these lands are unceded traditional territories. Although there are designated Indian Reserves and other sites of historical and cultural significance throughout the southern plan area, the Kwicksutaineuk (a non-participating First Nation) village on Gilford Island is currently the only permanent community (BC 2001b). Most members of the Kwakwaka'wakw First Nations reside outside of their traditional territories on Vancouver Island, though their longstanding involvement in the Central Coast process is testament to their commitment to the sustainable planning and management of their traditional territories. Formally incorporated in 2007, Nanwakolas – or “place we come to for agreement” in Kwak‟wala – has emerged as one of the primary sites for the enactment of a government-togovernment relationship between its member First Nations and the Province of British Columbia. Its members have “come together on a regional basis to participate collectively on various land and resource management and planning issues” (BC. Ministry of Agriculture and Lands [MAL] et al. 2007: para. 11). In the years since the announcement of the Coastal Land Use Decision, the Nanwakolas Council has played an instrumental role in helping to refine that broad land use direction. It has also secured a more meaningful and efficient approach to the processing of land use permits and development applications, through the development the Nanwakolas Clearinghouse Pilot Project. All of this work is supported by a  4  small staff of legal, planning, policy and GIS professionals, several of whom have learned to negotiate the complexities of both the provincial bureaucracy and the provincial executive. The Council is a novel and unprecedented institutional innovation, making it a critical case for examining the dynamics of government-to-government planning. Detailed examination of the Council‟s on-going relationships with the Province of British Columbia offers new insights and opens up new lines of questioning about how planning might be used to support the creation of the institutional structures needed to support “a fair and honourable relationship between the Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal peoples of Canada” (Canada. RCAP 1996a:x).  The Broader Policy and Organizational Context Before introducing the study purpose and research questions, it is necessary to provide some additional background on key features of the broader policy and organizational context. This research sits at the intersection of two major policy areas: a) integrated land and resource planning, or what has become known in British Columbia as Strategic Land Use Planning, and b) Aboriginal reconciliation, or the myriad of legal cases, policy initiatives, and multigovernment agreements that have attempted to address the issue of Aboriginal rights and title. Integrated resource planning was originally construed as a mechanism to resolve persistent land use conflicts: the so-called “war in the woods” between industrial and conservationist resource interests. In recent years, it is also being used as a site for the reconciliation of Aboriginal and provincial interests and governance structures. Thus, although Strategic Land Use Planning and Aboriginal reconciliation represent two distinct policy spheres, the lines between them are becoming increasingly blurry. After over 130 years of denial, the British Columbian government has been forced by court decisions to admit that Aboriginal rights and title do exist and has had to alter its planning and policy systems to accommodate the existence of additional title-holders. In integrated natural resource planning, this process of accommodation has unfolded over an approximately 20-year period, through several iterations of the Strategic Land Use Planning program, and will continue to unfold on into the future. Over approximately the same 20year period, the legal understanding of Aboriginal rights and title in British Columbia has gone from an assumption of extinguishment to being interpreted as a substantial “burden” (Delgamuukw v. British Columbia 1997: para. 145) on the Crown that demands additional consultation and accommodation. The following sections outline some of the major changes 5  to both the Strategic Land Use Planning program and the discourse on Aboriginal rights and title: changes that will be revisited and further contextualized in subsequent chapters. The third sub-section provides a brief orientation to the different provincial and southern First Nation organizational structures. For as provincial policies and planning processes evolved, so too did the organizational form. Strategic Land Use Planning Since the early 1990s, BC has been engaged in a multi-scalar approach to integrated resource management known as Strategic Land Use Planning. The roots of this relatively recent approach lie within both the historical evolution of provincial forest policy and the more recent confrontations between environmental groups, First Nations and the forest industry. Forest harvesting has long been one of the province‟s major economic drivers and is a major area of debate and policy experimentation. The recommendations of the 1945 Sloan Commission established by the BC government resulted in the introduction of a policy of “sustained yield”. Large forestry corporations would be given the opportunity to acquire long-term leases for large tracts of Crown land, while professional foresters from both the government and the private sector would negotiate appropriate strategies to ensure “perpetual streams of harvestable timber” (Jackson & Curry 2004: 28). All of this was done “with little reference to the general public or to local communities”, heralding the beginning of the “era of techno-corporatist management of the provincial land base” (Jackson & Curry 2004: 28). With the 1976 Pearse Commission and the resultant changes to provincial legislation, the sustainable yield policy was modified to accommodate non-timber values. The BC Ministry of Forests would now oversee the preparation of land use plans that ensured a more coordinated approach to forestry, rangeland, fisheries, wildlife and outdoor recreation management (Jackson & Curry 2004). However, the degree to which the Ministry of Forestry attended to these new responsibilities is questionable, as these plans were developed with “relatively restricted kinds of public consultation” and tended to confine non-timber values to “footnotes” (Howlett et al. 2009: 387) in the supposed integrated land use plans. The Ministry of Forests‟ inattention to non-timber interests worsened during the economic recession in the 1980s. As Jackson and Curry suggest, “the provincial government abandoned its attempts at integrated resource management and announced an era of „sympathetic management‟, which relaxed the environmental constraints placed on BC forest  6  companies” (2004: 29). That shift in forest policy is often connected to the emergence of BC‟s so-called „war in the woods‟: a decades-long conflict between environmental, industrial and First Nation forest interests (Howlett et al. 2009; Jackson & Curry 2004; Wilson 2001). From 1985 to the mid-1990s, the environmental community waged numerous direct challenges to British Columbian forest practices. Acts of civil disobedience in high-profile watersheds were common, culminating in the 1993 protests over Clayoquot Sound (Smith & Sterritt n.d.; Wilson 2001). More than 850 people were arrested at Clayoquot Sound. At the time, it was the largest mass arrests in Canadian history: a feat that has only recently been trumped by the 2010 G20 protests in Toronto (Seccia 2010). First Nation blockades were also becoming a common political phenomenon. From 1984 to 1995, 13 different Aboriginal blockades were initiated as a form of protest against industrial timber harvesting, bringing increased visibility to Aboriginal rights and title claims (Blomley 1996). The environmental community‟s site-specific protests soon gave way to the development of new strategies and tactics in what was becoming known as the “war in the woods.” One such strategy was the environmental community‟s call for a dramatic and systematic expansion of the province‟s entire protected areas system, an expansion that they believed would be best achieved by comprehensive planning (Wilson 2001). As Wilson (2001) observes, by the early 1990s, it was becoming more and more clear that the scandal-wracked Social Credit party would not win another election and the New Democratic Party (NDP) would soon be at the helm of the provincial government. As a left-leaning party, with strong historical links to organized labour and emergent connections to the environmental community, the NDP was faced with the task of developing a policy agenda that would satisfy both components of their voter-base. Recognizing that on-going resource management strife was not in either component‟s interest, the NDP‟s 1991 election campaign was run on a promise to achieve “peace in the woods”: Procedurally, the peace in the woods would be achieved through shared decision making. On a substantive but still relatively abstract level, the package of [policy] instruments would revolve around commitments to a comprehensive assessment of land use and to a zoning approach based on counterbalancing protected areas additions with zones designated for highintensity resource development (Wilson 2001: 39). Although the right-of-centre Social Credit party pioneered the idea of multi-agency, multistakeholder Land and Resource Management Plans (Howlett et al. 2009) – with the first LRMP being completed in 1989 – the election of the NDP government took these fledging  7  attempts at Strategic Land Use Planning and transformed them into a “bold experiment in shared decision-making” (Howlett et al 2009: 387). The Commission on Resources and Environment (CORE) was the first agency involved in the implementation of what was specifically called Strategic Land Use Planning. In the words of its Commissioner, Stephen Owen, the mandate of this government-sponsored, independent body was two-fold. First, it was “to assist the transition to sustainability through the development of an overall provincial strategy, regional strategic land use plans, increased public participation and aboriginal involvement, improved government coordination, and dispute resolution processes” (1998a: 14). It was also to act as a kind of environmental ombudsman by providing “ongoing sustainability oversight through its duty to advise government in an independent and public manner on land use and related resource and environmental issues, and on the need for related legislation, policies, and practices” (Owen 1998a: 14). CORE‟s work began with the development of a Land Use Charter (BC. CORE 1994a) and the publication of a four-part Provincial Land Use Strategy. This strategy outlined the need for a Sustainability Act (BC. CORE 1994b); the overall planning framework (BC. CORE 1994c); the mechanisms for public participation (BC. CORE 1994d); and the dispute resolution process (BC. CORE 1994e). While these principles were being developed, CORE was directed to pilot its emerging shared-decision making model in four of the province‟s most contentious regions: the East and West Kootenays; Vancouver Island; and Caribou Chilcotin (Figure 1-2). Through round table negotiations, affected parties were to play a direct role in the development of regional land use plans, including the identification of additional protected areas and other land use zones. Provincial government representatives would participate in the negotiations, while CORE staff would provide logistical support, mediation services and training in interest-based negotiation (Owen 1998a). None of these tables were able to reach consensus on all aspects and the final plans were developed through closed, cabinet-led negotiations with key stakeholders (Wilson 2001).  8  Figure 1-2: Strategic Land Use Planning regions  In the midst of the slow and unsteady evolution of the CORE plans, some areas bypassed the development of regional plans and jumped straight into the creation of the old Ministry of Forests‟ Land and Resource Management Plans (Wilson 2001). Although Land and Resource Management Plans (LRMPs) had been endorsed by CORE and were seen as an important component of the Provincial Land Use Strategy, the original idea was that these more specific plans would only be undertaken once the regional land use plan was complete (BC. Integrated Resource Planning Committee [IRPC] 1993). CORE‟s planning framework was a hierarchical one: the Province Land Use Strategy would establish the over-arching planning principles and policies; regional land use plans would set broad strategies and do some coarse land use zoning; and sub-regional plans would refine those zones and set more specific management guidelines. Like the CORE-sponsored regional planning processes, the 9  development of these sub-regional plans was seen as an opportunity to promote integration and consensus-building. All affected stakeholders and First Nations would be encouraged to participate, while the provincial government (not CORE) would provide procedural and technical support. The Kamloops LRMP was the first to be initiated and, even though it took on an area nearly as large as the CORE plans, it was finalized with relative ease (Wilson 2001). By 1994, the pre-existing LRMP model became the preferred planning tool and CORE was eventually replaced with the Land Use Coordination Office (LUCO) – a move that at least one commentator suggests reflects the government‟s desire to rein in Strategic Land Use Planning and re-assert provincial control (Wilson 2001). LRMPs were to follow a standardized planning process, progressing from the development of scenarios to interestbased negotiation (O‟Riordan 2005). The final task for the multi-stakeholder planning body would be to prepare a final consensus report or options report that outlined the potential environmental, economic and social impacts of all the scenarios that were considered, including the recommended option. At a minimum, the stakeholders‟ proposed management direction was to consist of series of maps outlining the proposed zones (or resource management units), along with the associated objectives and management strategies (BC. IRPC 1993). Inter-Ministerial planning teams provided the bulk of the technical and organizational expertise and commented on the table‟s recommendations, before it was sent to their ministers for approval (BC. IRPC 1993). At the time of writing, 20 LRMPs have been approved in British Columbia. When this figure is combined with the four Regional Land Use Plans that were developed through the CORE process, almost all of British Columbia is now under the direction of an approved Strategic Land Use Plan (Figure 1-2). At this point, it remains an open question as to whether or not LRMP processes will be initiated for the remaining planning regions. In 2006, the Province released its “New Direction for Strategic Land Use Planning”. Strategic Land Use Planning will now only be initiated when there is a strong “business case”. Few new processes have been initiated, effectively bringing British Columbia‟s experiment with integrated land use planning to a halt, at least temporarily. Though BC has recently been heralded as “the only jurisdiction in the world… that has systematically used collaborative planning to prepare land use plans for [almost] its entire land base” (Cullen et al. 2009: 333), it is important to bear in mind that this accomplishment has not been a linear journey. The overall approach  10  to Strategic Land Use Planning has been shaped by a persistent and largely unresolved tension within the provincial government: increased recognition of the value of consensusbased approaches to land use planning, yet reluctance to be seen as giving up too much control. In recent years, the negotiation of this tension has encountered another layer of complexity, in light of increased legal and political recognition of Aboriginal rights and title. Aboriginal Reconciliation Aboriginal participation in Strategic Land Use Planning has historically been marginal, at best, and is often complicated by ongoing debate over the nature and extent of Aboriginal rights and title. Despite the early treaty-making efforts of Governor Douglas, the colony of British Columbia did not abide by the principles of the Royal Proclamation of 1763, which recognized the existence of Aboriginal land rights and led to several iterations of treatymaking in the areas east of the Rocky Mountains (Tennant 1990). Instead, Aboriginal people were simply moved onto designated land reserves (Harris 2002), meaning that the development of almost all of modern British Columbia has taken place on unceded Aboriginal territory. The establishment of Indian Reserves was based on several assumptions about the needs and capacities of Aboriginal people. As Cole Harris (the author of a seminal text on the creation of BC Indian Reserves) observes: White immigrants and settlers in British Columbia in the 1860s took it for granted that the land awaited them… the proposition that almost all provincial land was unsettled and unused – or used slightly in ways that deserved to be replaced by more intensive, modern land uses – was not debated. Natives were wanderers, primitive people who did not yet know how to use land effectively. They had legitimate claims to their principal settlement sites, also to their burial grounds and small cultivated patches, but not to much more (2002: 46). European settlement of the rest of the land base and the application of provincial laws and authority were seen to have extinguished any remaining Aboriginal land claims: a proposition that was supported in an 1888 court case involving the St. Catherine‟s Lumber and Milling Company. Previous acknowledgements of the existence of Aboriginal title were interpreted by the court as a creation of the Royal Proclamation, as opposed to a preexisting right. “Seen as a creation of the British authorities, that title could now also be seen as remaining in effect only at the pleasure of those same authorities” (Tennant 1990: 214). It was not until the 1973 Calder case that those assumptions came to be questioned in a court of law.  11  Launched by Frank Calder and the Nishga (now Nisga‟a) Tribal Council, the Calder case has been referred to as a case of “immense significance” both for the Nisga‟a and for “the development of the law of Aboriginal title in Canada generally” (Godlewska & Webber 2007: 3). As Godlewska and Webber (2007) recount, the Calder decision addressed three major issues: 1) whether Aboriginal title existed; 2) whether Nisga‟a title had been lawfully extinguished; and 3) whether the Court had the jurisdiction to make such a ruling given that the Nisga‟a has not been granted permission to sue the Crown, which at that time was a requirement in British Columbia. Although the Nisga‟a ultimately lost their case on this third issue, six of the seven judges affirmed the existence of Aboriginal title, although they were divided on the legal foundations for this title and on the question of extinguishment. Despite these divisions, the Calder case was seen to have played a direct role in the reversal of Prime Minister Trudeau‟s stance on the issue of Aboriginal rights and its subsequent inclusion in the 1982 Constitution Act (Dickason 2002). Although Section 35 of the Canadian Constitution explicitly recognizes and affirms the “existing aboriginal and treaty rights of the aboriginal peoples of Canada,” it would take another Supreme Court of Canada decision before its legal implications were more fully understood. The 1990 Sparrow case, which arose after a Musqueam man was charged with violation of federal fishing regulations, was the first to apply Section 35 – though not to the question of Aboriginal title (Tennant 1990). At issue was whether the net requirements set by the Band‟s fishing license were inconsistent with Section 35. Although the ruling is perhaps more often remembered for its guidance on determining whether an infringement on existing Aboriginal rights is justifiable (e.g. for conservation purposes), the Justices also found that the “Crown failed to discharge its burden of proving extinguishment. An aboriginal right is not extinguished merely by its being controlled in great detail by the regulations under the Fisheries Act. […] Historical policy on the part of the Crown can neither extinguish the existing aboriginal right without clear intention nor, in itself, delineate that right” (R. v. Sparrow 1990: para. 2) Aboriginal rights could no longer be seen to have been extinguished by the assertion of sovereignty by the Crown. As a result, the Sparrow case is credited with providing the necessary stimulus for the establishment of the BC Treaty Process: “It put an end to 130 years of denial of aboriginal rights by the BC government” (BC Treaty Commission 2010).  12  Officially established in September 1992, with the signing of the British Columbia Treaty Commission Agreement, the BC Treaty Commission was designed to facilitate a modern treaty-making process between interested First Nations and both the British Columbian and Federal governments. The scope and format of these treaty negotiations were established by the final report of the British Columbia Claims Task Force (1991). The BC Treaty Process was to be a flexible negotiation: each party would be free to raise issues that they considered to be of significance and no party could unilaterally define the scope of the negotiations. Aboriginal governance, lands, resources, and financial compensation were identified as some of the issues that the parties would likely want to address. Although the BC Claims Task Force did not specifically address it, private property is not on the negotiating table, except on a willing-buyer, willing-seller basis (BC Treaty Commission n.d.). Treaty discussions all follow a six-stage negotiation process, progressing from the preparation of a simple Statement of Intent to long-term implementation plans. Given the complexity of the issues, the BC Treaty Process has long asserted that the parties must develop mechanisms to “balance their conflicting interests until these negotiations are concluded” (BC Claims Task Force 1991: 23). This balancing of interests is often achieved through the use of what has become known as “interim measures agreements.” Interim measures agreements are seen as “an important early indicator of the sincerity and commitment of the parties to the negotiation of treaties”. They provide a way to deal with contentious issues in “a preliminary or experimental way” and often a “transition to implementation of the treaty” (BC Claims Task Force 1991: 23). Like the broader treaty negotiation process, interim measures agreements are to be designed to address the parties‟ specific interests. The range of options that might be pursued includes:       Notification to affected parties before action is taken concerning matters which are or may be the subject of negotiations; Consultation with parties affected by any proposed action; Consent of one of the parties before action is taken; Joint management processes requiring consensus of all the parties; Restriction or moratorium on the alienation of land or resources.  As will be revisited in a subsequent chapter, Aboriginal participation in Strategic Land Use Planning was originally construed as a kind of interim measures agreement. The zoning provisions provided by land use plans were seen as a potential way to protect Aboriginal interests until a treaty was in place. The shared decision-making approach was also seen as a potential avenue for the advancement of joint management (BC. LUCO. 1998c).  13  Despite the existence of the BC Treaty Process and the potential for interim measures agreements, Aboriginal people in British Columbia continued to advance their claims through the courts, resulting in several significant rulings. These rulings solidified the necessity and importance of the BC Treaty Process, while also opening up alternative avenues for the pursuit of Aboriginal land rights. Delgamuukw [Delgamuukw] v. British Columbia (1997) was a watershed moment in Provincial-First Nation relations. The Supreme Court of Canada ruling confirmed that Aboriginal title does exist in British Columbia, which provided further justification for the BC Treaty Process and case-by-case legal determinations of Aboriginal title (BC Treaty Commission 1999). Aboriginal title was defined as a communally-held, sui generis interest in the land that arises out of “prior occupation of Canada by aboriginal peoples” (Delgamuukw 1997: para. 114). In addition, the Supreme Court clearly asserted that “lands held pursuant to title cannot be used in a manner that is irreconcilable with the nature of the claimants‟ attachment to those lands” (Delgamuukw 1997: para. 125). For example, if occupation and title are established on the basis of hunting practices, those uses cannot be destroyed through intensive resource harvesting. In addition to its discussion of the nature of Aboriginal title, Delgamuukw also took significant strides towards articulating the Crown‟s responsibility to consult and accommodate Aboriginal peoples. Chief Justice Lamer writes in the official Supreme Court of Canada ruling: There is always a duty of consultation. […] The nature and scope of the duty of consultation will vary with the circumstances. In occasional cases, when the breech is less serious or relatively minor, it will be no more than a duty to discuss important decisions that will be taken with respect to lands held pursuant to aboriginal title. […] In most cases, it will be significantly deeper than mere consultation. Some cases may even require the full consent of an aboriginal nation… (Delgamuukw 1997: para. 168) However, it was some years before this direction from the courts began to filter into the provincial policy, particularly with respect to Strategic Land Use Planning. As one lawyer specializing in Aboriginal law suggests, the Province continued to deny that it had any duty to consult until Aboriginal title was proven (Mandell 2004), most likely through the signing of modern treaty. The source and scope of the Province‟s duty to consult and accommodate Aboriginal Peoples was further refined in two Supreme Court of Canada cases, Haida [Haida] Nation v. British 14  Columbia (Minister of Forests) and Taku River Tlingit v. British Columbia (Project Assessment Director). Released on the same date in late 2004, these cases effectively “ended the debate about whether the Crown‟s duty to consult only arose after aboriginal rights have been established” (Pearlman 2005: 2). The courts clearly stated that the duty to engage in fair and meaningful consultation processes with Aboriginal people does not arise out of the formal acknowledgement of an Aboriginal claim or the signing of a treaty, but rather out of the more general “honour of the Crown” (Haida 2004: para. 16). In addition, the level of consultation must be in proportion to the strength of the Aboriginal claim, regardless of whether or not that claim has been formally proven. In the Haida decision, Chief Justice McLachlin also drew specific attention to the importance of consulting on strategic planning decisions, since these processes tend to be characterized by multi-year decision-making and often establish the general parameters for all other resources planning and management activities. Clearly, the Province could no longer afford to take a “business as usual” (Mandell 2004: 2) approach to the development of Strategic Land Use Plans. As will be further explored in subsequent chapters, it had to develop new methods for ensuring that Aboriginal involvement in the preparation of Land and Resource Management Plans upheld the principles that were being developed by the courts. Notably, all of the Strategic Land Use Plans completed after 2004 have undergone or are currently engaged in separate G2G negotiations between affected First Nations and the province. Of these planning processes, the Central Coast LRMP is of particular note, as it is one of the earliest and most complex plans to adopt this new method of involving First Nations.  Organizational Evolution One of the difficulties in recounting the history of the Central Coast LRMP is that the organizational structures that oversaw, designed and implemented Strategic Land Use Planning processes have undergone tremendous change in its nearly two-decade history. Strategic Land Use Planning spanned four different provincial governments. The New Democratic Party (NDP) held power for two successive terms from 1991 to 2001. The Liberal government defeated the NDP in the 2001 election and went on to hold power for another two terms (2001-2009). These political parties‟ impact on the Central Coast process will be discussed in subsequent chapters. For now, it will suffice to provide a brief chronology of the organizational evolution of Strategic Land Use Planning (Figure 1-3). This section is not intended as a complete analysis, but rather a brief orientation to genealogy of the different agencies and organizations and how they connect to their contemporary counterparts. 15  A group of Kwakwaka'wakw Nations and Tribal Council start coordinating their participation in the CCLRMP process: Kwakiutl District Council, Musgamagw Tsawataineuk Tribal Council* and Tlowitsis Nation (KDC/MTTC/TN)  1998  The Gwawaenuk Nation (a MTTC member) withdraws from the planning process  2001 2005  Two more MTTC Nations (Tsawataneuk Nation & Kwicksutaneuk Nation) withdraw from the process and the coalition of Kwakwaka'wakw Nations starts to refer to itself as the KNT First Nations** to better reflect its membership  2007  After winning a second term in office, the Liberal government moves Strategic Land Use Planning to the newly created Integrated Management Bureau (ILMB), a division of the Ministry of Agriculture and Lands  1996  The new Liberal government creates the Ministry for Sustainable Resources Management (MSRM)  1994  NDP government creates the Land Use Coordination Office (LUCO) to oversee Strategic Land Use Planning  1992  NDP government established the Commission on Resources and Environment (CORE)  The Nanwakolas Council is formed  * The participating Nations from the KDC were: Kwakuilt First Nation, Mamalilikulla-Qwe‟Qwa‟Sot‟Em First Nation, Da‟naxda‟xw First Nation, Gwa‟sala-„Nakwaxda‟xw First Nation, Quatsino First Nation, Tlatasikwala First Nation, We Wai Kai First Nation, We Wai Kum First Nation, Kwaikah First Nation and Comox First Nation. The participating Nations from the MTTC were: Tsawataineuk Nation, Kwicksutaineuk Nation, Kwa-Wa-Aineuk (Gwawaenuk) Nation and the „Namgis Nation ** The KNT First Nations were: Mamalilikulla-Qwe‟Qwa‟Sot‟Em First Nation, „Namgis First Nation, Tlowitsis First Nation, Da‟naxda‟xw First Nation, Gwa‟sala-„Nakwaxda‟xw First Nation, We Wai Kai First Nation, We Wai Kum First Nation and Kwiakah First Nation  Figure 1-3: Provincial and Kwakwaka’wakw organizations involved in Strategic Land Use Planning  16  As already discussed, CORE was the first agency involved in what was termed Strategic Land Use Planning. Although the Commission‟s policy work would have had an impact on how the Central Coast process was conceptualized, the organization itself was disbanded before the Central Coast process was officially announced. The Land Use Coordination Office (LUCO), which was established in 1994, oversaw the first half of the Central Coast process. Initially, LUCO played a coordinating role between CORE and the ministries. It also organized briefs and policy advice for senior officials and cabinet when it came time to decide what to do with the CORE plans (Wilson 2001). After CORE was disbanded, LUCO continued to play a coordinating role between the ministries (O‟Riordan 2005) and oversaw the preparation of LRMPs. After the Liberal government took power, LUCO transitioned into a full provincial ministry, the Ministry of Sustainable Resource Management (MSRM). The new Ministry was intended to act as “a single access point to planning, data and information on Crown land and resources by integrating and streamlining functions previously performed by numerous ministries and agencies” (BC. MSRM 2002). For the next four years, it coordinated all of LRMP processes in the Province, including those that had been initiated by LUCO. By 2005, there were only a few remaining regions in the province that lacked strategic land use direction. A separate land use planning ministry was no longer a priority and land use planning was relegated to the Integrated Land Management Bureau (ILMB), originally a division of the Ministry of Agriculture and Lands (MAL). Still active today, the ILMB continues to provide an integrated approach to the provision of up-to-date information about the management of Crown lands. However, with the completion of the last of the “legacy” (BC. ILMB 2006) plans that were initiated by the MSRM, Strategic Land Use Planning is no longer a major service area. Expanding on many of the lessons and approaches that were developed during almost 20 years of Strategic Land Use Planning, the bureau‟s focus has now shifted towards the development of more effective models for First Nation consultation (BC. ILMB, n.d) The Kwakwaka'wakw Nations involved in the Central Coast process have also undergone their own organizational evolutions. When the Central Coast process began, the majority of these Nations chose to engage through existing Tribal Councils: the Kwakiutl District Council (KDC) and the Musgamagw Tsawataineuk Tribal Council (MTTC). The Tlowitsis Nation (TN), who is not affiliated with either of these Councils, participated as an independent Nation. Although all of the Nations are culturally related and share the same  17  language, the relationship was further solidified through the signing of joint agreements with the Province (e.g. MOU 1997) and the joint administration of the resultant provincial funding. This group of Kwakwaka'wakw Nations is consistently referred to as the KDC/MTTC/TN in the CCLRMP meeting minutes, further reinforcing their status as a collective planning coalition. Three of the four Nations that make up the Musgamagw Tsawataineuk Tribal Council left the Central Coast process between 1997 and 2005 and the Kwakwaka'wakw coalition changed its name to the KNT First Nation, an acronym that reflected its revised membership: the Kwakiutl District Council, „Namgis First Nation and Tlowitsis First Nation. The KNT First Nations signed the government-to-government agreements that led up to the Coastal Land Use Decision. It was not long after that they started to transition into the Nanwakolas Council, formally incorporating in 2007. In an effort to simplify subsequent references to these ever-changing institutional structures, I will generally refer to the Nanwakolas Council‟s organizational predecessors as the “southern First Nations” or the “southern First Nations planning coalition”. Occasional references are made to the “joint tribal councils”, the “KDC/MTTC/T” and the “KNT Nations”, especially when referring to the signing of formal protocol agreements. Somewhat similarly, I will also refer to “the Province” when discussing the political actions of the provincial government and will use lowercase (i.e. “the province”) when speaking of British Columbia as geographic entity. However, given that the dissertation represents a historical study of a multi-dimensional governance process, it is occasionally important to differentiate between the actions of the executive and administrative arms of the provincial government. Thus, references are also be made to the specific government entity (e.g. cabinet, individual ministries and ministers, etc). Research Focus and Scope As BC‟s longest running Strategic Land Use Planning process and one of the few to span the tremendous changes that were made to British Columbia‟s approach to integrated resource planning after the Delgamuukw and Haida decisions, the Central Coast Land and Resource Management Planning (CCLRMP) process emerges as a key site for the study of how land use planning and Aboriginal reconciliation processes are being brought into closer accord. This process of institutional intersection and change is approached through the experiences of the Nanwakolas Council: the only First Nation planning coalition that was formally involved throughout the entire CCLRMP process. Subsequent chapters explore both the  18  theoretical and methodological underpinnings of this research project, including a more expanded discussion of the case study approach and the rationale behind my selected case. The goal of this next section is to provide an orientation to the overall focus and scope of this research project: its purpose and questions, as well as the dissertation structure. Study Purpose and Research Questions The purpose of this case study of the Nanwakolas Council is to explore the evolutionary dynamics of government-to-government planning on the Central Coast. Attention will be paid to the institutionalization of the G2G relationships that were first established during the completion of the Central Coast LRMP: how these arrangements are incorporated into subsequent planning and the structures that are being created to support ongoing collaboration between First Nations and the Province. Furthermore, how are the informal norms, practices and procedures surrounding the governance of BC‟s natural resources changing as a result of the G2G relationship? Institutions and institutionalization are broadly defined and taken to include the development and implementation of a wide range of legal, political, financial, social and cultural arrangements and/or conventions. As an exploratory, qualitative case study, the research questions were somewhat fluid and were seen more as an entrée into the issues, as opposed to a strict agenda for research (see: Chapter 4 for a more expanded discussion). My guiding, or primary, research question relates to the dynamics of institutional change: the relationships between structure and agency; the micro and macro; the formal and the informal – or what I came to know as the hard and soft infrastructures of collaboration (Healey 2006). This more general question was sharpened through the development of subsidiary, case-specific questions: Guiding Question: How are collaborative resource planning arrangements between the Province of British Columbia and First Nations structured by provincial institutions and how do First Nations become active agents in institutional change? Subsidiary Questions: 1. How did the institutional interface between the Province and First Nations develop on the Central Coast and what were First Nations‟ experiences of the evolution of G2G? a. What were the antecedents of G2G and what kinds of formal and informal institutional changes were needed to allow it to proceed?  19  b. What kinds of barriers and opportunities (institutional or otherwise) did participating First Nations experience? How and why did these experiences change/remain the same as the G2G relationship solidified? 2. How did the Nanwakolas Council contribute to the development of a G2G arrangement, as well as larger processes of institutional change? a. How does it interact with provincial agencies? In what arenas and forums? Under what protocols, practices, norms and procedures? How are conflicting perspectives and expectations addressed and what kinds of changes occur as a result? b. What is the strategic importance of the Council? Do its provincial collaborators value and interpret its role differently? 3. What can be learned from the Nanwakolas Council‟s experiences, with respect to the creation and maintenance of appropriate institutions for G2G planning? a. What is the strategic importance of individual leaders, conveners and champions in the development of G2G? What can these individuals teach us about the skills and sensitivities needed to promote and sustain this kind of planning? b. What kinds of planning tools, techniques and procedures facilitate effective government-to-government planning? c. What are some of the characteristics of effective G2G decision-making forums? d. What are some of the legal, political and economic shifts that facilitate government-to-government planning? Dissertation Structure The dissertation begins with a review of the relevant literatures. Given that British Columbia‟s approach to integrated resource planning has long been framed as an exercise in collaborative decision-making, Chapter 2 examines how collaboration has been defined and researched in both the planning and natural resource management literatures. This literature review also examines how collaborative theory has been applied to the study of British Columbian Strategic Land Use Planning. Given that this more local body of literature makes minimal attempts to address and critically interrogate the relationship between Indigenous peoples and planning, the latter half of Chapter 2 examines how similar questions have been approached in other jurisdictions. These studies are united in their  20  assertion that collaborative planning efforts between Indigenous Peoples and the State cannot be limited to the design of joint decision-making structures. These relationships need to develop an awareness of and be attentive to the entire culture of Indigenous and nonIndigenous planning systems: “the ways, both formal and informal, that spatial planning… is conceived, institutionalized, and enacted” (Friedmann 2005: 184). This earlier research finding supports and gives rise to the theoretical perspective presented in Chapter 3. It provides a broad overview to institutional ideas that underlie and give shape to this research project, including how new institutional theory has been taken up in the planning literature. Particular attention is paid to the question of institutional change. As explained in the conclusion to Chapter 3‟s exploration of new institutional theory, the three results chapters (Chapter 5-7) are organized around and explore three propositions about the dimensions and drivers of institutional change. The data collection and analysis procedures used to generate these results are discussed in Chapter 4. In addition to providing a broad introduction to the various steps and stages of the Central Coast Land and Resource Planning (CCLRMP) process, Chapter 5 examines the role of “external shocks”: broader changes to the legal and political landscape that helped open the door for the development of a government-to-government planning model. Chapter 6 provides a detailed examination of the various protocol agreements that defined and created procedural guidance to support this new planning model. By grounding its analysis in Crawford and Ostrom‟s grammar of institutions (1995), it raises the question of the degree to which institutional change can be understood as a product of changing rules, norms and shared strategies. Chapter 7 addresses the less formal dimensions of institutional change, the inter-personal and inter-organization processes through which the different governance actors develop their intellectual, political and relational resources. The final chapter brings these three approaches to the study of institutional change back together and discusses the implications of the study for the theoretical literatures on collaborative and new institutional approaches to planning, as well as to the study of British Columbian and Canadian natural resource governance.  21  CHAPTER 2  Literature Review  Introduction Given that British Columbia‟s approach to Strategic Land Use Planning has long been framed as an exercise in shared decision-making (Owen 1998b), it is often linked to the literatures on collaborative planning and collaborative natural resource management. Both are grounded in the belief that deliberative processes have the potential to resolve conflicts and promote consensus-building and both are seen as a response to increased complexity, in terms of the knowledge, values and interests that shape urban, regional, and natural resource planning problems. Yet, it remains an open question as to how well these literatures understand and account for the sovereignty and self-determination of indigenous peoples. Collaborative planning has been described as a positive site for the exercise of indigenous self-determination (Lane & Hibbard 2005; Zaferatos 2004); cross-cultural learning about the legacies of colonialism; and the improvement of community relations (Dale 1999). It has also been interpreted as an avenue for deeply-embedded, exclusionary and oppressive power relations (Lane & Cowell 2001; Nadasdy 2003; Porter 2004a; Yiftachel & Fenster 1997), suggesting that collaborative planning scholars need to identify and critically analyze the political, organizational and discursive factors that facilitate and impede a respectful planning relationship with indigenous peoples. One of the primary goals of this chapter is to examine the scope and limitations of collaborative theory as it has been applied to the study of British Columbian Strategic Land Use Planning and to First Nation experiences of those processes, in particular. The chapter begins with a broad-based discussion of collaborative decision-making, as it has been developed in urban and regional planning and in natural resource management. Although these two bodies of literature are occasionally linked, the former provides a stronger foundation for critical analysis, as evidenced by the deficiencies observed in the current literature on Strategic Land Use Planning. These studies tend to be grounded in the resource management literature, which focuses on the development of guiding principles 22  and often omits the larger institutional variables. Equally important is the existing literature‟s widespread omission of Aboriginal experiences. Although the general lack of Aboriginal participation is mentioned in most of the existing studies, there is not enough comment on or contextualization of the systemic beliefs and practices that impede meaningful Aboriginal participation. This more critical commentary on collaborative planning with indigenous people is contained in the literature that is emerging out of other planning contexts and jurisdictions. As a result, the remainder of the chapter looks at some of the insights that have emerged out of this fledgling body of literature. It begins to raise questions about the analytical perspectives that are needed to address the complexities of collaborative planning with indigenous peoples: perspectives that are further explored in Chapter 3.  The Collaborative Turn in Land and Natural Resource Planning Collaborative decision-making is a perennial interest in the literature on urban, regional and natural resource planning and a subject that is interpreted through a variety of theoretical lenses and analytical scales. For some, collaboration refers to the “process through which parties who see different aspects of a problem can constructively explore solutions that go beyond their own limited version of what is possible” (Gray 1989: 5). Collaborative planning is positioned as interactive, deliberative processes aimed at building shared agreements and great attention is paid to the micro-dynamics of individual decision-making forums (Gunton & Day 2003; Moote et al. 1997; Schuett et al. 2001; Selin & Chavez 1995; Wondolleck & Yaffee 2000). Others situate collaboration within a more macro, structural context and draw attention to how these processes relate to broader notions of governance, power, and institutional capacity building (Healey 2007, 2006; Forester 1989; Innes and Booher 1999). This section begins with an overview of the collaborative or “communicative turn” in planning theory: a rejection of the rational-comprehensive model and a new way of thinking about planning processes and the roles of planning professionals. Since similar ideas have also been expressed in the resource management literature, it also includes a brief discussion of how collaboration has been theorized and evaluated in those contexts. Collaborative Planning Theory While many would start their analysis of collaborative planning theory with Forester and Healey‟s influential works, Planning in the Face of Power (1989) and Collaborative Planning: Shaping Places in Fragmented Spaces (1997), I would like to begin some 10 years 23  earlier with Friedmann‟s book, Retracking America: A Theory of Transactive Planning (1973). In essence, transactive planning is a “process of mutual self-discovery” (1973: 178) in which the processed (scientific) knowledge of the planner is fused with the personal knowledge of the client. Transactive planning recognizes that both forms of knowledge provide incomplete guidance for action and seeks to create a process by which their inherent weaknesses are proactively addressed through dialogue and interaction. The planner is seen to contribute core concepts, theories, new perspectives and systematic analytical procedures, while the client is able to provide intimate contextual knowledge, as well as a heightened sense of realism, feasibility, norms and priorities. It is a more humanist approach to planning that is grounded firmly in the principles of mutual learning. Drawing inspiration from Schön (1983; 1971) and his work with Argyris (1978; 1974), Friedmann expands on the idea of planning as mutual learning in Planning in the Public Domain (1987). Of great importance is Schön and Argyris‟s conceptualization of “doubleloop” learning (1978; 1974). Single-loop learning is described as basic problem-solving whereby the participants learn about the possible strategies for action. Double-loop learning is a more complex process in which the participants are also learning about and reconstructing the norms and values that underlie the proposed strategies for action. It is seen as a way of rectifying situations in which an organization‟s norms and values no longer address the challenges of the current environment. Friedmann (1987) asserts that doubleloop learning is needed in the development of more inclusive and, indeed, transformative planning processes. Still, he worries that the model is ambivalent to questions of power and manipulation, suggesting that organizational and social learning will only take us so far, unless we develop concrete strategies to counteract the oppressive exertion of power. It is at this junction that Healey‟s and Forester‟s adoption of both a pragmatic and critical approach to the study of planning practice and political deliberation are of great use, rescuing ideas of collaborative planning and mutual learning from naïve idealism.3 Drawing heavily on Habermas‟ theory of communicative action and the four claims-making structures that give meaning and context to speech acts (intention/trust, truth/knowledge, comprehension and consent/legitimacy), Forester animates the ways in which power enters  3  Ironically, naivety and excessive idealism are two of Forester‟s greatest criticisms (Fainstein 2000; Flyvbjerg 2002). Forester is well aware of oppressive power structures; his preference for practice simply drives him to focus on what can and should be done (2000).  24  into deliberative processes (1989). He stresses how all four structures are vulnerable to distortion and manipulation at three critical sites or moments in the planning process: decision-making, agenda-setting and shaping felt needs. Collaborative processes need to be seen not as benign sites of mutual learning, but rather as highly charged interactive processes that are particularly vulnerable to manipulative and exclusionary discourse. Forester‟s approach to power and communicative processes is largely shared by Healey. Her thoughts on the micro-dynamics of collaboration represent a re-working of ideas of mutual learning (Friedmann 1987; Schön & Argyris 1978; 1974) and communicative action. Healey views collaborative planning not simply as an exercise in interpersonal communication, but rather as a negotiation and translation of different discourses and frames of reference as diverse cultural groups4 construct their coexistence in shared spaces. Here we can begin to see the influence of related concepts, such as frame reflection (Schön & Rein 1994) and the creation of reflexive policy discourses (Hajer 1995), on the development of Healey‟s interdiscursive view of collaboration. Schön and Rein‟s work begins with the premise that intractable policy controversies are not the product of conflicting “facts” but rather conflicting frames: the “underlying structures of belief, perception and appreciation” (1994: 23) that shape interpersonal and institutional dialogue or discourse. Frame reflection, or the ability to recognize and consider alternative policy, institutional and metacultural beliefs and perspectives, is seen to enable the unblocking of policy stalemates by exposing potential sites for the synthesis of shared values and interpretations.5 Hajer‟s work on policy discourse analysis takes a similar approach; although he speaks not of frames, but rather chooses to adopt a much broader view of policy discourse, defining it as not solely a verbal exchange, but rather as the whole host of “ideas, concepts and categorizations… through which meaning is given to physical and social realities” (Hajer 1995: 44). He goes on to suggest that by developing a more concrete understanding of how certain policy discourses gain prominence and credibility, we can begin to reflect on how institutions might be designed to give more attention to the norms and values that underlie policy proposals. It‟s a goal that he believes might be partially  4  Healey adopts a very broad definition of culture: “the systems and frames of reference through which people in social situations shape their institutional practices” (1997: 37), which suggests that all attempts at multi-stakeholder or collaborative planning are inherently cross-cultural. 5  This process of re-framing is not entirely unlike interest-based negotiation (Fisher & Ury 1991), but it argues that it is not enough to simply talk of positions and interests and we need to consider the broader institutional and metacultural environments in which those interests are constructed.  25  addressed through the formation of concrete institutional arrangements for social inquiry aimed at uncovering the political and cultural choices underlying the proposed policy options. Hajer‟s work, along with that of Schön and Rein, has clear implications for collaborative planning. All three authors suggest that the study and design of decisionmaking processes must delve into the broader structures and frames of reference that shape attention and give meaning to the issues at hand: a challenge that Healey believes collaborative planning initiatives cannot afford to ignore. What is shared by all of these major works of collaborative, transactive and/or deliberative planning is that the analysis of the recent trend towards the development of arenas for mutual learning and collective decision-making should not be limited to its role in conflict management and consensus-building. Rather, it needs to be connected to the broader issue of how to transform knowledge into action (Friedmann 1987) in a world where knowledge, values and interests are increasingly fragmented. Collaboration needs to be seen as a response to modernity‟s dual crises of valuing and knowing (Friedmann 1973). It is a site for counteracting of distortion and reclaiming the ideals of deliberative democracy (Forester 1999; 1989) and a forum in which diverse stakeholders can “work out what it means to build new collective ways of thinking and acting, to re-frame and re-structure their ways of proceeding [emphasis original]” (Healey 1997: 312). Although all of the works that have been examined thus far have been developed in an urban context, planners working outside of the urban environment face similar challenges. Collaborative Ideas in Natural Resource Planning and Management Collaboration has become a prominent feature in natural resource planning and management. With strong links to alternative dispute resolution and organizational theory, this new form of natural resource management is often seen as a product of growing scepticism in the ability of government officials to adequately address the multiple claims and values placed on land and water resources. It is also described as a response to increased recognition that strictly science-based approaches are an insufficient response to the complexity and uncertainty surrounding the planning and management of natural systems (Wondolleck & Yaffee 2000; Cortner & Moote 1994). Unlike the urban and regional planning literature, resource management‟s collaborative turn has generally been conceived not as an exercise in transactive/mutual learning nor as a means for uncovering systemic distortion, but rather as an organizational response to increased complexity and the introduction of  26  new actors to the „problem domain‟ (Gray 1989). A common definition of collaboration found in natural resource management theory (e.g. Selin & Chavez 1995; Wondolleck & Yaffee 2000) is that of organizational theorist, Barbara Gray: “a process through which parties who see different aspects of a problem can constructively explore solutions that go beyond their own limited version of what is possible” (1989: 5). This definition of collaboration does not necessarily exclude the communicative planning school‟s call for transactive learning processes and explorations of the distorting effects of taken-for-granted practices, discourses and values. In fact, Gray (1994) has even sought to re-examine how her work on collaboration connects to similar trends in feminist theory, such as standpoint epistemology. It does appear, however, that this aspect of her work has been lost in its application to natural resource planning. Scholars of collaborative natural resource management (CNRM) emphasize the more descriptive and prescriptive elements of Gray‟s work. Taking their lead from her identification of the “three critical issues in collaboration: the preconditions that make collaboration possible and motivate stakeholders to participate, the process through which collaboration occurs, and the outcomes of the collaboration” (Wood & Gray 1991: 140), several authors have developed models to capture the entire lifecycle of the collaborative process. In a 1995 article, Selin and Chavez have described collaboration as being comprised of five distinct stages: antecedents; problem-setting; direction-setting; structuring; and outcomes, placing as much, if not more, emphasis on the process of collaboration as on the causes and outcomes of that process. Underlying their model is one of the most common principles of alternative dispute resolution and, by association, CNRM: “a good process produces a good outcome” (Susskind & Cruikshank 1987: 24). The second major body of research on collaborative natural resource planning explores this tenet through descriptive case studies that examine what constitutes a good process and how the development of procedural guidelines needs to be aware of both the barriers and opportunities for the development of a more collaborative approach. This line of research is exemplified in the book, Making Collaboration Work: Lessons from Innovation in Natural Resource Management (2000), which is the product of 10 years of research on collaboration in American natural resource management. Unwavering advocates of collaboration, Wondolleck and Yaffee‟s book is clearly meant to inspire resource managers who are considering the development of a collaborative process. The entire book is written in  27  a very accessible style that privileges the reflections of resource professionals and almost three-quarters of the book is devoted to the keys to successful collaboration. For example, successful collaborative processes need to build a shared vision; create new opportunities for interaction amongst diverse groups; adopt a more flexible and holistic mindset; foster a sense of responsibility and ownership; and mobilize sufficient resources (Wondolleck & Yaffee 2000). A mere chapter is dedicated to the exploration of the barriers to collaboration and the level of critical analysis fails to go much beyond superficial concerns such as a lack of financial resources and unfamiliarity with the process. Even when the identified barriers speak to broader institutional and discursive concerns (e.g. organizational norms and the participants‟ deep-seated perceptions of each other), there is a lack of understanding of how these barriers are connected to broader power and governance structures. The tendency to develop superficial prescriptions and to virtually ignore structural concerns is not unique to Wondolleck and Yaffee‟s work. In a review of the state of collaborative natural resource management theory, Gunton and Day (2003) are more concerned with the development of common criteria for the evaluation of collaborative processes and the development of universalist prescriptions than they are with a critical analysis of the ways in which power and hegemonic discourses can thwart the transformative potential of such processes. The shallowness of Gunton and Day‟s theoretical argument is particularly evident in their identification of the keys to successful collaboration, in that they fail to move beyond analytically thin prescriptions and rhetorically hollow arguments and are left making simplistic recommendations about the need for inclusive representation, accountability, clear ground rules and realistic timelines. By describing these keys to success as superficial, I do not mean to suggest that they are unimportant or unnecessary. But rather that their lack of specificity and reflection on issues of power and discourse domination suggest that they simply do not provide enough intellectual tools for a complete analysis of collaborative natural resource planning, as evidenced by its application to the study of British Columbian Strategic Land Use Planning.  Research on British Columbian Strategic Land Use Planning British Columbian Strategic Land Use Planning has generated a relatively large body of academic work. A group of scholars working out of Simon Fraser University (SFU)‟s School of Resource and Environmental Management have become a dominant voice in this literature, especially in more recent years. Led by Dr. Thomas Gunton, the Sustainable 28  Planning Research Group has conducted post-process evaluations of the majority of the province‟s integrated land use planning exercises, beginning with those led by the Commission on Resources and Environment (CORE). These investigations are bound together by a common methodology and similar research questions regarding the keys to a successful collaborative process (e.g. Frame et al 2004; Cullen 2006; McGee 2006). Other scholars, working in other departments and in other disciplines, are also contributing to the literature on Strategic Land Use Planning. Though many share the SFU research group‟s interest in the literatures on collaborative natural resource management and alternative dispute resolution (e.g. Jackson 1997), others approach their work through an entirely different theoretical frame. For example, Strategic Land Use Planning has been studied through the lens of new institutional theory (Syer 1998); community empowerment and capacity development (Ellis 2002; Parker 1998); adversarial science (Mortenson 2005); and political ecology (Clapp 2004). The intent of this section is not to undertake a comprehensive literature review, exploring all of the substantive research results and theoretical propositions, but rather to highlight a few key trends and outstanding research gaps. Given my interest in First Nations‟ experience of collaborative planning, I focus my attention on studies that are explicitly framed as investigations of the dynamics of shared decision-making. These studies are assessed using two basic criteria, drawn from my overall research purpose and questions (see: Chapter 1): a) how they acknowledge the distinct experiences and governance roles of indigenous peoples; and b) how they theorize about and accommodate larger governance processes, institutional structures, and power relationships. Although some of the more recent studies of British Columbian Strategic Land Use Planning have examined multiple processes (e.g. Frame et al. 2004; Jackson 1997), the literature is dominated by single case studies. Early case studies of the CORE plans and the first of the LRMPs (e.g. Wilson et al 2006; Day & Tamblyn 1998; Penrose et al. 1998) somewhat justifiably ignore First Nation experiences, as First Nations simply weren‟t involved or pulled out in the very early stages. These early studies focus on the evaluation of the actual decision-making process and express a strong interest in the representativeness, degree of trust, interaction and information exchange amongst the planning table participants. Occasional references are made to broader bureaucratic structures and political processes, but the underlying theoretical frame remains firmly focused on the design and facilitation of individual collaborative processes. No attention is paid to collaborative planning theory‟s proposition that broader discursive frames and established organizational practices need to  29  be brought into the analytical frame, given that these more macro-level structures can distort and define the overall quality and character of the collaborative process. Two notable exceptions are Ellis‟ 2002 dissertation on the Okanagan Shuswap LRMP and Parker‟s 1998 thesis on the Kamloops LRMP. Both of these studies assert that existing institutional variables need to be brought into the analysis of Strategic Land Use Planning. For example, Ellis (2002) draws connections between stakeholder empowerment and numerous external variables, including the broader political climate and bureaucratic culture. Rigid institutional structures and a tendency to resort to more traditional modes of resource planning and management were seen as inhibiting factors in both of these studies. Similar concerns are raised in Syer‟s 1998 thesis on the CORE plans‟ ability to successfully introduce new ideas and policy actors. He concludes: “CORE did not result in a paradigmatic shift in forest land use planning governance…Instead, the changes evident in the post-CORE network constitute a modest, 'meandering' shift framed largely within the context of British Columbia's traditional forest land use planning network and institutions” (Syer 1998: 138). Despite the existence of these more critical, multi-scalar perspectives, a significant proportion of the literature on British Columbian Strategic Land Use Planning is driven by collaborative natural resource management‟s quest for appropriate evaluative criteria. An early example of this kind of research is Jackson‟s 1997 dissertation, which employs a mixed method approach to the development of an evaluative framework for consensus-based natural resource planning. Using the existing literature on consensus decision-making and key informant interviews, Jackson compiled an initial list of “success factors” that were tested against participating stakeholders‟ perceptions and evaluations of the four CORE plans, as well as several of the early LRMPs. This empirical research led to the identification of what she saw as the top indicators of a successful collaborative process: integrity of the process (trust, fairness, etc); solid information (credibility, adequacy, etc); facilitator/neutral Chair; commitment of participants; explicit objectives; training; strategic communication (e.g. accountability to non-represented stakeholders); and government support. Jackson acknowledges that such indicators may mean different things to different people, but her overall analytical approach remains generally inattentive to the importance of such underlying policy and metacultural frames.  30  First Nation participants were included in her dataset, but their perspectives play a minor role in the overall analysis. Qualitative data obtained from the sole First Nations informant is referenced on several occasions in the dissertation, but the quotations are short and lack the narrative background needed to appropriately interpret why that individual had reservations about the planning process‟ timelines, for example. For the more quantitative elements of the study, the First Nation individual‟s responses are haphazardly combined with other kinds of participants (e.g. unionists) for which there was also only one respondent. Jackson acknowledges the problems inherent in this collapsing of categories, but only from a methodological standpoint. She is unreflective on the larger political ramifications of lumping First Nations in with other stakeholders, effectively negating issues of Aboriginal rights and title and perpetuating the erasure of Aboriginal peoples from mainstream policy and planning discourse. Jackson‟s study does include comments made by other stakeholders, regarding the need for effective Aboriginal participation. These comments illustrate a near complete lack of reflection on the part of the government conveners, as well as different stakeholder groups on why First Nations might be reluctant or have difficulty participating: All but one [of the nine comments on First Nations‟ participation] discussed the need for more first nations involvement, for example, "Ensure native participation. We sent letters, but you need to go in person", "We need substantial first nations input, not drop in, say hi and leave", "We need native involvement, but we've tried until we're blue in the face. They don‟t agree with the process", "It was a void in our process". "A big problem is the uncertainty of native land claims; it's a big black cloud hanging over the process, the lack of native participation". The only negative comment came from one Industry representative who scoffed "...and now they want Indians involved" (p. 189190). Jackson‟s response to these findings and her recommendations about how First Nations involvement might be improved only hint at the deeper institutional and cross-cultural issues at play. For example, she suggests that face-to-face meetings with First Nations would be more effective than written invitations to participate, but fails to connect this recommendation to the larger issue of designing an appropriate institutional interface between textual and oral cultures. Unfortunately, this failure to attend to First Nations‟ experiences and the conditions that facilitate effective Provincial-First Nation dialogue and decision-making are common omissions in the evaluative literature on BC‟s approach to Strategic Land Use Planning.  31  Gunton and his colleagues have also worked towards the development of evaluative criteria. Using the literature on CNRM, members of this research group (Frame et al. 2004; Frame 2002) identified 14 process and 11 outcome criteria (Table 2-1) that could be tested against stakeholder perceptions of the completed CORE and LRMP processes. Multiple questions were designed to test each criterion and were compiled into a mail-out survey that was sent to approximately 85% of the total number of participants from 17 different multistakeholder planning tables, of which approximately 35% responded. Not surprisingly, given that the research only included actual table members (i.e. those that had a substantial personal stake in the process and are most likely to defend its legitimacy and efficacy), Gunton‟s research group found that BC‟s collaborative approach to Strategic Land Use Planning was “a remarkable success in promoting agreement” (Frame et al. 2004: 74). The study reports over 60% agreement with all but one of the outcome criteria (conflict reduction) and suggests that the participants were generally satisfied with the procedural aspects of Strategic Land Use Planning. Strategic land use planning was also seen to have produced important long-term inter-personal and institutional assets, including “improved skills, improved knowledge and improved stakeholder relations” (Frame et al. 2004: 73). Yet, the results also suggest that these collaborative processes were less successful in terms of their ability to support equal opportunities to participate and be heard and equal access to resources. “Only 57% of the participants agreed that they had sufficient funding, and only 34% of participants agreed all interests or perspectives had an equal influence during the CP [collaborative planning] process” (Frame et al. 2004). The authors acknowledge that these results seem to contradict the high number of participants (78%) who reported that they felt their participation made a difference to the outcomes of the LRMP, but are inattentive to the different levels of distortion that are presented in Forester‟s work on communicative action. At no point do they acknowledge that while the actual decision-making process might have been relatively balanced and fair, the reported inequities might be an indicator that considerable distortion has occurred in agenda-setting and the shaping of felt needs. Thus, despite the authors‟ positive view of both the planning process and the planning outcomes, there is considerable reason to believe that the literature on British Columbian Strategic Land Use Planning would benefit from additional in-depth analysis and the adoption of a more critical analytical frame.  32  Table 2-1: Criteria for evaluating collaborative planning (Frame et al. 2004)  Process Criteria 1.  Outcome Criteria  Purpose & Incentives: Driven by a shared purpose and provides incentives to participate and work towards consensus.  1.  Agreement: Reaches an agreement accepted by parties  2. Inclusive Representation: All parties with a significant interest in the issues and outcomes are involved throughout the process.  2. Perceived as Successful: Process and outcome are perceived as successful by stakeholders.  3. Voluntary Participation & Commitment: Parties who are affected or interested participate voluntarily and are committed to the process.  3. Conflict Reduced: Reduces conflict.  4. Self-Design: Parties work together to design the process to suit the individuals‟ needs of that process and its participants.  4. Superior to Other Methods: Perceived as superior to alternative approaches.  5.  Clear Ground Rules: As the process is initiated, a comprehensive procedural framework is established including clear terms of reference and operating procedures.  6. Equal Opportunity & Resources: Provides equal and balanced opportunities for effective participation of all parties 7.  Principled Negotiation & Respect: Operates according to the conditions of principles negotiation including mutual respect, trust, and understanding.  8. Accountability: Process and its participants are accountable to the broader public, their constituents, and the process itself. 9. Flexible, Adaptive & Creative: Flexibility is designed into the process to allow for adaptation and creativity in problem solving. 10. High-Quality Information: Incorporates high-quality information into decision-making. 11. Time Limits: Realistic milestones and deadlines are established and managed throughout the process. 12. Commitment to Implementation & Monitoring: Clear commitments to implementation and monitoring. 13. Effective Process Management: effectively in a neutral manner.  Coordinated  and  managed  14. Independent Facilitation: Uses an independent trained facilitator throughout the process.  5.  Innovation & Creativity: Produces creative and innovative ideas and outcomes.  6. Knowledge, Understanding & Skills: Stakeholders gain knowledge, understanding, and skills. 7.  Relationships & Social Capital: Creates new personal and working relationships, and social capital among participants.  8. Information: Improves data, information, and analyses through joint fact-finding that stakeholders understand and accept as accurate. 9. Second-Order Effects: Changes in behaviours and actions, spinoff partnerships, umbrella groups, collaborative activities, new practices or new institutions. Participants work together on issues outside of the process. 10. Public Interest: Regarded as just and as serving the common good or public interest, not just those of the participants in the process. 11. Understanding & Support of Collaborative Planning: Results in increased understanding of, and participants support the future uses of collaborative planning.  33  The shallowness of the SFU research group‟s post-process evaluation of collaborative Strategic Land Use Planning is further compounded by its failure to disaggregate the responses by stakeholder type and to explore how traditionally marginalized groups, such as First Nations, evaluate their planning experience. Subsequent studies conducted by the SFU research group (Cullen 2006; McGee 2006) have tried to address this deficiency with mixed results. For example, Cullen (2006) tries to compare Native and non-Native table members‟ perceptions of the Central Coast LRMP using Frame‟s method and evaluative criteria. The standardized survey was sent to all of the members of the Completion Table, but this only amounts to three First Nation representatives (since single designates represented entire First Nation coalitions). Despite their lack of statistical significance (due to the small sample size), the results are expressed quantitatively using descriptive statistics. First Nations‟ level of satisfaction differed from other stakeholders in a number of key areas, including: how the different sectors were represented on the planning table; the level of participant involvement in the design of the process; the level of training and funding; the actual process outcomes and the resultant plan‟s ability to address the needs, values and concerns of their constituents. Cullen‟s research method does include follow-up telephone interviews with the three First Nation participants, which afforded opportunities to uncover what factors and forces underlay the survey results. For example, the telephone interviews draw attention to complications caused by the treaty process, as well as a lack of trust and planning capacity in their communities, but the significance, meaning and broader narratives surrounding these important factors are insufficiently developed. Wilson‟s (2005) professional project, completed in UBC‟s School of Community and Regional Planning, represents a more detailed examination of First Nations‟ involvement in the preparation of the Central Coast plan. After reviewing a range of archival documents, including draft plans and meeting minutes, the study concludes that many area First Nations were active participants in the planning process, contributing to all major discussions at the Completion Table and successfully used the process to exert “more influence on the final product for land use zoning, GMDs [general management directives], and the institutional arrangements for implementing the plans” (Wilson 2005: 127). Wilson is clearly aware that these results do not necessarily mean that this participation was fair and equitable and cites a lack of capacity, the potential to prejudice future treaty negotiations and incompatible planning methodologies as systemic barriers to First Nations‟ participation in LRMP processes (Bonnell 1997, as cited in Wilson 2005). But given the scope of her study and its  34  reliance on archival sources, she is unable to draw detailed conclusions about whether First Nations were satisfied with the process. Nor is she able to assess the degree to which these systemic barriers were present in the Central Coast case. This inability to appropriately contextualize the systemic barriers to meaningful Aboriginal participation in Strategic Land Use Planning represents a significant research gap in the literature. It is a gap that appears to be connected, at least in part, to the existing studies‟ reluctance to move beyond the confines of individual collaborative forums. When evaluating the collaborative planning processes and outcomes, more attention needs to be paid to larger governance processes and power relationships. As discussed in the previous chapter, this research project adopts a slightly different perspective. Its goal is not to evaluate the CCLRMP process, but rather to attempt to explore how certain policy and planning innovations came to fruition. That said, this kind of explanatory research still requires attentiveness to the range of discursive, organizational and material factors that shaped the Central Coast process, including those that were somewhat removed from the day-to-day work of the actual planning table. The small, but growing, body of literature on indigenous planning further reinforces the appropriateness and necessity of a multi-scalar and more critical approach to the analysis of indigenous experiences of collaborative processes.  Indigenous-State Collaboration: Lessons from Other Planning Contexts To help demonstrate some of the cultural, political and economic nuances that are undertheorized in the existing literature on British Columbian Strategic Land Use Planning, this final section examines the interface between indigenous peoples and state-based planning systems, as it has been written about in other jurisdictions and in other planning contexts. This interface is seen by some as an opportunity “to transform the institutional bases of indigenous subjugation and dependence” (Lane & Hibbard 2005: 182): a place to resolve conflicts and develop the capacities needed to share jurisdiction over indigenous peoples‟ custodial lands. At the same time, others are concerned that this interface may represent nothing more than a veiled attempt to “preserve and reproduce a pre-existing social order” (Yiftachel & Fenster 1997: 257) in which indigenous peoples are placed and kept outside of mainstream urban and regional development. As a result, indigenous peoples‟ experience of state-based planning processes in their traditional territories might best be described as a double-edged sword, with both progressive and regressive tendencies (Yiftachel et al. 2001; Yiftachel & Huxley 2000), or as having a “split personality” (Hibbard et al. 2008). This 35  dichotomy suggests that critical attention needs to be paid to the material and discursive conditions that give rise to indigenous peoples‟ uneven relationship with urban, regional and natural resource planning. Yet, as Hibbard and his co-authors note, there is only a “modest literature on indigenous planning” (2008: 136): an observation they believe seems to fly in the face of planning theory‟s long-standing interests in social justice and spatial equity (see, for example: Davidoff 1965; Fainstein 2000; Krumholtz & Forester 1990; Sandercock 1998b). That said, indigenous planning scholarship appears to be growing, as evidenced by at least two special issues of major planning journals (Progress in Planning 1997, Issue 4 & Planning Theory and Practice 2004, Issue 1). Although scholarship on planning‟s relationship to indigenous people includes voices from other countries and other colonial contexts, most of this literature has been developed in British settler-states: Canada, Australia, New Zealand and the United States. While most of these works examine the interface between indigenous peoples and „Western‟ planning systems, it is important to bear in mind that the “planning resolve” (Jojola 1998: 117) of indigenous communities is not solely a product of increased opportunities to becoming involved in state-based planning processes. Indigenous peoples have their own planning traditions that need to be better understood by the mainstream planning profession, especially when engaged in a collaborative planning process. Work has begun on documenting and “making visible” (Sandercock 1998a) these alternate modes of socio-spatial organization. Published accounts of indigenous planning cultures include: Mannell‟s inquiry into Inuit planning traditions (2006); Wolf‟s research on Diné (Navajo) planning (2004); and Jojola‟s study of the All Indian Pueblo Council‟s role in urban and regional planning (1998). While it is difficult and potentially wholly inappropriate to comment on the possibility of a distinct indigenous planning culture, or even planning cultures (as such a discussion could easily slip into the essentialization of indigenous identity)6, these works represent a significant challenge to many of the taken-for-granted assumptions of contemporary planning practice. For example, indigenous planning approaches challenge the reliance on detached, objective study (Jojola 1998; Mannell 2004;  6  Similar concerns are raised by Trosper (2006), who worries that characterizations of panindigenous and pan-scientific knowledge systems set up an unrealistic bifurcation, erasing the divisions and debates that exist in any knowledge system.  36  Wolf 2004)7 and the separation between fact and value, or science and ethics (Berkes 1993; Pierotti & Wildcat 2000). Instead, indigenous knowledge is often described as genealogical, handed down through creation stories and ancestral relations; revealed through spiritual dreams, visions and intuition (Battiste & Youngblood Henderson 2000; Castellano 2000). It is often seen to reside in the land, only revealing itself through a person‟s patterns of travel through their socio-spatial environment (Davidson-Hunt & Berkes 2003). As Porter (2007; 2004a; 2002) and Nadasdy (2003; 1999) observe, these epistemological and ontological differences present a serious challenge to collaborative planning efforts with indigenous peoples. Porter‟s work on environmental planning in Victoria, Australia (2007; 2004a; 2002) examines the link between colonial strategies of dispossessions and contemporary exclusions of indigenous aspirations and conceptions of space. Despite the fact that planning did not exist as a distinct profession until well into the nineteenth century, she asserts that the foundational strategies of modern state-based planning – naming and boundary delineation; surveying and mapping; selection and zoning – are colonialism‟s “earliest and most pervasive dispossession strategies” (2007: 469) and that these same strategies are used in contemporary environmental planning to define and control the landscape. Although Porter acknowledges that planning is beginning to undergo some significant shifts to include indigenous interests, she suggests that the Aboriginal “Other” is merely incorporated into the existing regulatory regime. For example, the Wadi Wadi people‟s claims were treated as a simple question of zoning. The exact location of culturally significant sites was to be pinpointed so that those areas could be zoned and excluded from forestry activities, in the same manner that one might establish a buffer around a sensitive riparian or nesting area. Although this kind of protective zoning might be a suitable mechanism for the acknowledgment of ecological values (although even that is questionable), it was completely incompatible with indigenous aspirations: In Wadi Wadi terms, [cultural] sites are positioned in a wider sense of connections between people, place, ancestors and law. Sites are not simply „dots on a map‟, as conceptualized in archaeological and planning terms, but  7  This tenet of Western planning practice has, of course, undergone several significant challenges, from Flybjerg‟s work on realrationalität (2002; 1998; 1996) to the study of communicative rationality (Forester 1993; 1989; Healey 1993). Still, „objective‟ study continues to inform much of contemporary planning practice, especially natural resource planning with its reliance on large inputs of biological, geological and socio-economic data.  37  are intimately connected with other features, to form landscapes of power, meaning and significance (Porter 2004a: 209). Porter‟s work suggests that despite the numerous “indigenous interruptions” (Porter 2002: 4), their voices and knowledge systems were merely filtered through a Western planning discourse, leaving its epistemological and ontological assumptions intact. Similar arguments are made in the Canadian context through Nadasdy‟s work on the Kluane people‟s experiences with the co-management of wildlife resources and in treaty negotiation processes in south-western Yukon (2003; 1999). Both of these processes (common features in the evolving relationship between Aboriginal peoples and the Canadian state) are seen as mixed blessings that often lead to major gains and improvements in the lives of Aboriginal people but also require them to participate under conditions not of their own making. His work traces the numerous ways in which the Kluane people had to conform to the specific language and discourses of science-based resource management and to European notions of property and title so that their claims would be heard and properly understood. Aboriginal people must present and justify their knowledge in terms of the existing categories and bureaucratic divisions of natural resource management and, since they traditionally had no corresponding categories for activities such as forestry and mining, they are often assumed to have little valuable knowledge on these „modern‟ topics and divisions of natural resource management (Nadasdy 1999). Of equal importance are the more subtle ways in which indigenous knowledge is „lost in translation‟. “A whole array of stories, values, social relations and practices, all of which contribute substance and meaning to aboriginal people‟s relationship to the environment must be distilled out…before it can be incorporated into the institutional framework of scientific resource management” (Nadasdy 1999: 7), with its insistence on what Latour (2004) would refer to as the bicameralism of fact and value. In light of this distillation and compartmentalization of indigenous knowledge, Nadasdy condemns the current tendency to speak of „integrating‟ it into state-based resource planning and management processes. To speak of integration, without critically analyzing the power relations that determine how those processes are structured, what knowledge will be admitted and how it will be legitimated, “may well be reinforcing, rather than breaking down, a number of Western cultural biases that in the end work against full [Aboriginal] community involvement in managing local land and wildlife” (Nadasdy 1999: 2).  38  These deeply embedded power relations are not solely the product of cultural biases; they are also material. As Lane and Cowell suggest, the achievement of a respectful co-planning relationship needs to include critical reflection on how “the power of developmentalism” (2001: 156) is used to legitimize and marginalize indigenous rights and interests. Here, the authors are referring to their investigation into the planning of an Australian mine in which the project‟s perceived economic importance expedited the process such that the local Aboriginal community‟s participation was initially limited to the identification of cultural sites. Aboriginal rights were constructed as a barrier to economic growth that needed to be contained and sterilized. What all of these authors seem to be suggesting is that we need to move beyond superficial treatments of the ways in which planning processes might include and empower indigenous peoples and give serious consideration to “the realpolitik of land and natural resource planning” (Lane & Cowell 2001: 158) and its micro-technologies of power (Porter 2004a). Their works destabilize the idea that planning and other natural resource management efforts are “a neutral backdrop, an apolitical container, an array of objective technical as well as non-technical solutions” (Porter 2004a: 133). These solutions are, instead, part of a broader discursive regime that constructs natural resource planning as an agent of economic development (Lane & Cowell 2001); as the balancing of utilitarian and romantic/preservationist goals through the practice of zoning (Porter 2007; 2004a); and as a science-based process that, despite the rhetoric of ecosystem-based management, is dependent on the distillation and compartmentalization of complexity into discrete components (fisheries, forests, minerals, wildlife, etc) that can be subjected to specific prescriptions and tangible policies (Nadasdy 2003; 1999) – to name just a few of the discourses and practices that need to be critically interrogated when attempting to achieve a respectful co-planning relationship with indigenous peoples. Yet, as the existing research also shows, the marginalization of indigenous peoples can also be overt. Successful planning with indigenous peoples requires addressing the organizational and socio-economic constraints. For example, it requires the establishment of a clear political mandate regarding the need to support indigenous rights and title (Berke et al. 2002); the creation of open-ended forums for learning and exchange (Dale 1999; Kliger & Cosgrove 1999; Zaferatos 2004); the presence of skilful facilitators (Dale 1999); and the allocation of sufficient time and resources to support the development of new planning skills and sensitivities (Berke et al. 2002; Zaferatos 2004). These more procedural issues suggest  39  that collaborative natural resources management is not a wholly inappropriate theoretical frame for the study of indigenous peoples‟ experience of collaborative planning processes. But it cannot be the only theoretical frame. These more instrumentalist models need to be combined with rigorous critical analysis that attends to the larger discursive and material regimes that give rise to the “split personality” (Hibbard et al. 2008) of state-based attempts to collaborate with indigenous peoples.  Summary By examining the scope and limitations of the existing research on British Columbia‟s approach to collaborative land use planning, this chapter has identified the need for additional, in-depth study, particularly with respect to the experiences of participating First Nations. With the shift towards survey-based evaluations of Strategic Land Use Planning processes, the literature appears to have become more concerned with the development of instrumentalist, micro-level models of how to make collaboration “work” (Wondolleck & Yaffee 2000) than rigorous theories of structural constraints and transformative potential. Not only do these studies exhibit several questionable methodological choices (e.g. adopting a survey-based approach for small-n case study research; using participants‟ self-evaluations as the sole measure of „success‟), but they would also benefit from the application of a more critical theoretical stance. The narrowness of the existing literature is particularly striking in its occasional discussion of First Nations‟ relationship to Strategic Land Use Planning. In fairness, the underlying goal of most of this literature was not to investigate First Nations participation, but rather the more general dynamics of shared decision-making. However, even the three studies that expressed a clear interest in the role and experience of Aboriginal peoples (Cullen 2006; McGee 2006; Wilson 2004) have only scratched the surface in terms of exploring collaborative planning processes‟ ability to address Aboriginal interests and aspirations. With the exception of Wilson‟s acknowledgement of potentially incompatible planning methodologies, little attention is paid to the idea that the achievement of a more equitable planning relationship may require a more fundamental re-examination of the assumptions, discourses and power relationships that underlay Strategic Land Use Planning. According to the fledgling body of literature on indigenous planning, the roots of Aboriginal peoples‟ dissatisfaction with state-based planning has less to do with instrumentalist questions of process design and more to do with underlying discursive and politicaleconomic structures. Ensuring appropriate levels of funding, creating strong mandates, and 40  engendering sustained interactions and exchange are most certainly important, but the real locus of change lies well beyond the confines of organizational and process design. Effective collaborative planning with indigenous peoples seems to demand critical reflection on the range of assumptions and discursive practices that underlay contemporary natural resource planning practice. Although this particular study will not attempt to address the ontological and epistemological issues expressed in these works, the existing literature on the interface between indigenous peoples and state-based planning systems does call attention to the importance of developing a multi-scalar analytical approach that is attentive to deeper structural issues. Urban and regional planning theory‟s conceptualization of collaborative planning practice, with its attention to mutual learning, frame reflection and inter-discursive and cross-cultural communication, appears to be better equipped to deal with the complexities of indigenous planning than its resource management counterparts. What has yet to be explored is how collaborative planning theory has engaged with other social theories to present a more complete picture of the relationships between structure and agency; the micro and macro; the formal and the informal – or what is presented in the next chapter as the hard and soft infrastructures of collaboration (Healey 2006).  41  CHAPTER 3  The Intersection of New Institutional and Planning Theory: Towards an Analytical Frame  Introduction In order to address the identified gaps in the existing literature on BC‟s approach to Strategic Land Use Planning and its treatment of Aboriginal experiences, in particular, my research project grounds itself in the language of institutions – more specifically, in the language of new institutionalism. “New Institutionalism” is the phrase normally attached to the social sciences‟ renewed interest in the role and importance of institutional structures: a reworking of existing ideas in political, economic and sociological theory (March & Olsen, 1984; Powell & DiMaggio, 1991). Each of the major social sciences went through an early institutionalist phase, eventually falling out of fashion in favour of more behaviouralist and interpretative approaches that emphasized human agency and de-emphasized the influence of societal structures (March & Olsen, 1984; Crawford & Ostrom 1995). Economics, political science and sociology have all since rediscovered the importance of institutions, developing their own versions based on their primary areas of interest and disciplinary perspectives. The chapter begins with a brief discussion of the central tenets and foci of these three streams of new institutional thought. My goal is not to present a comprehensive analysis, but rather to orient the reader to key variations in the intellectual terrain of new institutional theory. The chapter then moves into a discussion of how new institutional theory has been applied to planning scholarship. Finally, I suggest additional theories and conceptual frameworks that might support and enhance this growing body of literature.  A Brief Survey of New Institutional Theory Structure-agency interactions are a persistent theme in social research and one that underlies the transition from „old‟ to new institutionalism. Giddens‟ work on social structuration (1984) is one of the most commonly cited theories of the relationship between social (discursive and material) structures and human agency. Central to his work is the  42  question of whether individuals and organizations are the objects of wider social forces whose actions are, in turn, shaped and constrained by these forces or whether they are able to use their agency to subjectively interpret and shape the world around them. Giddens argues that neither proposition offers a complete account of the constitution of society and proposes that the dualism of objectivity and subjectivity needs to be reconceived as a duality. He neither rejects Marxian ideas about the power of political economic structures nor does he ignore the work of phenomenologists and social interactionists who see the world as the product of human action and interpretation. Instead, Giddens‟ proposes a duality of structure: structure is both “the medium and the outcome of the conduct it recursively organizes; the structural properties of social systems do not exist outside of action but are chronically implicated in its production and reproduction” (Giddens 1984: 374). Structure is not seen as something „out there‟ that looms over human activity, but rather as something that manifests itself in human action and in the routines of daily life. Likewise, institutions are not necessarily readily recognizable entities, but rather expressions of the most deeply embedded societal structures. Although it is not my intention to delve into the intricacies of these debates in social theory, it is important to note that Giddens is not the only sociologist to re-examine structureagency interactions. He has been criticized for failing to adequately “disentangle the interplay between structure and agency” (Archer 1995: 307). Archer rejects Giddens‟ idea that structure and agency are co-constitutive and, hence, analytically inseparable. She suggests that social structuring is a morphogenetic process whereby emergent structural properties can exist independently of the activities of agents, making it is possible to trace how “each new generation of agents either reproduces or transforms its structural inheritance” (1995: 307). Although neither of these sociological theories is generally linked to new institutional thought, they do provide some useful conceptual tools and they do resonate with many of the themes and areas of debate in this growing body of literature. New institutionalist theory is commonly categorized into three streams: historical institutionalism, rational choice institutionalism and sociological institutionalism (Hall & Taylor 1996; Alexander 2005; Lecours 2005). All three share the view that institutions are more than formal rules, norms and material structures (Powell & DiMaggio, 1991) and cannot be treated as autonomous structures, independent of human agency (March & Olsen,  43  1984). The differences between the streams occur in the definition of institutions and the treatment of the drivers of human action and of institutional change:    historical institutionalists adopt a more materialist definition of institutions, often equating them to the formal rules that govern political-economic interactions; contemporary actions are the products of history and previous decisions (e.g. path dependence); and the main mechanism of institutional change is “external shock”    rational choice institutionalists view institutions as both the material and intangible parameters that structure and constrain the behaviour of rational actors; actions are the product of the “weight” of institutions on individual and collective decisionmaking processes; institutions are a context rather than an autonomous force and actors maintain the power to change their institutional environment when it generates sub-optimal results    sociological institutionalists blur the line between culture and institutions by defining institutions not simply as the tangible and intangible rules and structures that shape behaviour, but also as the cognitive norms, values and ideas that define perceptions and notions of rational action; institutional change is the product of the convergence of two or more coexisting institutions (Lecours 2005)  Although this particular typology is common in the literature, some scholars prefer to categorize the various forms of institutionalist thought according to the disciplines in which they first arose. Historical institutionalism has been referred to as economic institutionalism and rational choice has simply been called political institutionalism (Powell & DiMaggio 1991). This disciplinary-based typology is not completely accurate, as there is a significant cross-pollination and hybridization of ideas between the traditional social sciences, leading to the emergence of additional typologies. Others reduce the divisions even further by noting that the division between the different schools of new institutionalist thought is essentially an ontological question – whether they apply “rationalist notions of individual actors” or if they treat “interests and preferences, transaction processes and costs as multi-facetted and socially-constructed” (Healey 2007: 9).  Towards an Analytical Frame All three streams of new institutional theory have had a direct impact on contemporary planning thought, as evidenced by the diverse collection of articles in Niraj Verma‟s edited book, Institutions and Planning (2007). Yet, there is still considerable debate as to what stream of new institutional theory is most useful to planning scholars. For example, Healey argues that sociological institutionalism is “particularly productive for examining how planning processes are institutionally situated” (2007: 67). This belief appears to have been shaped by her long-standing work on the communicative and collaborative dimensions of 44  planning (see: Chapter 2), which shares sociological institutionalism‟s interest in the social construction of preferences, norms and rationalities. Alexander, on the other hand, asserts that a blend of rational choice and sociological institutionalism is a more productive combination, arguing that “the former provides useful models and rigorous analytical methods and tools, while the latter can complement these with a theoretical foundation for analyzing and inferring individual and collective preferences and values” (2005: 213). When I began this particular research project, I did not have a well-defined perspective on the merits and limitations of the different streams of new institutionalist thought. I initially gravitated towards Healey‟s evolving institutionalist perspective on collaborative planning. Yet, I also position myself as an interdisciplinary scholar and am interested in the intersection and hybridization of diverse and seemingly divergent schools of thought. Thus, in addition to the more substantive research questions presented in Chapter 1, this research was driven by a more academic interest in how the different streams of institutionalist thought can be applied to the study of a cross-cultural and inter-governmental approach to natural resource planning. This search for an appropriate analytical frame was approached with a great deal of caution and humility. Given that planning has been described as an applied social science and as an interdisciplinary or even transdisciplinary endeavour (Friedmann 2008), my goal is not to engage in the new institutional debates and discussions as they occur in the traditional social science disciplines. Following Friedmann, I see this work as an exercise in theoretical “translation” (2008: 255): a consideration of how new institutionalist theories might expand and illuminate both the opportunities and the vulnerabilities in professional planning practice. These exploratory and translatory roles are eloquently, and somewhat humorously, described in a recent paper by John Friedmann: I see planning theorists actively engaged in mining expeditions into the universe of knowledge, on the lookout for concepts and ideas they believe to be of interest in planning education. Their specific contribution to theory is to return from these expeditions to home base and translate their discoveries into the language of planning where they will either take root or be unceremoniously forgotten (2008: 255). My mining exploration begins with a discussion of how planning theory has engaged with and incorporated the social sciences‟ renewed interest in institutions. Patsy Healey is positioned as one of the predominant voices in this emerging body of literature. Although she consistently asserts the importance of attending to both formal and informal  45  institutional structures, her conceptualization of the dynamics of institutional change places more attention on the social interactions between the different governance actors and only provides cursory guidance in regards to the analysis of formal institutional structures. As a result, my search for an appropriate analytical frame steps away from the established planning literature and looks at how other new institutional theories have addressed the question of institutional change. The final section examines how these insights will be applied to the empirical chapters that follow. The Intersection of New Institutional and Planning Theory Reflecting on the state of contemporary political science, Pierson and Skocpol assert “we are all institutionalists now” (2002: 706). The same might also be said of planning scholars. For although Verma‟s edited collection on Institutions and Planning was not released until 2007, institutions have been a long-standing area of interest in contemporary planning theory. In fact, as Innes boldly asserted in a 1995 book review, the entire field of planning might be considered as an exercise in institutional design. Although the idea that planners are intimately involved in the development of formal and informal norms, rules and codes of behaviour would have intuitively resonated with both scholars and practitioners, the idea that “planning is institutional design” (Innes 1995) was insufficiently theorized by both Innes and other authors writing in the mid-1990s. For example, Bolan (1996) attempted to develop a set of principles to guide institutional design, highlighting the need to consider underlying goals and the mechanisms that encourage desirable behaviour as well as pragmatic operational concerns such as ease and efficiency. But this work was much too imprecise to be of much analytical, or even normative, use. For although the role and appropriateness of normative research is an area of contention in the planning literature (see, for example: Forester 2000; Yiftachel & Huxley 2000), new institutional planning research is generally recognized to be both a critical-analytical and a normative endeavor. Recognized to be one of planning‟s earliest adopters of new institutional theory (Verma 2007), Ernest Alexander defines institutional analysis as an explanatory project, whereas institutional design is the addition of a normative dimension to “the devising and realization of rules, procedures, and organizational structures” (2005: 213). He is quick to note that there is “an intimate reciprocal interaction” (2005: 211) between the two – a point that will be revisited in the next sub-section. To help clarify his argument, Alexander suggests that institutional design takes place on three levels: i) macro-societal processes and institutions  46  (e.g. constitutions, legal codes, political-administrative structures); ii) meso-level processes aimed at planning and implementing these macro-level structures through interorganizational networks, policies, projects and plans; and iii) the work of micro-level teams, committees and task forces, often charged with soliciting public opinion and mediating conflict. When thinking about the possibility of the planner as an institutional designer, he argues that the meso-level is the primary object of his or her attention, which unfortunately downplays planners‟ increasing role as both facilitators and participants in transactive and collaborative processes (see: Chapter 2). Nonetheless, Alexander‟s work underscores the importance of attending to the different scales of institutional interaction. This aspect of his work resonates with that of Patsy Healey, who is recognized to be another important contributor to the intersection of new institutional and planning theory and who has been praised for her “encyclopedic style” (Verma 2007: 2). Unlike some communicative planning scholars, whose work focuses on actions at the level of individual planning processes, Healey‟s new institutionalist writing explores the possibility that significant changes need to be initiated at other levels of governance as well. As will be discussed, this more recent turn continues to express a strong interest in the normative principles and criteria that “help distinguish between [a collaborative process] which genuinely widens discussion arenas to include many different claims and voices and those that merely provide more sophisticated ways for elite groups to dominate policy definition and implementation or merely to maintain old agendas recast in new clothing” (Healey 1999: 119). However, it has a stronger and more multi-dimensional analytical edge. New institutionalist theory is seen to provide “a vocabulary through which to search for the multiple claims and voices that may be asserted about a place (the conceptions of relational webs and social worlds) and to help identify the challenges and pressures that those concerned about place qualities may have to face (the conceptions of structure-agency relations)” (Healey 1999: 119). Although the dynamics of institutional change appear to be a more recent area of investigation (see: de Magalhães et al. 2002; Healey 2007; Healey et al. 2003, Healey et al. 1999), Healey‟s more general interest in institutional analysis can be traced back to her influential book, Collaborative Planning: Shaping Places in Fragmented Societies (1997). Though it was criticized for being too normative and prescriptive (Twedwr-Jones & Allmendinger 1998), Healey reflects on her book‟s intellectual project in more exploratory and analytical terms: 47  The aim of the book was to ground the discussion of [planning] process forms in the context of economic, social and environmental dynamics and their translation into institutionalized governance processes. I sought to suggest an approach to evaluating process forms, in terms of their potential material consequences and effects on people‟s sense of themselves (their identity). I hoped to expand the critical imaginative range of those designing new process forms beyond the well-known possibilities of manipulative politics, the rational-technical process, top-down command-and-control practices and bureaucratic rule-governed behaviour (2003: 107). In doing so, Healey uses the final sections of Collaborative Planning (1997) to highlight the types of questions that need to be raised when trying to promote collaboration. She asserts that attention must be paid to both the “hard and soft infrastructure” of collaboration – the structural system of laws and procedures and interactive sites where social, intellectual and political capital (Innes & Booher 1999) are built and reformulated. Her definition of soft infrastructures focuses on how inclusive and interactive argumentation can be supported amongst a multitude of social actors and networks. The design of these processes is seen to involve a critical look at: the range of affected stakeholders; the formal and informal arenas through which claims are made and policy principles are developed; the organizational routines and discussion styles; how policy discourse is made and taken for granted; and how consensus is formalized and maintained. It is her belief that this kind of reflection is revealing of both opportunities and threats. It allows political communities to take a more pragmatic approach to the design of collaborative processes, tailoring them to their specific configuration of “social relations and political possibilities” (Healey 1997: 282). Healey is well aware that her analysis of interactive strategy-making may seem overly optimistic, or perhaps even completely unrealistic, in certain governance contexts. As a result, the final chapter of Collaborative Planning is concerned with the formal structures and governance styles that facilitate such consensus-building processes: the hard infrastructures of collaborative planning. Hard infrastructures, or the rules and resources of a policy or planning system, are parsed out into three basic categories or questions: 1. Nature and distribution of rights and duties: how the relationships between and responsibilities of the different governance actors are defined to create a structure that encourages and values citizen engagement; balances property and public interests; and allows citizens to call governance systems into account 2. Control and distribution of public resources: how resources are allocated to maintain quality of life; facilitate the exercise of citizenship rights; provide redress; and ensure high quality information 48  3. Distribution of governance competencies: how governance tasks are divided and distributed amongst the levels of governance; the boundaries between the formal government, corporate and civil society; how knowledge and expertise are developed and deployed; and how disputes are resolved (Healey 2006). Yet, as Healey clearly asserts, the full power and meaning of these three basic types of hard infrastructures is often a product of the larger political, legal and administrative culture. Governance actors‟ “claims for rights, or redress due to the neglect of duties, or for the unfair allocation of resources” (Healey 2006: 305) will inevitably be interpreted and evaluated according to the dominant governance culture: its values, discourses and normative criteria. Although it was not clearly articulated in the first edition of Collaborative Planning, this discussion of hard and soft infrastructures suggests that collaborative planning evokes different levels of decision-making and that it is misguided to focus on a single level. Drawing on a Foucauldian reinterpretation (Dyrberg 1997) of Lukes‟ (1974) classic study of the pathways of political power, Healey‟s more recent writing presents planning processes as a series of inter-connected levels of governance interaction (2007; 2006). Though they were originally presented in tabular form, I prefer to think of the levels diagrammatically (Figure 3-1): a nested hierarchy of institutional structures and relations. The collaborative “episode” refers to the more visible interactions and relationships that determine the overall character of a multi-stakeholder planning process: who is present, in what capacity, and acting according to what established ground rules. The mobilization of bias refers to the policy networks, agendas and discourses that shape, change and perhaps even constrain day-to-day interactions and specific planning decisions. The mobilization of bias is, in turn, affected by embedded assumptions and habits: the accepted modes of governance and range of social values that shape and legitimize the knowledges that are brought into the collaborative process and help explain why some discourses, practices, and stakeholder coalitions gain traction over others.  49  Figure 3-1: An institutional approach to collaborative planning (adapted from: Healey 2007; 2006)  Healey (2007) applies her institutional approach to the study of urban governance in Newcastle, England. She concludes that meaningful and sustainable institutional changes occur when all three levels shift in a similar direction. For example, her analysis points to an important convergence between the emergence of new actors and discursive consultation processes and the influence of broader structural changes in the economic sector and in the public‟s expectations of government. Somewhat similarly, her 2004 article on the kinds of institutional arrangements that facilitate creativity and innovation also emphasizes the relationship between specific episodes and the long-term transformation of governance processes and cultures. She explores the specific kinds of transformations that will need to occur at each level of interaction so that urban governance institutions are better able to respond and adapt to new contexts and new pressures. For example, Healey (2004) argues that specific governance episodes need to be stimulating, respectful and welcoming; governance processes need to be open-minded and experimental; and governance cultures need to embrace diversity and focus on performance instead of rule-based notions of conformance: statements that draw attention to deeply normative dimensions of Healey‟s work.  50  Underlying Normative and Evaluative Criteria Healey‟s approach to the study of collaborative planning draws on value perspectives expressed in the literature on procedural, environmental and social justice. Each level of governance interaction is open to a number of value judgments – judgments that have the potential to promote and direct alternative, arguably more inclusive, planning practice. The right-hand side of Figure 3-1 depicts some of the normative perspectives. Healey evokes words like fairness, openness, and responsiveness – all admirable traits, which are common enough democratic values that they form a reasonable standard to which all planning processes can be held to account (Flyvbjerg 2002). Although this research project is primarily driven by an analytical interest in how institutions function and change, rather than a normative interest in the improvement of existing and emergent institutional structures (see: Chapter 1), it cannot completely divorce itself from such value-based questions. My exploration of political and legal theory‟s treatment of the markers of a just relationship with indigenous peoples was an influential step in terms of preparing for this particular research project. These theories are part of the intellectual frames and biases that underlie my work and that need to be explicitly acknowledged. Thus, it is important to give some consideration to how the normative dimensions of Healey‟s work might need to be altered to better reflect the principles and criteria contained in the growing body of literature on Aboriginal-State relations. Given Canada‟s colonial history, along with its relatively recent interest in reconciling its relationship with Aboriginal peoples, a number of political theorists and legal scholars are working to establish a framework for tackling the question of indigenous justice in governance relations. While much of this discussion is couched in the language of constitutional and treaty rights, others are taking a much broader view grounding their ideas in political pluralism (Schouls 2003) and the „mutual recognition of difference‟ (Tully 2000; 1995). Both of these models are grounded in two fundamental principles: Aboriginal selfdetermination and the coexistence between Aboriginal and settler societies. As demonstrated elsewhere (Tully 1995), these concepts are not only highly significant to Canada‟s Aboriginal peoples, but also conform to long established notions of nationhood and international diplomacy in the Western political tradition, making them an appropriate analytical guide.  51  Self-determination generally refers to the right of all peoples to determine their own political futures (Kingsbury 2000). Included in this formulation is the ability to independently develop economic, cultural and social institutions, as well as the ability to define relationships with other self-determining peoples (Thornberry 2000). For many indigenous peoples, to be self-determining is not simply to possess the legal instruments and the level of political recognition needed to guide their own affairs, but it is also part of a much larger process of decolonization, healing, mobilization and transformation “across a range of psychological, social, cultural and economic terrains” (Smith 1999: 116). Secession is generally not on the political agenda of most indigenous groups (Fleras 2000; Thornberry 2000), meaning this journey towards self-determination ultimately needs to include an analysis of how indigenous people might coexist with the postcolonial states within which they reside. For many Aboriginal peoples, one of the most powerful images of coexistence between Aboriginal and settler societies is the two-row wampum. Drawn from Haudenosaunee history and teachings, it is often used in the writings of Aboriginal scholars (Alfred 1995; Borrows 2000; McGregor 2004; Woodworth, as cited in Peters 2003), as well as in the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples (1996c). The two-row wampum is a beaded belt with two rows of purple separated by rows of white that has long been used as a symbol for the respect and recognition of Aboriginal nationhood and was a key feature in some of earliest alliances and  treaties between Aboriginal and  colonial representatives. The conventional  interpretation of the two-row wampum is that the purple rows represent the vessels of the colonial representatives and the First Nation as they travel side-by-side down the river of existence (the white beads). The fact that the purple rows never meet is often seen to suggest that the two cultures should not interfere with each other‟s journey, while the placement of the two vessels on the same river is seen to underscore the importance of peace, trust and friendship (Borrows 2000; McGregor 2004; Peters 2003). While not refuting the conventional reading of the two-row wampum, Borrows‟ interpretation places greater emphasis on the shared waters of the vessels, noting that there is a similar ecology to contemporary politics and national relations: “there is no land or government in the world today that is not connected to and influenced by others” (2000: 79). Governance is not a question of parceling out areas of non-indigenous and indigenous jurisdiction (Fleras 2000), but about being clear about where those interests, rights and responsibilities converge and diverge and about developing mechanisms for coexistence, conflict resolution and joint strategy-making in the river of shared existence. 52  Tully, a well-respected political theorist and a great influence on the Royal Commission (Tully 2000; Canada. RCAP 1996b), provides some of the normative guideposts for this new governance relationship. Reflecting on a well-known Haida sculpture8, Tully notes how the thirteen passengers of the sculpture‟s canoe all seem to be vying for positions, often facing different directions and sometimes teetering on the edge of the boat. Yet “the paddles are somehow in unison and they appear to be heading in some direction” (1995:28). The image serves as a metaphor for thinking through how deep cultural differences might be recognized and reconciled within a political community. The recognition of these differences is not seen to be incompatible with the creation of a sense of unity and a common policy direction, provided we develop appropriate conventions to guide the character of this political relationship (Tully 1995). His more recent work (2000) identifies five such principles: mutual recognition; intercultural negotiation; mutual respect; sharing; and mutual responsibility. The Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal parties involved in any governance arrangement need to mutually recognize each other as “equals, co-existing side by side and governing themselves according to their own laws and institutions” (Canada. RCAP 1996b: 678). Of equal importance are the parties‟ interdependence and the development of mechanisms to facilitate a respectful co-existence, leading to the second principle of intercultural dialogue. Here, we are urged to enter into a state of negotiation, as consenting equals, committed to finding common cultural ground. Cultural identities are not seen as rigid, impermeable structures and different worldviews are not assumed to be incommensurable, although power differentials need to be recognized as real concerns in need of concrete attention. Difference is not a deficiency and mutual respect needs to be accorded to other languages, cultures and governance systems. At the same time, we are urged to recognize that like the thirteen figures depicted in the sculpture, we are all in the same canoe and need to create relationships based on harmony, balance and sharing, fostering a sense of mutual responsibility to each other and the land that we share (Tully 2000). This focus on relationships is further developed by Schouls (2003) through his examination of the connections between Aboriginal identity and pluralist political thought and his development of a framework referred to as relational pluralism. Relational pluralism is a 8  The sculpture is “The Spirit of Haida Gwaii” by Bill Reid, located outside the Canadian Embassy in Washington.  53  dynamic and malleable approach that focuses its attention on the quality of political relationships, as opposed to the legal and policy instruments through which they are created and maintained. It is about securing Aboriginal peoples‟ ability to self-determine the nature of their relationships, to establish boundaries and to participate in the exercise of shared jurisdiction, free from all forms of domination, marginalization and oppression (Young 1990). The formation of boundaries is a key concept in Schouls‟ work in that the security of Aboriginal peoples‟ identity is not assumed to lie in the static preservation of their status as a culturally distinct people, but rather in their ability to establish the boundaries of their identity and political associations. The mechanisms that Aboriginal peoples choose to generate a sense of belonging could, of course, continue be expressed through the language of cultural difference and nationhood, but such outwards expressions are somewhat secondary to relational pluralism. Its primary concern is with the creation and preservation of non-oppressive political relationships. Through Tully‟s emphasis on the importance of ongoing inter-cultural negotiation and Schouls‟ description of relational pluralism as a continuous shifting and converging of the boundaries between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal societies, we can begin to see how planning might fit within the pursuance of fair and equitable indigenous-State relations. Both authors underscore the importance of deliberation and of inter-personal, inter-cultural, inter-jurisdictional learning – values that fit easily within planning theory and especially within the communicative planning school (see: Chapter 2). In terms of the specific normative criteria evoked in Figure 3-1, Healey‟s belief in the importance of innovation, integrative discourse, multiple sources of knowledge, and broad-based acceptance of diverse political identities continues to hold. However, the idea of indigenous self-determination tempers any notions about the universal desirability of creating broad-based planning networks and coalitions and the equal inclusion of all governance actors. As Porter (2004b) forcefully asserts, the achievement of a just planning relationship with indigenous peoples cannot be limited to a politics of inclusion; sovereignty and self-determination need to be taken into account. The principles of co-existence demand that some form of collaboration will need to achieved, but indigenous peoples also need to be able to self-define the boundaries and qualities of their relationships with other governance actors. Indigenous peoples may choose to become involved in the kind of broad-based collaborative governance processes Healey envisions or they may opt for a more restricted form of inter-governmental collaboration.  54  As Healey‟s propositions about the importance of developing appropriate hard infrastructures suggest, the success of both of these types of collaboration will depend on significant changes to the larger institutional system. Natural resource and planning scholars have already begun to question the link between institutional design and indigenous justice (see, for example: Stevenson & Natcher 2009; Smith 2009). The creation of effective institutional structures and arrangements is seen as a key step in terms of making the entire culture of forestry more hospitable to indigenous values, interests and aspirations (Steveson & Natcher 2009). Existing institutional policies and procedures have also been identified as a significant source of indigenous marginalization (Smith 2007). This work is still in its infancy and more work needs to be done on the dynamics of institutional change. It is not enough to focus on the desired governance outcomes; scholars and practitioners also need to be equally attentive to the messy institutional processes through which these outcomes might be realized. Thus, in addition to the development of a clear normative vision, the quality and character of Aboriginal-State planning initiatives also requires in-depth knowledge of how institutions function and change. Theorizing Change: Additional Sites for “Translation” and Expansion This research project aims to contribute to the growing body of literature on the institutional dimensions of collaborative resource planning and management with indigenous people by applying and examining the explanatory strength of three propositions about the drivers of institutional change: external shocks; new rules, norms and shared strategies (Ostrom 2005; Crawford & Ostrom 1995); and “institutional capacity development” (Healey et. al 2003; de Magalhães et al. 2002; Healey et al. 1999; Healey 1998). Although each of the propositions is discussed more thoroughly in subsequent chapters, the remainder of this chapter is devoted to the larger family of ideas that surround and give rise to these three approaches to the study of the dynamics and drivers of institutional change. They will be discussed in reverse order, as the preceding sections have already provided an orientation to some of the intellectual history behind Healey and her colleagues‟ work on institutional capacity development. Influenced by Judith Innes‟ work on consensus-building and the generation of “institutional capital” (Innes and Booher 1999) – a term that was designed to encompass intellectual capital, social capital and political capital – much of Healey‟s more recent work is focused on  55  how planning institutions change (Healey 2007; Healey et. al 2003; de Magalhães et al. 2002; Healey et al. 1999; Healey 1998). One of her earlier works in this area was a 1998 article entitled, “Building institutional capacity through collaborative approaches to urban planning”. By surveying a wide array of works drawn from the literature on social capital, governance forms, discourse analysis and others, she begins to theorize about how collaboration generates new institutional resources through its ability to build new social networks (relational resources) and incorporate different forms of information and intellectual frames (knowledge resources). Collaborative processes are also seen to have the ability to mobilize people to generate rapid and legitimate solutions (mobilization capacity). Ultimately, Healey believes that these acts of institutional capacity development lead to more effective and durable governance arrangements. Institution capacity development is seen to help explain how significant changes made during the collaborative planning episode (see: Figure 3-1) diffuse out to other levels of governance interaction. These propositions are largely supported by her extensive research on the collaborative approach to the regeneration of Grainger Town, a portion of Newcastle‟s city centre. Healey and her colleagues position the case as an encouraging example of institutional capacity development. New relationships were built between the different governance actors; alliances shifted; new knowledge was mobilized; and underlying ideas and agendas were changed – informal institutional alterations that transformed the urban governance culture. Part of this empirical work involved developing evaluative measures and criteria for three components of institutional capacity: relational resources; knowledge resources and mobilization capacity (see: Healey et. al 2003; de Magalhães et al. 2002). The precise measures of institutional capacity development are described in Chapter 7. At this point, it is sufficient to simply note that institutional capacity development is primarily an agencycentered perspective on the dynamics of institutional change that focuses on the “micropolitics” of governance transformation (Healey et al. 2003: 83). Although Healey and her colleagues are quick to assert that analyses of institutional capacity development need to be sensitive to “supra-local policy cultures and practices” (de Magalhães et al. 2002: 60), they tend to focus on informal power shifts and often omit the formal dimensions of institutional change: the development and alteration of institutional rules, norms and strategies, as will be discussed in a subsequent chapter.  56  One of the leading voices in the literature on formal institutional structures is Elinor Ostrom, a recent winner of the Nobel Prize in Economics, whose work has already been positioned as a potentially productive addition to contemporary planning theory (Beard & Basolo 2009; Innes 1995). Ostrom‟s Institutional Analysis and Development (IAD) Framework is an alternative to Healey‟s levels of governance interaction: one that provides a detailed analytical framework for classification of existing institutional structures and the study of their relative force. Key contributors to the literature on common-pool resources, Ostrom and her colleagues have developed the IAD framework in an attempt to map out the “fundamental building blocks of organized human interactions” (Ostrom 2005: 6). Like Healey‟s levels of governance interaction, the IAD framework places particular attention on the relationships between the different governance actors. What Healey has termed “specific governance episodes”, Ostrom refers to as action arenas. Purposefully situated at the centre of the IAD Framework (Figure 3-2), the action arena is formed when two or more individuals encounter an “action situation”, or a set of potential actions. These potential actions may include the buying and selling of goods; legislative decision-making; treaty negotiation; the management of common resources – and a whole host of other social, economic and political activities. The entire action arena is shaped by exogenous factors and the outcomes of previous decisions. As Imperial observes, “[t]he IAD framework suggests that three basic categories of variables influence the pattern of interactions among individuals and organizations in an action area” (1999: 454) : i) the rules the participants use to order their relationships; ii) the biophysical and material conditions that provide feedback and help determine what actions are possible; and iii) the community attributes that shape preferences and provide information on how knowledge and resources are distributed amongst the participants. These exogenous variables are also shaped by previous outcomes; although Ostrom asserts that this feedback relationship is slow and advocates treating the exogenous variables as fixed, when conducting an institutional analysis.  57  Figure 3-2: The Institutional Analysis and Development (IAD) Framework (Ostrom 2005)  Ostrom and her colleagues place particular attention on the rules that govern and systematize human behaviour. As will be explored in Chapter 6, a rule is seen as the most advanced and binding form of what Crawford and Ostrom refer to as an “institutional statement”: “the constraints and opportunities that prescribes, permits, or advises action or outcomes” (1995: 583) in the action arena. Rules are also seen as one of the more malleable variables in the IAD Framework: “institutional analysts working to craft solutions to negative outcomes in an action situation recognize that changes in rules may be easier and more stable than attempts to change the situation through changes in the biophysical world or attributes of the community” (Ostrom 2005: 138). As a result, a great deal of effort is spent on developing a method for the classification of rules. Rules are classified both horizontally and vertically. Horizontal classification is achieved through the analysis of the overall aim or intent, while vertical classification focuses on the level of authority. It speaks to the hierarchical and nested nature of rules: Operational rules directly affect day-to-day decisions made by the participants in any setting. These can change rapidly – from day to day. Collective-choice rules affect operational activities and results through their efforts in determining who is eligible to be a participant and the specific rules to be used in changing operational rules. These change at a much slower pace. Constitutional-choice rules affect collective-choice activities by determining who is eligible to be a participant and the rules to be used in crafting the set of collective-choice rules that, in turn, affect the set of operational rules. Constitutional choice rules change at the slowest pace (Ostrom 2005: 59). In a resource management context, operational rules would affect how much of the resource is harvested, when and with what technology (Gibson et al. 2000), whereas collective-choice rules would outline a process for deciding what areas are opened to harvesting. In BC, this process is referred to as Strategic Land Use Planning (see: Chapter 1). Constitutional-choice 58  rules would set the larger targets and parameters, such as amount of land that is to be set aside as protected areas. These are only some of examples of the types of rules that are developed at each of the levels of action. Ostrom and her colleagues have identified seven types of rules: position, boundary, choice, aggregation, information, scope and payoff (Table 3-1). Table 3-1: The vertical and horizontal classification of rules-in-use (Ostrom 2005; Trosper 2009)  Vertical  Horizontal Position Rules: create positions/roles (e.g. legislator, voter)  Constitutional-  Boundary Rules: determine how individuals are assigned to and leave positions  choice  Choice Rules: affect the assignment of certain actions to positions    Aggregation Rules: affect the level of control that individual participants exercise in action situations  Collectivechoice  Information Rules: affect the level of information available and exchanged in action situation    Scope Rules: affect the nature of outcomes (what must, may or may not be accomplished)  Operational  Pay-off Rules: affect the assignment of costs and benefits to outcomes resulting from the action situation  Despite such analytical detail and precision, the IAD framework‟s focus on the functional role of rules, arguably, lends itself more to the study of institutional maintenance as opposed to the processes of institutional change. Although the typical graphic depiction of the IAD framework (Figure 3-2) does include some feedback loops, the link between established institutional structures and the action arena is somewhat unidirectional. Rules are positioned as an exogenous variable that is impacted only by the end results of the action arenas, as opposed to the interactions that occur within the action arena itself. As a result, it inadequately addresses the very likely reflexive, double-loop learning scenario, in which the actors involved in the decision-making process interact with and alter established institutionalized structures as they go. Despite this deficiency in the IAD model, Ostrom is not completely inattentive to the question of institutional change. Some of her more recent work (Ostrom 2005) examines how the congregation of actors in the „action arena‟ can, in fact, lead to the alteration of rules, norms and strategies. But her understanding of the processes through which institutional structures change is somewhat restricted, always couched in the language of rational choice. Institutions change when the cost of changing the institutional rule and the anticipated benefits of the rule change outweighs the cost of sufficing and simply trying to work within the confines of the existing system.  59  As noted in the previous section, historical institutionalism provides an alternative theory of change. As explored in North‟s (1990) oft cited work, one of the primary functions of institutions is to provide stable, though not necessarily efficient, structures to guide human interactions. The inefficiency of existing institutional structures can often be attributed to a phenomenon known as path dependence: the “accidental set of happenings” that allow certain decision outcomes “to persist, even in the face of more efficient alternatives” (North 1990: 93). First applied to the standardization of the QWERTY keyboard (David 1985, as cited in North 1990), path dependence is often used to explain the dominance of technological anomalies. Small, historical events give one technology advantage over the other, leading to the establishment of a distinct path that is often difficult to change. This idea of path dependence resonates with the establishment of many large-scale planning technologies. For example, Siemiatycki (2006) uses the idea of path dependence to explain the City of Vancouver‟s decision to expand its light-rail transportation system, even in the face of more efficient alternatives. Yet, as this study also asserts, the establishment of a durable planning path is not simply the product of a distinct suite of external constraints and conditions; it is also “patterned” by internal planning norms, traditions and laws. Such usages of the idea of path dependence are much more closely aligned with the political sciences than the economics theories in which the idea first originated. Historical institutionalists working in the political sciences use the term to refer to the “self-reinforcing or positive feedback processes within political system” (Pierson & Skocpol 2002: 699). These reinforcing feedback processes are seen to include: the patterns of political mobilization (power relationships, etc); the institutional rules of the game; and the larger political culture. Thus, in addition to the study of large-scale, technologically-driven planning projects, the idea of path dependence could equally be applied to what Porter (2002) refers to as the “micro-technologies” of power: the values, assumptions and established practices that guide spatial decision-making. More broadly, historical institutionalism is concerned with substantive research on the longterm processes that produce and reproduce institutional structures (Pierson & Skocpol 2002): To develop explanatory arguments about important outcomes or puzzles, historical institutionalists take time seriously, specifying sequences and tracing transformations and processes of varying scale and temporality. Historical institutionalists likewise analyze macro contexts and hypothesize about the combined effects of institutions and processes rather than 60  examining just one institution or process at a time [emphasis original] (Pierson & Skocpol 2002: 695-696). As Pierson and Skocpol (2002) observe in an excellent summary of the state of historical institutionalism in the political sciences, this work is often achieved through the deployment of several organizing concepts, including the notion of path dependence. Although path dependence is often used to explain the durability and relative inertia within existing institutional structures, it can also reveal institutional vulnerabilities. The establishment of an institutional path at what is often referred to as a „critical juncture‟ may become increasingly difficult to sustain. The displacement of an institutional path often requires the presence of a certain threshold of change factors, which leads to these scholars‟ interest in the timing and sequence of events. Historical institutionalists are often interested in the presence or absence of „conjunctures‟, or the “interactive effects between distinct casual sequences that become joined at particular points in time” (Pierson and Skocpol 2002: 702). Such attempts to describe causality are approached cautiously: “Optimally, assertions of causality should be borne out of not just a correlation between two variables but also by a theoretical account showing why this linkage should exist and by evidence suggesting support for the theorized linkage” (Pierson and Skocpol 2002: 699). As a result, historical institutionalism appears to be more of a methodological orientation to the study of institutions and institutional change, rather than a comprehensive theory or analytical framework.  Summary The current literature on institutions offers several frameworks and methodological approaches to the study of institutional change. Each of these models possesses certain strengths and weaknesses. Historical institutionalism, with its adoption of the language of path dependence, offers a compelling storyline for the processes of institutional change. Students of institutional processes are encouraged to reflect on the historical emergence of existing institutional structures. These structures are not necessarily the most rational or efficient choice, but rather the result of formative decisions made at “critical junctures.” Institutions are described as somewhat stable systems that tend to make only incremental changes, unless there is a sufficient convergence of “external shocks”. In terms of the construction of macro-level historical narratives of the dynamics of institutional change, historical institutionalism appears to have real value. But as a detailed analytical framework,  61  it appears that it would need to be supplemented by the two other approaches to the study of institutional change that were included in this chapter. Although it exhibits a restricted understanding of the drivers of institutional change, the IAD Framework provides much of the analytical precision that seems to be lacking in historical institutionalism. It encourages students of institutional change to think clearly about the exogenous and endogenous variables that shape the actions of the different governance actors, and places particular emphasis on the different types of rules that may be present within the system. However, its reliance on theories of rational choice poses a major constraint. Governance actors are not necessarily rational, but rather a collection of heterogeneous human beings who make errors, who learn, and who possess a wide variety of skills and relationships. Ostrom and her colleagues are not completely inattentive to these issues – as evidenced by inclusion of the “the attributes of the community” in Figure 3-2 – but the role and importance of these attributes is under-theorized. As a result, it would appear that the IAD Framework has much to learn from the work of Patsy Healey and her collaborators, who privilege the informal and inter-personal dimensions of institutional change. However, these observations about the potential merits of the different approaches to the study of institutional change are tentative. The remainder of the dissertation will apply these models to the chosen empirical setting: the evolution and institutionalization of a G2G planning model for BC‟s Central Coast. The next chapter describes the overall research methods that were used to collect and analyze the data. From there, the dissertation returns to the questions of the internal and external factors that triggered and enabled the institutional changes that were needed to support the development of a G2G planning model for the Central Coast. Given its tendency towards the construction of more macro-level overviews, historical institutionalism is the first lens applied the study of CCLRMP process. Chapter 5 addresses the “external shocks” that led to formation of a G2G relationship, while also orienting the reader to the various steps and stages in the lengthy and somewhat convoluted CCLRMP process. Chapter 6 considers the merits of Ostrom and her colleagues‟ approach to institutional analysis by examining the five G2G agreements that were signed between the Province and the southern First Nations over the course of the 10-year CCLRMP process. Although the chapter adopts a more inductive approach to the horizontal classification of institutional statements, it begins from the belief that detailed analysis of formal rules is seen as an essential step in the  62  analysis of institutional processes. Institutional change may not begin with the development of new institutional statements, but new rules, norms and shared strategies are key to supporting and sustaining emergent institutional structures. Chapter 7 uses the institutional capacity development framework to address the informal and internal institutional changes that justified and provided additional support to emergent institutional structures. The concluding chapter takes some preliminary steps towards the integration of the three approaches.  63  CHAPTER 4  Research Methodology  Introduction The research purposes and questions outlined in Chapter 1 were developed with a qualitative research approach in mind. Qualitative research is based on the reflective study of „realworld‟ problems and attempts to take a holistic approach by focusing on entire system dynamics (Patton 2002). Qualitative researchers are positioned as bricoleurs and quilt makers (Denzin & Lincoln 2005), in that the research process is often described as a piecing together of different methodological tasks, abstract theories, and lived representations of complex situations and experiences. “If the researcher needs to invent, or piece together, new tools or techniques, he or she will do so. Choices regarding which interpretative practices to employ are not necessarily made in advance” (Denzin & Lincoln 2005: 4). As a result, qualitative research design “does not begin from a fixed starting point or proceed though a determinate sequence of steps, and it recognizes the importance of interconnection and interaction” (Maxwell 1996: 3). It is an elastic, iterative response to a whole host of factors – beyond the specific research purpose, questions, methodological procedures and underlying theoretical frames. Shifts may occur as a result of the researchers‟ level of funding and ability, the research setting, and (perhaps most importantly) the empirical data (Maxwell 1996). This project began with an intention to explore the dynamics of G2G planning on BC‟s Central Coast. It was to examine both the CCLRMP process and subsequent planning activities that supported its implementation. Though my plan has always been to approach the study of institutional change through the lens of the Nanwakolas Council, my original design included questions about the role of other First Nation coalitions. I had also intended to collect data about the Nanwakolas Council itself: the norms and procedures that guide the council‟s interactions with its member First Nations. I quickly sensed that my research participants were hesitant to talk in detail about current planning processes; did not want to be compared to (or be seen as comparing) other First Nations‟ strategies and approaches; 64  and did not want to draw too much attention to the internal dynamics of what was still a fledgling organization. Out of respect for my research participants, these questions were dropped from the study. Thus, despite the authority with which the research purpose and questions were articulated in the introductory chapter, both evolved during the study and were the product of an ongoing conversation with the empirical data. The goal of this chapter is to provide a reflective account of my research journey: how the data collection and analysis process sharpened my interest in the dynamics of institutional change (as discussed in the previous chapter) and ultimately led to a more historical analysis of the evolution of the G2G relationship. It also provides detailed information on the overall research strategy and ethical protocol, as well as the specific data collection and analysis methods. The chapter begins with a presentation of my overall research strategy. For although I was a committed case study researcher when I began this project, I did consider the merits of the other major qualitative research traditions and tried to adopt a pragmatic, somewhat hybridized approach to research design. This discussion of my overall research strategy leads into the data collection and analysis methods. Here, I discuss both the research procedures and the key moments in which my thinking about the nature of institutional change came into sharper focus. In this way, the chapter functions as an elucidation and justification of the analytical frame discussed in the previous chapter, as well as a preview of the structure and foci of the three empirical chapters which follow.  Research Strategy A myriad of qualitative approaches have been identified in the literature, each with their own strategies and methods.9 Creswell‟s (1998) oft-cited summary of the five traditions of qualitative inquiry identifies both the research strategy and the specific research methods. Table 4-1 presents the key characteristics of four of these traditions and examines how they might help and hinder the goals of this particular research project. Biography, the fifth tradition, has been omitted since the unit of analysis is too narrow to adequately address the research questions. Hermeneutic research strategies, such as discourse analysis, which were not included in Creswell‟s summary, have been added to the table.  9  The research strategy refers to the overall approach, whereas the research methods outline detailed procedures for data collection and analysis (Creswell 1998).  65  Table 4-1: A comparison of the different traditions of qualitative inquiry (Creswell 1998; Hay 2005) & their application to this project  Grounded Theory  Phenomenology  Ethnography  Discourse Analysis  Case Study  Theorize using field data  Understand essence of an experience(s)  Describe & interpret a cultural/social group  Uncover structures inherent in “texts”  In-depth analysis of a case(s)  Data Collection  Enough interviews to “saturate” categories  Long interviews  Primarily observations & interviews  Written, oral & visual “texts”  Multiple sources – e.g. documents, interviews  Data Analysis  Open, axial & selective coding  Statements, meanings, themes, descriptions  Description, analysis, interpretation  Content analysis & coding  Description, themes, assertions  Institutional Ethnography (IE)10  Foucauldian discourse analysis  Phronetic Research11   Structured approach to “textual” analysis  Broader treatment of power than IE (?)   Context-specific  Flexible; range of data; no set analytical approach  Less jargon; easier to communicate to participants   No clear method for including active participation, other than high standard of reflexivity  Critical theory jargon could alienate participants   Can be very descriptive  Generalizability can be limited (depends on case selection)  Intent  Relevant Variants  Pros  Cons   Privileges field data over pre-existing models; research participants play indispensable role  Structured approach to interview analysis   Use of narrative seems to work well with First Nation epistemologies   Allows/encourages active participation  Context-specific  IE links institutions, power & experiences of marginalization   Likely won‟t have enough interviews to “saturate” categories  First Nations might be uncomfortable with theorization about their lived experiences   Philosophical jargon could alienate participants  Discourages active participation; requires “bracketing” researcher experiences  Lacks a clear method for data analysis   Data & time intensive  Poor history with First Nations  Except for IE, limited document analysis  IE does not really address human agency & institutional change  IE begins with the theoretical perspective that experiences of an institution are textually-mediated, related to larger discourses and practices of power. Its goal is to trace how power works within an institution, using lived experiences as a guide (Campbell & Gregor 2004). 10  Phronetic research (Flyvbjerg 2002; 2001) argues that case study research should be driven by four “value-rational” questions: 1) where are we going; 2) who gains/loses, by which mechanisms of power; 3) is this development desirable; and 4) what should be done. These questions infuse case studies with a more explicit critical perspective, while not ignoring the need for policy oriented research. 11  66  Case study research emerged as the most appropriate research strategy, as it is adaptable and has the potential to incorporate applicable insights and approaches from the other research traditions12. For example, there is nothing that precludes case study research from adopting institutional ethnography‟s conceptualization of textually-mediated relations, or the idea that institutionally produced texts and procedures have the power to exclude and marginalize (Campbell & Gregor 2004). Similarly, it is free to adopt phenomenology‟s orientation towards lived experience and personal narratives; conventional ethnography‟s comfort with the use of active participation; and grounded theory and discourse analysis‟ coding and content analysis procedures. At the same time, case study research is not bound or limited by the existing literature on any one of these research traditions and is free to take a more pragmatic approach to research: adopting what works and leaving behind what does not. With such malleability and flexibility, case study research is often defined not by its research procedures, but rather by the overall research purpose. A case study has been defined as “an empirical inquiry that: investigates a contemporary phenomenon within its real-life context, especially when the boundaries between phenomenon and context are not clearly evident” (Yin 2003: 13). Case study research explores specificities and tends to be oriented to critical exploration, as opposed to the development of generalizable theories. However, it would be incorrect to suggest that it is impossible to generalize from a single case. Case studies are often described as being either intrinsic or instrumental. An intrinsic case study is one in which the researcher‟s interest is in the particularities of the specific case, not how it relates to other cases or to a more general problem. Instrumental cases studies, on the other hand, are those that treat the specific case as a window into the dynamics of a larger puzzle or problem. The careful selection of cases increases the generalizability of instrumental case study research. Stake (1995) suggests that the selection of case studies should be driven by the ability to maximize what can be learned: choosing those that are likely to lead to new understandings, assertions or the modification of established generalizations or theories. He does acknowledge that attention also needs to be paid to more pragmatic concerns, such as the need to pick cases that are easy to get to and are open to the presence of researchers. Similarly, Flyvbjerg (2001) advocates the selection  12  While some consider case study research to be a distinct methodology (Merriam 1988), others view “the case” as simply an object of study and describe case study research as drawing upon naturalistic, holistic, ethnographic, phenomenological and biographical research methods (Stake 1995).  67  of “critical cases.” Critical cases are those that are of “strategic importance” (Flyvbjerg 2001: 78), which is most often defined as those that are most likely to verify or falsify propositions. The Nanwakolas Council, and its experience of the institutional dynamics of G2G planning, is well positioned to act as a critical, instrumental case: one that sheds new light on how existing institutions respond and adapt to indigenous rights, title and governance traditions. The CCLRMP was one of the longest running Strategic Land Use Planning processes in British Columbian history, straddling one of the most significant decades in terms of defining the relationship between Aboriginal rights, title and resource decision-making. As will be explored in the next chapter, the Delgamuukw and Haida court decisions bracket the CCLRMP process. These cases defined the nature of Aboriginal title and set new legal standards for Aboriginal consultation and accommodation. The fact that both of these decisions were rendered during the CCLRMP process suggest that it became a testingground for new planning ideas and approaches, ones that would eventually be exported to other concurrent and subsequent LRMP processes across the province. The Nanwakolas Council‟s Clearinghouse Pilot Project (a spin-off of the Coastal Land Use Decision) also bears considerable resemblance to a new province-wide initiative to negotiate Strategic Engagement Agreements. Although they are not yet fully defined, these agreements are intended to streamline and bring additional clarity to Aboriginal consultation and accommodation. This exportation of ideas and approaches confirms that this research is not simply an intrinsic case study. It is not merely an examination of the planning and management of a single region (albeit an economically, socially and culturally important one), but rather a study of a „watershed‟ process: one that created opportunities for significant changes to British Columbia‟s approach to natural resource governance. The decision to explore this evolving governance system through the lens of the Nanwakolas Council ensures that there is sufficient depth and variation to maximize what can be learned from this case study. Though it is a single organization, it represents the interests and priorities of almost half of the First Nations with traditional territories in the Central Coast region. The study of an established planning coalition, therefore, provides an efficient way to examine how multiple First Nations engage in the development of a G2G relationship with the Province. The Nanwakolas Council was not the only First Nation planning coalition involved in the Central Coast process. The Turning Point (now Coastal) First Nations have set up a similar planning agency and signed similar protocol agreements with the Province.  68  However, the Turning Point First Nations had a very different relationship with CCLRMP and did not officially enter the process until about halfway through. Even then, they did not occupy an official seat at the planning table and tended to focus most of their efforts on the development of the new Ecosystem Based Management (EBM) Framework. The Nanwakolas Council (and the different planning coalitions that preceded it) was the only First Nation planning agency to be involved in the CCLRMP process from its inception. The coalition‟s representatives were both witnesses and active agents in the different twists and turns that led to the contemporary understanding of the G2G relationship. As a result, they have a tremendous depth of experience and are in possession of a wealth of archival sources that could be tapped into during the data collection process.  Data Collection Procedures By definition, case study research involves the collection of multiple sources of information.13 My primary data sources were written documents, interviews and participantobservation. Written documents were an effective window into the formal infrastructures of G2G, while informal aspects were identified through interviews and participant-observation. The collection procedures for each of these data sources are described in detail below. Participant-Observation As per initial discussions with Nanwakolas‟ President and Board of Directors, the research involved an in-kind contribution to the Council in the form of volunteer policy and planning support. From approximately May to November 2008, I volunteered for the Council on a part-time basis and was engaged in Detailed Strategic Planning, as well as the development of planning options for a new land use designation that arose out of the Coastal Land Use Decision. Although most of my work was done from Vancouver via email and conference calls, I did make several trips to the Nanwakolas Council‟s office in Campbell River (Vancouver Island) and occasionally to some of the member Nations‟ communities. This work exposed me to both the formal and informal institutions evoked in developing, refining and implementing the G2G relationship. I gained a better sense of the range of individuals involved in the Central Coast process as well as the current provincial legislative and policy  13  Yin (2003) suggests that the primary data sources are: documentation (e.g. written reports, administrative records, newspaper articles); archival records (organizational and personal records); direct observation (passive observation); participant-observation (active observation); and physical artifacts (e.g. artwork).  69  tools that shape and constrain the relationship. As a result, my volunteer work effectively functioned as a pilot study: a role that was understood by both the Nanwakolas Council and the University of British Columbia‟s Behavioural Ethics Research Board (BREB). Both my initial BREB application and the Council‟s letter of support (Appendices B & C) confirmed that information obtained during my volunteer work could be used in my dissertation, if it is approved by a designated liaison from the Nanwakolas Council. I quickly realized that a more appropriate strategy would be to use my observations and field notes to frame questions that I would like to follow up on in an interview situation. This approach facilitated a clearer division between my roles as a researcher and volunteer. It also freed staff and member First Nations from having to approve all of my field notes and removed any fears that unintended, off-hand comments would appear in the dissertation. During my volunteer work, I was invited to attend three additional events: a ceremony in the K‟omoks First Nations‟ Big House to re-affirm the parties‟ commitment to the Clearinghouse Pilot Project; a joint conference on resource-based economic development in First Nation communities; and a meeting of the Ecosystem Based Management (EBM) Working Group, the technical group that supports LRMP implementation. My original intent had been to include such LRMP implementation activities and spin-off processes in my research design. However, as will be discussed in the next sub-section, the interview process soon led me to conclude that the 10 years of intensive planning that led to the Coastal Land Use Decision represented a rich and unexpected story about the dynamics of institutional change, one that seemed to warrant a dissertation in and of itself. Although all of these events were opened to the public and could justifiably be used in the dissertation without obtaining additional permissions from the Nanwakolas Council, they occurred after the Coastal Land Use Decision and will not be discussed in the chapters that follow. These events did, however, confirm the applicability of the institutional capacity development framework (Healey et al. 2003; Magalhães et al. 2002) that was introduced in the previous chapter. The EBM Working Group meeting, in particular, highlighted the importance of knowledge generation (or what Healey and her colleagues might term, “intellectual capacity development”). EBM is a new approach to natural resource planning and management and the members of this committee are tasked with developing recommendations on research priorities; overseeing research related to uncertainties or knowledge gaps; coordinating and managing data (BC. EBM Working Group 2006). Yet, the complicated scientific discourse  70  that dominated the meeting also raises important questions about the degree to which the EBM Working Group, and other technical decision-making bodies, undermine the spirit of the G2G relationship. Representatives of the Nanwakolas Council acknowledge that they initially lacked this kind of expertise and suggest that they were unable to participate at a very high level until they were able to hire staff with this kind of expertise. Not only did the actors have to generate new forms of knowledge, but they also had to develop new ways of working together. The resource development conference I attended in January 2009 was a powerful example of this kind of social capital development. The conference came on the heels of the sudden death of Minister Stan Hagen, who had been a key figure in the Central Coast process and the development of the G2G relationship with the southern First Nations. He had also contributed to the organization of the conference and was supposed to have been one of its opening speakers. Instead, the President of the Nanwakolas Council used that time to reflect on the positive working relationship and friendship he had developed with this important provincial figure. The parties‟ willingness and ability to build this kind of trust and rapport was most certainly a key factor in the development and growth of the government-to-government relationship. But, it is also important to not lose sight of the fact the G2G is first and foremost a political relationship and as such there is a great deal of strategy and political positioning involved. The conference also contained a great deal of informal political behaviour. Senior staff members from the council were clearly „working the room‟ and, though I was not directly involved in any of their discussions, my sense was that they were using informal chit-chat with provincial ministers and government administrators to raise issues, frame problems and initiate additional policy discussions. These small examples confirmed that Healey and her colleagues‟ tripartite approach to institutional capacity development could be applied to the study of the government-to-government of planning (see; Chapter 7). However, as the interview process led me to conclude, such internal evolutions represent only part of the story. Interviews Using insights and information obtained during my pilot research, the interview process began with the development of a sample interview schedule and identification of a core set of interviewees. This small group of individuals represented key figures from both the provincial government and the southern First Nations‟ planning coalition:  71  Province:   Deputy Minister during the CCLRMP Completion Table    Representative to the Completion Table/G2G negotiator    Process coordinator for the Completion Table  Southern First Nations:   Nanwakolas Council President & CCLRMP representative    Nanwakolas Council Executive Director & CCLRMP representative  Additional interviewees were identified using a snowball sampling method. Each of the research participants suggested additional provincial informants. All but one of the provincial staff persons engaged in the design and implementation of the CCLRMP, and subsequent G2G relationship, agreed to participate. The remaining staff person has since retired; none of my research participants had current contact information and could not facilitate an introduction. However, his involvement was limited to the early days of the CCLRMP and was only occasionally referenced in the other interviews, suggesting that his lack of participation does not represent a serious constraint to the legitimacy or comprehensiveness of my research findings. The snowball sampling method did not result in any additions to the list of southern First Nation informants. Interviewees occasionally referenced additional southern First Nation actors that had been involved in the first five years, but these were brief and passing comments. The emphasis was consistently placed on the two individuals included in the core interviews, which suggests that additional First Nation planners and administrators did not need to be added to my list of interviewees. Thus, although the sample size was small, it did include all of the key provincial and First Nation administrators involved in the Central Coast process, and in the development of the G2G relationship in particular. The sample was exclusively focused on those who were intimately involved in the day-to-day operation and refinement of the G2G relationship and its role in the Central Coast planning process. It did not include elected political officials: Chiefs and Band Councilors (in the case of the southern First Nations) or Ministers (in the case of the province). The exclusion of elected officials was a conscious choice, informed by my specific theoretical interest in institutions and the institutionalization of planning approaches (see: Chapter 3). As Chapter 5 attests, politics and political decision-making were most certainly at play, in terms of the development of a G2G approach. However, my goal was not to study these political dynamics themselves, but rather how they play out at the administrative level: how they 72  shape and constrain the planning process and how they are interpreted and applied by actual planners. The relative continuity of planners and other government administrators (from both the Province and southern First Nations) involved in the Central Coast process provided a unique window into the evolution of the G2G relationship. Unlike the elected officials, many of these individuals were involved in the entire Central Coast process and are able to comment and reflect on the impact of a wide range of factors, including the introduction of new political faces and ideologies. To be sure, neither of the southern First Nation representatives included in this study would self-identify as a „planner‟, but both played a foundational role in the translation of knowledge into action – to borrow a phrase from preeminent planning theorist John Friedmann (1987). Many of the Nanwakolas Council‟s current Board of Directors (which is primarily composed of Chiefs and Councilors from each of the member First Nations) have a long-standing history with the Central Coast process, but are usually one step removed from the inner workings of the planning process. They retain the final decision-making authority, but do not have the same insight into the day-to-day development and institutionalization of the G2G relationship as the Council‟s President and Executive Director. The Province‟s elected political figures were perceived as having a similar relationship to the design and implementation of the Central Coast process, as Strategic Land Use Planning represents only a small portion of the ministers‟ portfolios - with the potential exception of Stan Hagen who served as the Minster of Sustainable Resource Management, which oversaw the provincial push to complete the remaining LRMPs in the early 2000s. Sadly, Minister Hagen died suddenly before I could contact him for an interview. Each of the interviewees was taken through a semi-standardized interview schedule that contained predetermined questions related to the themes, issues and topics under study (Berg 2001), but also afforded the freedom to digress. A generic interview schedule was tailored to each interviewee, so that it would better reflect and capitalize on the research participants‟ different roles and experiences. Some questions were dropped and others were added. All of the interviewees were asked to describe the nature of their involvement with the Province/Nanwakolas Council (e.g. responsibilities, mandate, reporting relationships, etc); perceptions of the origins of the G2G planning approach; the design and day-to-day function of the different planning forums they were involved in (LRMP Table, G2G negotiation sessions, etc); and their perceptions on the Central Coast process‟ relationship to  73  and influence on subsequent planning and policy initiatives. The sample schedule provided in Appendix D reflects these major lines of questioning. It includes both the primary questions and some examples of the kinds of probes that were used to keep the interviewees talking and to draw out additional information. Once in the interview setting, I would often need to make changes to my planned interview schedule. I asked questions out of order to maintain flow and continuity, and used unscheduled probes to capitalize on emergent themes and narratives. I also changed the phrasing of individual questions and often parroted the interviewee‟s vocabulary and phrasing, in an attempt to help put him14 at ease and improve the comprehensibility of my questions. The majority of the interviews took place in a professional environment, during the interviewees‟ scheduled working hours. The goal was to complete each interview in 1 to 1.5 hours. Follow-up interviews were occasionally used, if key themes or issues were missed or if additional clarification was needed. This more adaptive approach is in line with the existing literature on qualitative interviewing, which suggests that the interview schedule needs to be adapted to the each interview context and to the personal characteristics of each interviewee (Berg 2001). It was also a function of the overall case study approach. Unlike some of the other research traditions the goal of case study research is not to compare or generalize about the research participants‟ experiences or reflections. Interviews are an opportunity to access information and insights that are not reflected in other data sources. The consistent application of a precise interview schedule is not a foundational requirement of case study research. In fact, this more flexible approach to the interview process allowed me to capitalize on emergent trends within the data and directed me to alternate analytical frames. For example, my interests in historical institutionalism were a direct product of the interview process. The initial literature review and theoretical framing of this research project had exposed me to the basic tenets of historical institutionalism, though it was not until I was well into the interview process that I came to appreciate how it might be used to open up new lines of questioning regarding the evolution of a G2G planning model for the Central Coast. My original interview schedule did include a section on the origins of the G2G relationship, but I was unprepared for the level of detail and consistency with which my 14  The male pronoun will be used when referring to my interviewees, as all happened to be men – a gender disparity that may warrant future investigation.  74  Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal participants spoke about the strategies and complex power relationships that surrounded the development of the G2G model. As I had anticipated, my interview participants drew attention to recent court cases and key changes to the broader legal environment, but they also connected the G2G relationship to the shifting relationships between the environmental community and the forest industry (see: Chapter 5). It became clear that, in addition to the institutional capacity development framework‟s perspective on social learning and capacity development, I also needed a theory that could account for the convergence of multiple more macro-level drivers of institutional change. The interview process also challenged my assumptions about the history of the term „government-to-government‟. My interview participates often spoke of how the term predated the CCLRMP process, while still acknowledging the foundation role this process played in its institutionalization. As a result, an additional interview was conducted with one of the key representatives involved in the design of BC‟s approach to Strategic Land Use Planning. This interview was a late addition to the data collection process and was a conscious attempt to verify and further contextualize the Commission on Resources and Environment (CORE)‟s role in conceptualizing the relationship between Strategic Land Use Planning and Aboriginal rights and title. This addition speaks to my general approach to the interview process. The goal of the interview process was not to “saturate” the different types and categories of informants (as in grounded theory), but rather to solicit distinct perspectives and windows into the dynamics of the case. Current and Historical Documents: The wide range of written policy and planning documents that were developed during the 10 years of the Central Coast process were a key component of the research. These documents included:   The complete set of G2G protocol agreements signed during the approximately 10 years of planning that led to the Coastal Land Use Decision    The Terms of Reference (and other formative documents that address process design) for both of the CCLRMP Planning Tables    The complete set of meeting minutes from the CCLRMP „Completion Table‟ (the Province did not have similar archival records from the first CCLRMP Table)    Provincially-produced newsletters and information updates on the CCLRMP process    Provincial press releases regarding the CCLRMP process  75  These government documents allowed for identification of major events and milestones in the Central Coast process with a level of detail and specificity that most of my interview participants could not recall. The Terms of Reference, in particular, provided detailed information on how the Province‟s unique relationship with Aboriginal Peoples was conceived and expressed in the original design of the multi-stakeholder planning tables. This historical reconstruction was augmented by media coverage and stakeholder press releases regarding the environmental community‟s campaign to initiate an international boycott of BC forest products, as this boycott was widely recognized by all of my interview participants as having played a major role in the formation of the G2G relationship. The Canadian Newsstand Complete database was used to access relevant media coverage of the both the boycott and the response amongst the major governmental and stakeholder groups. The database includes all of the major provincial dailies, as well as some of the regional newspapers. Of the government documents, the five protocol agreements were one of the most important data sets, as they provided detailed information on the nature and scope of the G2G relationship between the Province and southern First Nations. Although many of these documents are not publicly available, electronic copies were generously provided by the Nanwakolas Council. This information went well beyond anything that was contained in the Terms of Reference and other process documents associated with the two CCLRMP planning tables. In addition to being detailed representations of the parties‟ shared commitment to specific planning and policy decisions, these agreements codify and formalize the overall structure of the G2G relationship. They established expectations regarding information sharing, First Nation capacity development, and dispute resolution. The latter agreements, in particular, also addressed issues of institutional design: how resource planning and management decisions would be made, under what authority and through what policy arenas. The sequential and iterative nature of five agreements provided a clear window into the formalization of the government-to-government planning model for the Central Coast and served as a powerful reminder that institutional change cannot be understood through the institutional capacity development model, alone. Attention also needs to be given to how institutional change is sustained and potentially triggered by written policy documents: an observation that led to increased emphasis and an entire chapter on the work of Elinor Ostrom (see: Chapter 6).  76  Data Analysis Procedures The analysis of case study data involves both direct interpretation and categorical aggregation.15 Stake (1995) outlines a procedure for identifying patterns and correspondence in the data. Although he never uses the term content analysis, his approach is based on the development of interpretative codes that relate to the themes or issues under study. Codes are often developed ahead of time and relate to the pre-determined research questions, but the researcher must also be open to and develop codes to account for unexpected patterns in the data. Codes are used in the analysis of written texts (e.g. archival documents, interview transcripts, field notes). Correspondence is said to occur when two or more codes consistently appear together in the text and is often an indication of an intrinsic relationship that is of potential theoretical relevance. The frequency of an established code is often a measure of its relative importance. This more quantitative approach to content analysis was used in the study (especially in Chapter 6), as it allowed for the development of initial interpretations of the data and the testing of „hunches‟ and propositions generated during the coding process. However, it also has the potential to ignore the richness that is a hallmark of case study research, necessitating the introduction of a more narrative approach to content analysis.16 Once frequency and correspondence were established (manifest content analysis), attention was paid to the actual words and the manner in which they are offered, or latent content analysis (Berg 2001). This more interpretative approach to content analysis allowed for the identification of many of the informal infrastructures that shape the G2G relationship (e.g. policy frames). Latent content analysis benefited from the introduction of elements of discourse analysis and institutional ethnography17. Discourse analysis examines the historically-constituted structures inherent in “texts” (Hay 2005), whereas institutional ethnography goes one step further by linking identified discourses to experience (Campbell & Gregor 2004). Discourse analysis helped me to trace how the infrastructures of both Direct interpretation draws meaning from a single instance or event: “pulling the data apart and putting them back together in a more meaningful way” (Creswell 1998: 250). Categorical aggregation refers to the compilation of multiple instances in the data “until something can be said of them as a class” (Stake 1995: 74). 15  16  Some authors view narrative analysis as a distinct approach (Maxwell 2005); for others it is another, more explicitly qualitative form of content analysis (Berg 2001). 17  It is important to note that institutional ethnography generally shies away from content analysis. The sorting and counting of data by codes is seen to divert attention away from entire system dynamics (Campbell & Gregor 2004): a criticism that seems to relate to manifest content analysis.  77  British Columbian and Kwakwaka‟wakw resource planning and governance tradition were evoked and altered in G2G processes. Institutional ethnography helped connect these discourses to the research participants‟ personal assessments and lived experiences of government-to-government planning. Both manifest and latent content analysis were supported through the use of a qualitative code-and-retrieve software program (HyperResearch). Initially, all of the primary data was entered into the same coding file, with the intention to examine the formal and informal dimensions of institutional change concurrently. This coding strategy quickly proved itself to be unwieldy and a decision was made to parse out the different dimensions and driving factors of institutional change. Separate coding files were created to account for and analyze both the external drivers of institutional change (“the shocks”) and the two major forms of internal evolutions: the formal changes to written policy and procedure and the processes of social learning and institutional capacity development amongst the major governance actors. The empirical findings from these three coding files are sequentially addressed in the three chapters that follow. With the exception of Chapter 5, the coding process began with the development of deductive codes, drawn from existing theories about the specific institutional issues or questions under investigation. For example, Chapter 6 employed Crawford and Ostrom‟s (1995) work on the elements of institutionalized rules, norms and strategies, while Chapter 7 used Healey and her colleagues‟ work on the dimensions of “institutional capacity development” (Healey et al. 1999; de Magalhães et al. 2002; Healey et al. 2003) as an analytical starting point. The interview transcripts, and other written data sources, were scanned for supporting evidence and empirical examples of the different components and sub-components of these institutional theories. However, not all of the themes and issues that were frequently evoked in my primary data were captured in the deductive codes, necessitating the development of additional inductive codes: codes that were often suggestive of potential expansions and/or adaptations to the existing literature. Chapter 5, on the other hand, began with historical institutionalism‟s ideas of path dependence, external shocks and punctuated equilibrium. These concepts functioned more as organizing images (and as a potential narrative device) than as a detailed analytical frame that could be operationalized through content analysis. As a result, my analysis of the external drivers of institutional change was a more inductive exercise, a piecing together of a consistent story of  78  the evolution of government-to-government planning on the Central Coast through several rounds of iterative coding.  Strategies for Validating Findings In qualitative research, validity is defined as the degree to which the results are viewed as accurate from a variety of standpoints: the researcher, participants, and readers (Creswell 2003). Creswell (2003) has identified eight different strategies for the validation of qualitative data: 1) triangulating data; 2) member checking; 3) using rich, thick description; 4) clarifying researcher‟s bias; 5) including discrepant information; 6) spending prolonged time in the field; 7) using peer debriefing; and 8) using an external auditor. The first four of these strategies represent the primary means through which the validity of the data was established. It is important to note that there are different kinds of triangulation: investigator, theoretical and methodological triangulation – methodological triangulation being the most common (Stake 1995). Investigator triangulation, where more than one researcher is collecting and interpreting the same data, was not used in the study. As a result, my overall thought process, and any potential biases there within, are openly discussed throughout the text so that the reader can judge for herself whether the findings are valid. Theoretical triangulation was used, although often not in accordance with the conventional definition of having people with alternative theoretical viewpoints review the work. This kind of crosschecking did occur within the context of my inter-disciplinary faculty supervisory committee, but it represented a relatively minor proportion of my overall validation strategy. However, my decision to parse the data analysis process into the study of three different institutional theories‟ applicability to the dynamics of government-to-government planning effectively functions as a kind of theoretical triangulation. As the next three chapters will show, the three institutional theories deployed in this study emphasize different aspects of the process of institutional change, but all point to similar formative events and milestones in the evolution of the G2G relationship for the planning and management of the Central Coast. Given case study research‟s emphasis on multiple sources of information, methodological triangulation also played a major role in the study. The validity of the data was established by looking for correspondence and intersection between the three primary data sources: document review, interviews and participant-observation. Once correspondence and 79  intersection was established, thick descriptions allow the reader to make their own judgments about the validity of the data. For example, generalizing statements about the overall meaning and/or essence of interviewee‟s comments are augmented with detailed passages taken from the actual interview. The validity of the data was also confirmed through member checking. A designated representative from the Nanwakolas Council was given the opportunity to review all of the results chapters. Although he primarily wanted to approve the quotations that were attributed to southern First Nation representatives, he also provided positive feedback on the accuracy and overall “palatability” (Stake 1995: 115) of the text. The review of interview data will be discussed in greater detail in the next sub-section, as giving the research participants the opportunity to remove data and provide feedback on the accuracy of the results is an important component of ethically sound research with Aboriginal peoples.  Research Ethics Free and Informed Consent The goal of any ethical research project is to maximize benefits while minimizing and properly informing the participants of potential risks. Although my project posed minimal risk, it could expose sensitive information that could threaten the G2G relationship and/or personal reputations. As per the Tri-Council Policy Statement (2003) on research involving human subjects, this project took appropriate measures to ensure that these risks are fully communicated. All of the research participants had the opportunity to provide free and informed consent. The consent of people involved in the research was sought and confirmed before any research commenced. The Board of Directors of the Nanwakolas Council expressed their consent to conduct research about their organization at the outset of the research project (Appendix C). According to the Tri-Council Statement a similar level of consent does not need to be obtained from the provincial agencies involved in the research. A letter of introduction and a written consent form (Appendix E) was distributed to potential individual research participants. This package included:   Description of aim of the research project and its research procedures;    The nature and expected duration of their participation;    How interview data will be used and opportunities for participant review, editing and removal of data  80    Any foreseeable harms and benefits    Assurance that their identity will be kept confidential, unless I am specifically directed otherwise    Assurance that their participation is voluntary and they may withdraw at any time without prejudice    My contact information and that of my supervisory committee, and an assurance that they have the right to appeal to the researcher‟s supervisory committee and/or to the University of British Columbia‟s Office of Research Services.  Once each participant granted their informal consent, I worked with them to schedule an interview. The consent form was signed at the time of the interview. Before the interview commenced, I also discussed whether and how they would be like to be involved in the review of their interview transcripts. This option was put in place so that the interview participants could be involved in identifying information that could potentially harm the G2G relationship, as well as personal and professional reputations. Only two of the interview participants wanted to review their entire interview transcripts. One made only minor changes to the transcript, smoothing out sentence structures and correcting minor grammatical errors – work I did for all of my interviewees, when I wished to include specific quotations in the actual dissertation. Such modifications were not seen as a significant threat to the accuracy or validity of the data since the linguistic construction of ideas is not a specific area of research interest. The other did request the removal of a few lines and passages, which were deemed too sensitive to include in a public document. I immediately made the requested changes and even my own electronic files no longer include the omitted passages, removing the potential that these passages would be inadvertently included in the dissertation.  81  CIHR Principles for Research with Aboriginal Peoples In addition to the standard procedures for research involving human subjects, this project needed to take additional measures to ensure it respects the rights and protocols of its First Nation participants. The Canadian Institute of Health Research (CIHR)‟s 2007 Guidelines for Health Research Involving Aboriginal People represents some of the most recent thinking on how to develop projects that are “ethical and culturally competent” (CIHR 2007: 2). Some of their principles only apply to health research, but the most are of broader application and are expected to inform efforts to revise the existing Tri-Council Policy Statement: Ethical Conduct for Research Involving Humans (CIHR 2007). Table 4-2 outlines how these principles were addressed within the context of my project.  Table 4-2: Strategies for addressing the CIHR Guidelines for research with Aboriginal Peoples  CIHR Principle  Strategies adopted for this research project  Researcher should understand & respect Aboriginal worldviews, including responsibilities that flow from being granted access to traditional or sacred knowledge. These should be incorporated into research agreements, to the extent possible.  Although the need to understand & respect Aboriginal worldviews is an underlying theme, traditional & sacred knowledge is not part of the research project.  A community‟s jurisdiction over the conduct of research should be understood & respected.  Respects community jurisdiction by providing opportunities to: participate in research design; review preliminary results & remove/ edit data; determine format for community dissemination of results.  Communities should be given the option of participatory-research.  I offered a participatory-research approach during initial discussions. The Council preferred an in-kind (volunteer) contribution.  Research that touches on traditional/sacred knowledge, or on community members as Aboriginal people, should obtain community leaders‟ consent first. This does not eliminate the need for free, prior & informed consent of individual participants.  The Nanwakolas Council gave its consent at the outset of the pilot research. I also sought free, prior & informed consent from individual interviewees.  Individual & community concerns regarding anonymity, privacy & confidentiality should be respected & addressed in a research agreement.  Since the research examines a public process, complete anonymity cannot be guaranteed. Participants are not referred to by name, but a reader familiar with the case may be able to determine their identities.  The research agreement should, with the guidance of community knowledge holders, address the use of the community‟s cultural knowledge.  Any cultural/sacred knowledge shared during the volunteer work is confidential & does not appear in the dissertation.  82  Aboriginal people & their communities retain their inherent rights to any knowledge, practices and traditions, which are shared with the researcher. The researcher should also support mechanisms for the protection of such knowledge, practices & traditions.  Since political sensitivity is a concern, participants were able to review their interview transcript & remove information that might jeopardize the Council‟s reputation or the G2G relationship.  Intellectual property issues should be explicitly addressed before starting the project. Expectations regarding intellectual property rights should be stated in the research agreement.  Intellectual property is minimally involved. Participants were asked to reflect on their experiences & impressions of a planning process, knowledge that generally does not have commercial value.  Research should benefit the community as well as the researcher.  The research involves an in-kind contribution to the Council, in the form of volunteer planning & policy support.  A researcher should support education of Aboriginal people in the community, including training in research methods & ethics.  The Council‟s decision to not engage in participatory research meant there were no direct opportunities to train community members. The research procedures were communicated in an open & transparent manner.  A researcher has an obligation to learn about & apply relevant Aboriginal cultural protocols.  Volunteering for the Council afforded opportunities to learn about Aboriginal protocols. Senior staff commented on my proposed research design, ensuring conformity with established cultural protocol & community expectations.  A researcher should translate documents into the language of the community, to the extent reasonably possible.  Translation was not pursued, as English is the language of the Nanwakolas Council.  A researcher should ensure that there is ongoing, accessible & understandable communication with the community.  The initial letter of support included a general commitment to ongoing communication. When appropriate and invited, I also provided periodic updates during the Council‟s Board Meetings.  An Aboriginal community should have an opportunity to participate in the interpretation of data & conclusions to ensure accuracy & cultural sensitivity of interpretation.  The review process allowed for the editing/removal of politically or culturally sensitive information.  An Aboriginal community should be able to decide how its contributions are acknowledged. Community members are entitled to due credit & to participate in the dissemination of results. Publications should recognize community & individual contributions, in conformity with confidentiality agreements.  The Nanwakolas Council participation is explicitly acknowledged in the dissertation, and will be in all subsequent publications and presentations. Copies of the final dissertation will be given to the Nanwakolas Council. Other forms of the dissemination (community presentations, etc) were discussed, but the Nanwakolas Council did not deem them to be a necessary component of the research relationship  83  Summary In addition to presenting the research methods and strategies for ensuring a respectful relationship with my indigenous research participants, this chapter illustrates how data collection and analysis strategies led to different theoretical frames and sharpened my interest in the multiple sites of institutional change. My interests in the three analytical frames that were presented in the previous chapter (historical institutionalism; the IAD framework; and the institutional capacity development framework) were not simply a product of my reading of the theoretical literature, but also a response to emerging trends within my data. For example, the interview process and the consistency in the participants‟ understanding of the more macro-level drivers of institutional change confirmed the importance of the attending to the „external shocks‟ that created windows of opportunity for the development of a G2G planning model. Participant observation, on the other hand, drew my attention to the more micro-level processes of social learning and capacity development. My interests in the textual dimensions of institutional change (or how planning and policy documents function as both a trigger and a reflection of micro and macro-level evolutions) arose out of my observation of the G2G protocol agreements‟ association with key changes to the CCLRMP process. Thus, although the substantive research questions presented in Chapter 1 continued to guide the data collection and analysis process, the research focus shifted to include my growing interests in the specific methods and analytical frames that might be used to study multi-scalar and multi-dimensional processes of institutional change. Although the various drivers of change are intrinsically linked in actual planning practice, they can be held apart for analytical purposes. As discussed in Chapter 3, each of the following results chapters examine the evolution of the G2G planning model for BC‟s Central Coast through a different analytical frame, while the concluding chapter brings them back together through a more holistic assessment of the dynamics of the CCLRMP process.  84  CHAPTER 5  The Evolution of Government-to-Government Planning on the Central Coast: A Punctuated Process of Institutional Change  Introduction The call for nation-to-nation relationships between Aboriginal Peoples and the State is not new, nor is it unique to British Columbia and the Central Coast region. Given that territorial governments could hardly be conceived as „nations‟, several Canadian provinces have started to refer to their relationships with Aboriginal Peoples as being on a government-togovernment basis (see: British Columbia [BC] 2005; Manitoba 2007; Ontario Native Affairs Secretariat 2005). In British Columbia, the term government-to-government (G2G) has been a part of the resource planning and policy lexicon since at least the early 1990s, when the Commission on Resources and Environment (CORE) was in its heyday. Processes initiated during the first ten years or so of Strategic Land Use Planning did acknowledge that First Nations needed to be viewed as collaborating governments – not as stakeholders. Many of these processes also included brief references to the possibility of separate governmentto-government side-table discussions, negotiations and/or approval processes. Yet, the G2G ideal lacked the clarity and specificity that has emerged in more recent years. It was not until the Central Coast process that the idea of government-to-government planning moved from an ill-defined concept to a lasting, institutionalized approach. According to the Province's own assessment of the history of Strategic Land Use Planning, First Nation involvement has gone from simply being invited to participate to securing a multi-dimensional bilateral approach that is seen to go well beyond “conventional consultation” (BC. ILMB 2009a). Government-to-government planning is now seen to include:   dialogue and agreement at the outset of [Strategic Land Use Planning] or coordinated engagement process to confirm, in writing, the protocol that will be followed for engagement.  85        joint delivery of planning processes through the creation of special forums or committees to facilitate collaborative dialogue. provision of funding to First Nations so they can participate in SLRP processes, by developing relevant information for incorporation into the process, liaising with community members, and participating in discussions at planning meetings. collaborative decision making in search of consensus recommendations on land use and resource management. consideration and development of plan products that meet specific First Nations interests for resource protection, stewardship or access (BC. ILMB 2009a)  Although the Province formally maintains final decision-making authority, current conceptions of G2G planning could accurately be described as culminating in a de facto, bilateral approval of a strategic land use plan.18 Government-to-government planning now includes a period of focused G2G negotiations on the draft land use plan, just prior to Cabinet submission, which suggests that the results of these negotiations either become or provide a strong basis for the final land use plan. The creation of long-term G2G deliberative forums is also an increasingly common approach to plan implementation and monitoring. Yet, this evolution of ideas was not a gradual linear process. The development, expansion and replication of the G2G planning model was a punctuated process of institutional change, strongly linked to several external shocks to the established provincial resource planning system. Changing legal and political environments consistently drove internal adaptation and change. Existing British Columbian resources planning systems were developing a „new normal‟. Such equilibrium-seeking behaviour is a key concept in New Institutional theory, so much so that the entire field of historical institutionalism is often defined by its emphasis on the farreaching impacts of past decisions; the institutional tendency to adhere to past behavioural patterns; and the importance of external shocks and critical junctures (Hall & Taylor 1996; Lecour 2005). Some historical institutional theorists have turned to evolutionary biology as a source of metaphorical inspiration. For example, Baumgartner and Jones (1993) found meaning in Eldredge and Gould‟s (1972) theory of “punctuated equilibrium”, which suggests that evolutionary change is relatively rare and that new species are derived through relatively rapid differentiation, as distinct populations adapt to new environments. Thus,  18  Forsyth (2006) makes a similar distinction and advanced the idea of “function power.” He notes that British Columbian First Nations often have a greater level of decision-making power in forest management that the institutional arrangements formally acknowledge.  86  biological evolution is portrayed not as a gradual progression, but as process of punctuated change. As discussed by Baumgarter (2006), this theory of evolutional change offered a way to link two previously disparate approaches to the study of public policy: incremental adjustment and the exploration of dramatic shifts in the policy agenda-setting process. It provided a way to explore how “within the spotlight of macropolitics, some issues catch fire, dominate the agenda, and result in changes to one or more [policy] subsystems” (True et al. 1999: 158). Policy systems are seen to include long periods of relative stasis and are only occasionally punctuated by rapid periods of change. “Like earthquakes or landslides, [these] policy punctuations can be precipitated by a mighty blow, an event that simply can not be ignored, or by relatively minor events that add up over a long period of time. (True et al. 1999: 160). However, as the punctuated equilibrium theory of institutions also acknowledges, these changes are not simply a product of macro-level forces; how the various policy community and policy entrepreneurs perceive and strategically response to the forces is equally important (Baumgartner 2006). Not unlike the biogeographic conditions that are the catalyst for biological evolution, the feedback between the different policy actors and their contextual and/or structural environment is key to understanding the punctuated process of institutional change. Such interactions between micro and macro-level variables was a key feature of the evolution of the government-to-government planning model, as the Central Coast had several unique conditions that helped trigger and justify institutional experimentation. Spanning over 10 years of legal, political and socio-economic change, the Central Coast became an “important incubator” (PROV 1) for broader changes to Aboriginal-State relations and the governance of British Columbian lands and resources. External forces provided the necessary stimuli and conditions, while the unique characteristics of the Central Coast region provided a relatively discrete and contained environment where the dramatic alteration of existing provincial structures and practices was seen as not only justifiable but also an absolute necessity. Unlike most LRMP areas, First Nations are a majority population in the Central Coast, meaning that the legitimacy of the entire process was dependent on substantial First Nation involvement. While the Central Coast‟s unique demography appears to have been the initial trigger for institutional change, external factors also played a key role. Aboriginal law was undergoing major change throughout the late 1990s/early 2000s, compelling the Province to develop new models for working with Aboriginal Peoples. These legal catalysts coalesced with other changes to the political  87  landscape on BC‟s coast. New stakeholder networks and coalitions were emerging and perceived as a threat to established provincial processes. Developing closer working relationships with First Nations proved to be an effective way for the Province to re-assert its role in the process. The unprecedented confluence of factors in a unique demographic environment suggests that, not only is institutional change a punctuated process, but that it begins on the fringes of an established system. The purpose of this particular chapter is two-fold: 1) to orient the reader to the various steps and stages in the Central Coast planning process, flagging issues that will be explored in greater detail in subsequent chapters and 2) to examine the legal, political, discursive and organizational factors (both internal and external to the official planning process) that led to the Central Coast‟s emergence as a key site for the evolution of a long-term collaborative approach to planning with First Nations. It begins with a presentation of the origins of the government-to-government ideal, highlighting some of the potential reasons why it initially failed to take hold. The first five or six years of Strategic Land Use Planning are then contrasted with the dynamics of the Central Coast. The various steps and stages of the CCLRMP and its approach to engaging with First Nations are described, before connecting these punctuations to the external shocks and drivers of these institutional adjustments.  The Origins of Government-to-Government Planning in British Columbia Although Aboriginal peoples‟ level of engagement with early Strategic Land Use Planning exercises was not a major research component and was only partially addressed in the interviews and primary data collection, it is a history that should not be ignored. The institutional theories discussed in Chapter 3 all suggest that governance structures are often self-replicating systems exhibiting a strong lineage of ideas and patterns of behaviour. Attention must be paid to the discursive and structural inheritance that informed, enabled, and constrained the G2G relationship that was enacted at the outset of the Central Coast process. Fortunately, Strategic Land Use Planning has been a huge area of scholarly research (as explored in Chapter 2) and has left a long trail of archival data and post-process assessments, which form the basis of this next section. These documents are not without weaknesses. Some of the government documents are simply no longer available, while others skirt the underlying power dynamics and present an overly optimistic picture. All lack the detailed narrative and reflective insight of personal interviews. Despite such deficiencies, what emerges is a clear sense that, although the „government-to-government‟ term was used, 88  it was ill-defined and often dismissed as being outside the scope of Strategic Land Use Planning. This confusion and lack of clarity arguably had its origins in the Commission on Resources and Environment (CORE), which was based on a very different understanding of the appropriate relationship between planning and Aboriginal self-determination. While the Central Coast process tended to address questions of land use and Aboriginal-State governance concurrently, CORE had a more truncated view. The government-to-government relationship was often conflated with the fledgling BC Treaty process, which emerged over roughly the same time period and out of many of the same pressures. Both began in 1992; CORE received its legal mandate with the passing of the Commissioner on Resources and Environment Act, while the treaty process was officially initiated after the signing of the BC Treaty Commission Agreement. Both arose out of a need for certainty and stability on the British Columbian land base. For example, the BC Claims Task Force forcefully asserted that a modern process of treaty negotiation was urgently needed to address the “unsettling degree of uncertainty” over the “jurisdiction and ownership of land, sea, and resources” (1991: 10). This uncertainty was positioned as a significant threat to business investment. Similar concerns about the viability of BC resource industries were raised during the socalled „war in the woods‟ (see: Chapter 1). CORE was explicitly positioned as a way to promote a “strong and sustainable economy” through the development of a governance framework that “promotes stability and predictability for business and investment” (BC. CORE 1994a: 10). Yet, as one senior official intimately involved in the establishment of CORE recalls, “there was a real aversion within the provincial government, at the time, to confuse the two processes” (OTH 2). CORE was to ensure that Aboriginal rights were respected, but the idea of a government-to-government relationship appears to have been defined as a treaty issue, rather than a principle that could be evoked and enacted in the design and implementation of a collaborative planning process. CORE‟s formative documents reflect this desire to establish clear boundaries between the two processes: boundaries that appear to have been in direct contrast to Aboriginal interests and aspirations. The CORE Act directed the commissioner to encourage Aboriginal participation and to maintain strong links to the BC treaty process. Both the work of the commission and any resultant First Nation participation was to be “without prejudice” to Aboriginal rights and treaty negotiations (CORE Act 1992 s.4). CORE‟s 1992 Land Use  89  Charter went on to specify that these rights included the “inherent rights of Aboriginal peoples to self-government”, providing some indication that the Province was – at least symbolically – prepared to recognize Aboriginal peoples‟ special role in the preparation of land use plans. Yet, they do not appear to have engendered substantial First Nation support or commitment to the process. In 1993, CORE published a discussion paper summarizing the lack of meaningful Aboriginal participation, as well as what it saw as the primary barriers to achieving a more effective model. These barriers included First Nations‟ desire to engage on a government-to-government basis: First Nations have been struggling for the recognition of their inherent right to govern for some time and want negotiations to be conducted on a government-to-government basis. Most do not want to negotiate with nongovernment interests over their traditional lands until they have secured their rightful place in Canada through the process of treaty-making. Most support the initiatives of CORE, but fear that participation in the regional processes, before a government-to-government protocol is established, may be interpreted to mean that they are prepared to negotiate their rights with nongovernment interests at the table. Some have suggested a re-design of the CORE regional processes to acknowledge the government-to-government relationship (1993a: 3) This passage conveys a certain amount of sensitivity to First Nation‟s desire to widen the scope of government-to-government decision-making, but the possibility of establishing a more elaborate G2G model was dismissed as outside of the Commission‟s mandate. Instead, the report referenced another initiative to establish government-to-government policy forums with two of the province‟s largest First Nation organizations: the Union of BC Indian Chiefs and the First Nations Summit. CORE recognized that there would be a need to “implement, monitor and enforce the policy decisions [arising out of these forums] and link them to other initiatives” (BC. CORE 1993a: 4), but ultimately maintained its course. In November 1994, the Commission released its 4-volume vision for a Provincial Land Use Strategy, which included a number of indications as to how it conceptualized the nature and depth of Aboriginal involvement in Strategic Land Use Planning. The Commission‟s 57 recommendations regarding the overall planning system included the following passages about First Nation interests and involvement: Encouraging Participation 46. First Nations should be actively encouraged to participate in joint land use planning processes to identify and agree on sustainable land use objectives and zoning  90  47. First Nation participation in land use planning processes should be encouraged by ensuring that sufficient resources are available to support their effective participation, by making resource inventories available to them, and through protocols on data collection and sharing, including data on sustenance uses 48. Protocol agreements between the province, local governments and First Nations should be encouraged to facilitate First Nations involvement in land use planning processes. Agreements could include provisions that clarify the “without prejudice” policy, the roles of First Nations as planning participants, interim resource management policies and procedures, and First Nations roles in data and information collection, and resources available to assist First Nations in building their capacity to participate. Approval 49. While First Nation participation in planning is preferred, if such participation is not possible, then cabinet should consult with First Nations prior to the formal approval of plans in order to identify potential prejudice to their aboriginal rights and treaty negotiations and to seek necessary interim agreements (BC. CORE 1994b: 109). On the surface, these recommendations might seem analogous to current definitions of G2G, but there are other indications that suggest CORE had a more restricted view than what exists today. In the Commission‟s mind, First Nations had three basic options when their traditional territories were being considered for Strategic Land Use Planning: 1) no participation; 2) partial participation; and 3) full participation. Partial participation was defined as either being an observer to the table or periodic participation. Being involved in the design of the process, and perhaps even suggesting its initiation, was seen as one of the markers of full participation. Regardless of what option affected First Nations chose, CORE asserted that the plans and recommendations that arose out of the community-based planning table “must be reviewed on a government-to-government basis to determine the implications for aboriginal rights and treaty negotiations” (1994c: 60). Additional details on the nature of this G2G review process are found in the Vancouver Island Land Use Plan (BC. CORE 1994d), finalized and released by CORE approximately 9 months before the Land Use Strategy. Unlike more recent iterations, the G2G relationship was not a bilateral approval process, but rather joint and often confidential fact-finding missions to support the development of interim agreements while treaty negotiations were underway. The G2G relationship appeared more as an „add-on‟ – a relatively small step, late in the overall process – rather than a foundational aspect of process design.  91  Yet, not all of the land use planning processes underway in the early 1990s succumbed to what might best be described as a political deferral, whereby provincially sponsored Strategic Land Use Planning processes relegated G2G discussions and decision-making to other policy forums and arenas. Planning, it was determined, should not interfere with the government-to-government relationship, and might even contribute valuable information and potential policy solutions, but most G2G discussions were deferred to other initiatives. Clayoquot Sound is perhaps the most dramatic exception to this impoverished view of the link between the emerging G2G relationships and land use planning. In fact, even the Province now considers it to be the only semblance of G2G process in the first five or six years of Strategic Land Use Planning (BC. ILMB 2009a). Yet, the G2G model that was developed for Clayoquot Sound was not completely separate from CORE. Although Clayoquot Sound was officially excluded from the Vancouver Island planning process (BC. CORE 1993b), the Commissioner of Resources and Environment was mandated to make periodic reports on emergent issues. One such report was his response to the wave of controversy that had erupted after the Province released the Clayoquot Sound Land Use Decision in April 1993. Two of the seven recommendations contained in CORE‟s report are particularly germane to the evolution of G2G. The report recommended the establishment of an independent body to monitor the development of new forest management practices and asked the provincial government to clarify how First Nations would be involved in advance of treaties (BC. CORE 1993b). In many regards, CORE‟s recommendations for Clayoquot Sound were completely in line with its existing model for involving First Nations in land use planning. First Nations should be involved – perhaps even on a government-t0-government basis – but only as a stopgap to treaty. The treaty tables were still viewed as the primary site for the renegotiation of Aboriginal-State relations, including the governance of lands and resources. Yet, whether it was intentional or not, CORE‟s call for an independent monitoring body ultimately helped widen the scope of government-to-government planning. The Province‟s response to CORE‟s recommendations ultimately led to the establishment of the “Scientific Panel for Sustainable Forest Practices in Clayoquot Sound” (BC. Scientific Panel 1994). This 19-person panel was to “review current forest management standards and make recommendations for changes and improvements. The goal of the Scientific Panel [was] to develop world-class standards for sustainable forest management by combining  92  traditional and scientific knowledge” (BC. Scientific Panel 1994: 3). Amongst the team of experts trained in the Western sciences and applied sciences – ecologists, foresters, earth scientists, planners and engineers – were a hereditary chief and three First Nation elders. Aboriginal involvement in the panel has been described as “more than symbolic” (Hoberg & Morawski 1997: 400), in that 27 of the panel‟s 120 recommendations were a direct response to First Nation interests. Of particular note was the call for ongoing collaboration between the Province and First Nations, at all planning levels. The Ministers of Forests and the Environment officially accepted all of the panel‟s recommendations in July 1995 and the preexisting Central Region Board was called on to aid implementation (BC 1995b), signaling a significant shift in the conceptualization of G2G. Not only were First Nations involved in the development of new scientifically based forest management standards, but they would also play a major role in translating those standards into tangible plans and policies. The establishment of the Central Region Board was arguably the Province‟s first official recognition that First Nation involvement in land and resource decision-making should not end with the approval of the initial land use plan. Originating in a 1994 Interim Measures Agreement between the Province and five Nuu-chah-nulth First Nations, the Board was described by the Premier of the day as “a government-to-government partnership between the Province of British Columbia and First Nations in the planning of the future of Clayoquot Sound” (BC 1994). It is composed of 10 representatives and 2 co-Chairs. The Province and the Nuu-chah-nulth Nations each appoint a co-Chair and five representatives, who work collaboratively to review and make recommendations on all major land use plans, including the sub-regional and watershed level plans that were recommended by the Scientific Panel (Clayoquot Sound Interim Measures Extension Agreement 2008; Mabee & Hoberg 2006; Hoberg & Morawski 1997). The Central Region Board is not without fault. Serious questions have been raised about the equity of this G2G relationship, due to gross disparities in statutory authority and technical capacity amongst the parties (Mabee & Hoberg 2006). Notwithstanding such functional problems, the establishment of the Central Region Board is still an important step in the evolution of G2G. It represents a clear acceptance of the idea that, if government-to-government planning is to have any meaning, it needs to develop appropriate arenas to ensure that First Nations are involved in all acts of planning, not just the development of the grand visions and coarse resource management zones that characterize initial Strategic Land Use Planning documents. Despite the apparent  93  significance of the Central Region Board, it would be years before a comparable G2G planning body would be established elsewhere in British Columbia. The CORE processes drew to a close in the mid-1990s and Strategic Land Use Planning was shifted over to the new Land Use Coordination Office (LUCO), triggering the development of a whole new set of policy documents and planning procedures. Some have interpreted this shift from CORE to LUCO – and the LRMP program‟s resultant rise to prominence – as a reassertion of provincial control and influence (PROV 5; Wilson 2001). Provincial officials and resource managers would play a much greater role and the citizen planning tables would be clearly wedded to existing inter-agency coordination and management structures (Wilson 2001). But, in terms of the G2G relationship, the differences between the two planning approaches were not nearly as pronounced. The plethora of training materials and planning procedures that were developed to support the provincial roll-out of the LRMP process continued to be plagued by confusing and contradictory language regarding the establishment of a new kind of planning relationship with Aboriginal peoples. Most of the direction was contained in a series of training materials on First Nation participation in the LRMP program (a revised version of which was publicly released in 1998). On the surface these documents appear to be much more in line with the Clayoquot model than with CORE‟s politics of deferral. The Province asserted that the actual planning tables should not be conceived as a G2G forum, but left the door open to increased Aboriginal involvement in process design: Day to day participation at the LRMP [table] should not be considered a formal government-to-government relationship even though provincial representatives may be at the table. These discussions are limited to specific land use decisions based on physical information about the land base. However, establishing the overall design of the LRMP [process] may be considered an aspect of a formal government-to-government relationship. Discussions between the First Nation and the province should start as early as possible to create a mutually acceptable process. Other matters of this nature may be dealt with through a separate government-to-government agreement (BC. LUCO 1998a: “Questions and Answers”). The gap between the land use planning and reconciliation of Aboriginal-State relations appeared to be narrowing. Officially, the Province continued to defer to the treaty process on all issues related to ownership and jurisdiction and continued to define Strategic Land Use Planning as the creation of specific resource management zones and management options. But, unofficially, it seemed to be coming around to the idea that First Nations might not  94  share or be able to accept the separation of their specific resource interests from the broader issues of Aboriginal governance. The Province was beginning to accept that meaningful Aboriginal involvement might be predicated on the creation of alternative engagement structures. The training materials that were developed for senior provincial managers provide additional insight into the origins of the changing nature and scope of Aboriginal engagement in Strategic Land Use Planning. These materials take great care in describing the BC Treaty process and the importance of developing Interim Measures Agreements, such as the joint stewardship model that was developed with the Nuu-chah-nulth of Clayoquot Sound. Interim Measures were positioned as an effective way to demonstrate provincial commitment to the establishment of a fair and equitable process; build First Nation planning capacity; and generally help ease the eventual transition from the pre-to postenvironment. One of the key messages of these training materials was that “LRMP [processes] can [and arguably, also should] be used to implement specific planning requirements of interim measure agreements between the province and aboriginal people.” The Province needed to develop better ways to ensure that Aboriginal participation in the LRMP process accounted for and was sensitive to the increased governance roles that First Nations were expected to secure from the treaty process. As a result, First Nations were presented with a range of engagement options and were invited to decide for themselves how and if they wanted to be included in the LRMP process. These options included:   Becoming members of the Inter-Agency Management Committee, which establishes overall planning framework, reviews final planning products, and makes recommendations to Cabinet and/or the relevant Ministers    Becoming members of the Inter-Agency Planning Team, which coordinates and provides technical and procedural to support to the LRMP Table    Participating at the LRMP Table    Establishing a First Nation liaison or advisory body    Establishing a parallel First Nation planning process    Participating in other public participation events (open houses, etc)    Observing and receiving regular updates on the LRMP Table    No participation (BC. LUCO 1998b: “Overhead #12”)  95  Yet, despite this apparent openness to altering existing institutional structures and including First Nations in higher order decision-making forums, the Province continued to demonstrate a certain amount of reluctance to make fundamental changes to the governance of provincial lands and resources – an important inhibiting factor to the development of a G2G relationship that will be revisited later in the chapter. In fact, as the following table suggests, the Province‟s offer to include First Nations in the inter-agency planning team and management committee was seen more as an elaborate form of consultation than as an offer of collaborative governance: Table 5-1: Provincial training materials’ explanation of the potential impact of treaty settlement on Land and Resource Management Planning (BC. LUCO 1998b: “Overhead #8”)  Activity  Pre-Treaty  Post-Treaty  Table Design  Province  Province & First Nations  Developing Plans  Province & Stakeholders  Increased First Nations  Approving Plans  Province; consult First Nations  Province & First Nations  Implementation  Province; consult First Nations  Province & First Nations  Monitoring  Province; consult First Nations  Province & First Nations  In fairness, the characteristics of the pre- and post-treaty environments were ill-explained and the Province may very well have considered itself to already be at some kind of transitional stage. Nonetheless, the messaging was confusing and appears to have done little to encourage increased Aboriginal engagement in Strategic Land Use Planning. Only the first and last plans to be undertaken during this period were able to secure any kind of government-to-government arrangement (Table 5-2). What they did achieve was nowhere near as strong as the Clayoquot model. Aboriginal participation in the fifteen Land and Resource Management Plans that were approved between 1995 and 2001 was often intermittent or completely non-existing. Separate G2G forums were occasionally used, but there appears to have been a great deal of uncertainty regarding whether they were merely a provincially designed mechanism for Aboriginal consultation or a collaboratively designed governance arrangement (as indicated by the refusal to accommodate the Gitxsan‟s traditional governance systems).  96  Table 5-2: First Nation involvement in the Land and Resource Management Plans approved from 1995 to 2001  Phase III  Phase II  LRMP  First Nation Involvement  Kamloops (1995)  Did not participate at the planning table. Shuswap Nation Tribal Council was a member of the Province‟s Interagency Planning Team and engaged in some G2G discussions towards the end of the planning process (BC 1995a). First Nations were promised a role in implementation; only Shuswap Nation Tribal Council was involved in the preparation of the LRMP, but only in a consultative role (BC 1999e)  Kispiox (1996)  Did not participate or support consensus recommendations (BC 1996a); Province offered a G2G review of the plan, but refused to accommodate the Gitxsan‟s traditional governance system and talks broke down (BC 2001a)  Fort Nelson (1997)  Did not participate in the process (BC 1997d)  Fort St. John (1997)  Did not participate in the process (BC 1997e)  Vanderhoof (1997)  Did not participate in the process (BC 1997f)  Bulkley (1998)  Did not participate in the process. Part way through the process, two First Nations indicated that their participation would require the signing of a Memorandum of Understanding; the Province did not respond to this request (BC 1998)  Dawson Creek (1999)  Intermittent participation at the Table, although some First Nations were clearly uneasy about the potential to prejudice treaty negotiations (BC 1999c)  Fort St. James (1999)  Attended first few months of table meetings, but ultimately chose to focus on treaty negotiation (BC 1999d)  Prince George (1999)  No mention of any First Nation participation, beyond an initial invitation (BC 1999f)  Robson Valley (1999)  Intermittent participation at the table, with a clear assertion that the table was not an appropriate forum to engage in negotiations related to rights and title (BC 1999g)  Cassiar-Iskut-Stikine (2000)  Tahltan participated in the technical support team and at the planning table; participation was defined through a formal agreement with the Province, which affirmed the existence of a G2G relationship between the parties. Other affected First Nations chose to engage solely as observers (BC 2000a)  Lakes (2000)  Did not participate in the process (BC 2000b)  MacKenzie (2000)  Some regularly attended table meetings; others declined or were unable to participate due to ongoing concerns that the LRMP process would prejudice treaty negotiations (BC 2000c)  Okanagan-Shuswap (2001)  Informally participated at the planning table. Reviewed the map products, draft objectives and strategies, and the draft LRMP on a G2G basis; the table considered information gathered during these reviews (BC 2001e)  Kalum (2001)  Minimal participation during the first five years of planning; provincial funding (“contribution agreements”) eventually enabled better representation at the table. First Nation representatives tended to act as liaisons and as a communication channel between their communities and the table. Several First Nations initiated their own land use planning processes; Province agreed to review these land use plans on a G2G basis (BC 2002).  97  The Punctuated Nature of the Central Coast Process To understand how the idea of government-to-government planning was evoked and altered during the Central Coast Land and Resources Management Planning Process, it is important to recognize that this process was incredibly punctuated, with three distinct phases: two different planning tables (separated by the 2001 provincial election and the resultant change in government), followed by approximately two years of focused G2G negotiations. These phases were not a pre-meditated aspect of process design. Rather, they exhibit at least a rough correlation with numerous legal and political changes (Figure 5-1). As a result, the modifications to both CCLRMP process and the associated G2G emerge as a response to a clustering of forces outside of the boundaries of the official planning process – most notably significant changes to Aboriginal law and the re-configuration of non-governmental networks and power structures.  98  Figure 5-1: Significant steps and stages in the Central Coast LRMP Process  99  LRMP Table 1 The first phase officially began in July 1996, with the intention to have a strategic plan for the region‟s land and coastal resources in place three and a half years later (BC 1997c). It was the first and only LRMP to attempt to address the interface between terrestrial and coastal resources. Although this aspect of the process was eventually dropped from the second phase, the evolving document was consistently referred to as an LCRMP (Land and Coastal Resource Management Plan) during the first six years of planning. As with the CORE process and the early LRMPs, stakeholders were invited to participate in the process and to formulate a set of “recommendations to government on the use and management of all Crown lands [and coastal resources], including resource development zones and protected areas” (BC 1996b). However, it soon became clear that the Central Coast was no ordinary LRMP. The Central Coast was one of the first processes where the Province was prepared to (and, perhaps even, had to) venture out beyond the confines of the planning approach developed during the first few years of Land and Resource Management Planning (PROV 4). The geographic realities of the Central Coast were one of the initial drivers of this deviation in approach. Previous LRMP processes had worked through a single multi-stakeholder table. With only three established communities in the northern portion of the plan area, four on the periphery in the south, and limited transportation corridors in between, a single table approach was deemed completely unworkable for the Central Coast (BC 1997a). Subregional forums were created for the north and south plan areas (Figure 5-2), whose work was informed by a third table, known as the Plan Area Forum. The Plan Area Forum was to develop the overall planning vision, goal and objectives, which would be interpreted and operationalized by the sub-regional forums through the identification of potential land use zones and specific management strategies. The integration and resolution of any inconsistencies between the two sub-regional forums would happen at the Plan Area level. An inter-agency planning team, composed of representatives from all orders of government (federal, provincial, municipal and First Nation) was responsible for incorporating input for the three forums into the Central Coast plan (BC 1999a). The membership of all three of these forums tried to strike an appropriate balance between resident and non-resident interest groups. Each included designates from the four orders of government, forestry, labour, tourism, commercial fishing (and aquaculture), recreation, and the conservation sector. The Plan Area Forum was composed of representatives from the North and South Forums as well as other provincial stakeholder groups and associations (BC 1997b).  100  Several area First Nations were involved in the first phase of the Central Coast LRMP process, including the KDC/MTTC/TN First Nations (a precursor to the Nanwakolas Council). The Central Coast Land and Coastal Resource Management Plan: Process Structure and Membership document (BC 1997b) lists the participating Nations and Tribal Councils as follows: Heiltsuk First Nation, Kitasoo First Nation, Nuxalk First Nation, Oweekeno First Nation, Kwaikiult District Council (KDC), Musgamagw Tsawataineuk Tribal Council (MTTC) and Tlowitis Mumtagila First Nation (TN). At the outset of the process, First Nation participation was defined as being both “technical” and “political” in nature. First Nations were invited to participate in the two levels of multi-stakeholder planning forums, as well as the province‟s own inter-agency caucuses and planning teams. They were also assured that they would have the opportunity to review the final plan (SFN 2; BC 1997b). The process structure also included provisions for a separate planning forum for First Nations “to both recognize their distinct standing as a separate government and to provide a vehicle through which First Nations interests relative to land use, as distinct from interests relative to treaty negotiations, may be developed for input into the discussions of the other forums” (BC 1997b: 2). Membership was to be determined by the First Nations that had elected to engage in the Central Coast process. However, the Province‟s initial characterization of the forum suggests that it would be open to Band Council members, elders, and other designated community representatives. The participating First Nations would also be engaged in finding appropriate designates from the provincial and federal governments to attend their meetings. The exact purpose of the First Nations Forum was three-fold: it was to provide a place where participating First Nations could identify and clarify their own interests; to encourage the discussion and potential resolution of issues related to shared territories and overlapping claims; and to provide a forum in which government-to-government negotiations could occur. It is important to note that this last purpose is one of the few references to the need for a government-to-government approach in any of the four documents that guided the efforts of the various planning forums: the Process Structure and Membership, Terms of Reference, Workplan and Ground Rules. Nowhere do these documents define what is actually meant by government-to-government or what would be the markers of a successful G2G process.  101  Such omissions help contextualize comments made by both provincial employees and the representatives of the southern First Nations involved in the early days of the Central Coast process. For although both parties are quick to assert that the idea of a government-togovernment relationship was part of the Central Coast process from the beginning, they also admit that the exact nature and scope of this relationship was not very explicit (SFN 1) and poorly understood (PROV 5). Thus, as one of the provincial employees involved in the early days of the CCLRMP recalls, the idea of government-to-government planning failed to gain any real political, or even conceptual, traction: Government-to-government wasn't really even a foundational piece in those discussions. First Nations certainly talked about it, but government itself hadn't resolved or reconciled what government-to-government meant yet. It was just too early! […] So there was quite a bit of tension in the first couple of years, in terms of process design: on how do we move that forward, how do we take it to the next level?” (PROV 4) For him, that lack of traction was due to a general lack of policy tools and objectives. Unlike the year leading up to the Great Bear Rainforest Agreement, Phase 1 of the process proceeded without the benefit of the New Relationship Policy Statement, which provided clear direction about the need to develop deeper and more meaningful models of First Nation engagement – a key difference that will be revisited towards the end of this chapter. Although the internal dynamics of the CCLRMP process are the subject of a subsequent chapter, it is important to note that participating First Nations and the designated provincial representatives were able to take significant strides towards the development of new ways of working together. By the end of the first LRMP table, their relationship bore little resemblance to where it had been four years earlier. The first two years of table have been described in an internal provincial document as having been “regularly bogged down with rights and title issues, government policy issues, trust issues and rhetoric” (BC. LUCO n.d.: 2): a characterization that the southern First Nations representatives‟ recollections support. They describe their initial participation as “table pounding” (SFN 2) and “barking” (SFN 1) about Aboriginal rights and title. Despite this rather ominous beginning, by June 2000, the southern First Nations and provincial representatives were engaged in “accelerated negotiations” designed to breathe new life into a stagnant process (PROV 5; BC. LUCO n.d.). Arising out of the inability to reach agreement on marine protected areas, these negotiations began as a pilot project, in which a technical team composed of representatives from both the southern First Nations and the Province were authorized to come up with a suite of 102  protected areas in the Broughton Archipelago (PROV 5): a particularly contentious area in Kwakwaka‟wakw territory, known for a longstanding dispute over salmon aquaculture. Buoyed by the success of this initiative, the Province‟s LRMP Process Coordinator presented the results to the Table in Autumn 2000 and was mandated to expand the pilot project to other areas within the planning boundaries: a moment one senior provincial official recalls was “a pivotal point in the government-to-government [relationship]” (PROV 5). What began as a largely symbolic relationship – based solely on some formal promises and emergent institutional structures – was beginning to transform into an actual collaboration whereby First Nations and the Province were leading the preparation of land use plans and proposals. This shift was at least partially triggered by the pending provincial election. The CCLRMP was originally given an “aggressive timeline” (PROV 6) in an effort to finish the process by December 1999 (BC 1997c) – long before one might reasonably foresee a provincial election being called. However, the process had dragged on longer than expected and, by mid-2000, the process had been extended to March 31, 2001. By that time, the New Democratic Party (NDP) had been in office for 4 years, had been racked with scandal and were facing an election that they seemed destined to lose, leading some to conclude that the Central Coast had become an outgoing government‟s “last minute attempt to leave an environmental legacy” (Clapp 2004: 852). The accelerated negotiations provided a workable model that would spearhead the interim results the Province so desperately needed. However, as will be explored in subsequent sections, the expanded scope of the government-to-government relationships was not simply about creating efficiencies and capitalizing on the Province and the southern First Nations‟ growing ability to work together; other, more complicated political dynamics were also at play. Although the idea of government-to-government planning may have been gaining some traction and momentum during this first phase of the CCLRMP, the overall process was starting to spin out of control. The environmental community opted out of the LRMP table – unable to accept the lack of a logging moratorium while planning was underway. By April 1997, Greenpeace and the San Francisco-based Rainforest Action Network had decided to put logging practices in BC‟s temperate rainforest on the top of their agenda. Calls for an international boycott of coastal forest products officially began in June 1997, triggering a fiery response from Premier Clark, who referred to Greenpeace as the “enemies of British  103  Columbia” (Cashore & Bernstein 1997). The forest industry suggested that the threatened halt to coastal forest operations “would be nothing less than a disaster”, citing a potential loss of 20,000 jobs and over $7 billion in revenue, which at that time was 45% of BC‟s annual forest product sales (Luke 1997). By 1998, the environmental community‟s call to save the “Great Bear Rainforest” – a reference to the presence of the genetically distinct white “spirit bear” and the province‟s largest concentration of unlogged watersheds – had begun to take hold. Twenty-seven U.S. companies, including Starbucks and the makers of Post-It notes, publicly rejected “ancient” forest products by taking out an ad in the New York Times. Several European paper buyers and lumber suppliers made similar vows and canceled contracts (Curtis 1999). However, the real turning point appears to have been when Home Depot (the world‟s largest timber retailer) and IKEA (the world‟s largest furniture retailer) joined the boycott in late 1999 (Curtis 1999). By January 2000, the boycott had precipitated an unprecedented response from the forest industry. Industry sat down with the environmental community to discuss management options and to negotiate an end to the boycott (Smith & Sterritt 2007). These private negotiations, which are commonly referred to as the Joint Solutions Project, originally involved six major timber companies and four large ENGOs: Western Forest Products, Weyerhauser (originally as Macmillan Bloedel), Canadian Forest Products (Canfor), Fletcher Challenge Canada, International Forest Products (Interfor), West Fraser Timber, Greenpeace, the Sierra Club, the Rainforest Action Network and ForestEthics (Clapp 2004; Smith & Sterritt 2007). By March 2000, these discussions had started to progress towards an uneasy truce: industry agreed to a logging moratorium in 100 contentious watersheds, while the ENGO‟s agreed to stop asking international consumers to cancel their contracts with coastal forest companies (Smith & Sterritt 2007). The agreement was met with considerable resistance from the Province, First Nations and the forest workers‟ union, who all questioned the appropriateness and legitimacy of a bi-party solution (Hamilton 2000; MacLennan 2000; Stueck 2000). The Deputy Minister of Forests was especially direct in his condemnation of the process and seemed to suggest that the existing LRMP Table was the more appropriate decision-making forum: “Ultimately we [the Province] are the landlord and we make those decisions through open democratic processes” (as cited in: Hamilton May 30, 2000: D1). The Joint Solutions Project responded with an “unequivocal apology” and promised to  104  develop better mechanisms to link their work to that of the official LRMP process (MacLennan 2000: A3). The ENGO-industry coalition reached agreement on a new management framework for the Central Coast in late March 2001 (Coast Forest Conservation Initiative [CFCI] Mar. 30, 2001), after the Table had finalized its Interim Recommendations. This Framework Agreement included: strategic deferrals/moratoriums on contentious areas; ecosystem-based management principles and goals; a commitment to independent science; a commitment to develop economic mitigation measures and to explore the possibility of a “new economy”; and support for First Nation protocol agreements (Smith & Sterrit 2007; CFCI Mar. 30, 2001). This final component of the Framework Agreement represents a clear recognition of the emergence of another important player in the Central Coast process. The Joint Solutions Project was not the only discussion forum to emerge, alongside (and, arguably, in opposition to) the official LRMP planning table. After an initial conference hosted by the David Suzuki Foundation, eight First Nations (with territories primarily in the northern plan area) had begun to explore and articulate common planning goals and visions (Smith & Sterritt 2007). Known as the Turning Point Initiative, the Gitga‟at First Nation, Haida Nation, Haisla Nation, Heiltsuk Nation, Kitasoo/Xaixais First Nation, Metlakatla First Nation, Old Massett Village Council, Skidegate Band Council began to assert their interest in ecologically-oriented land and marine planning, as well as the creation of a more diversified economy. Although many of these Nations had elected not to participate in the LRMP Table, they were beginning to explore other mechanisms to ensure that their Aboriginal rights and resource management interests were attended to. Many were beginning to prepare their own land use plans (see, for example: Heiltsuk Tribal Council 2005; Kitasoo/Xai'xais First Nation Council & Hereditary Chiefs 2000), often through the support and assistance provided by the environmental community, and needed to create better mechanisms to help ensure that their land use visions would not be ignored by provincial decision-makers. By April 2001, the three different planning forums (the Joint Solutions Project, the Turning Point Conferences and the LRMP Table) were brought into some kind of rough accord. The LRMP Table‟s interim land use recommendations (dated March 17, 2001) were combined with three other policy pieces to form the Preliminary Central Coast Land and Resource Management Plan, which was finalized on April 4, 2001 (exactly two weeks before the provincial election was called). It included the “Framework Agreement” that had been  105  developed through the ENGO-industry negotiations (Smith & Sterrit 2007; Mortenson 2005); and a new General Protocol Agreement with the Turning Point First Nations. This agreement affirmed the validity of separate, First Nation-led planning processes and promised the creation of a government-to-government forum where First Nations and the Province could resolve outstanding concerns (General Protocol Agreement 2001). A similar protocol was signed a short time later with the KDC/MTTC/TN coalition. It, too, affirmed the importance of a government-to-government dispute resolution process, but (perhaps in recognition of the southern First Nations‟ long-standing role in the process) placed a much greater emphasis on First Nations‟ role in the planning table that would be put in place to support the completion of the CCLRMP. Beyond these more overt twists and turns, underlying discursive and power dynamics were also at play. Several major court rulings came down during the first phase of the Central Coast process, the first of which being the Supreme Court of Canada‟s ruling on Delgamuukw in December 1997. Best known for its definition of the nature of Aboriginal title, the ruling also provided clear direction on the Crown‟s responsibility to consult and accommodate Aboriginal peoples: There is always a duty of consultation. […] In occasional cases, when the breech is less serious or relatively minor, it will be no more than a duty to discuss important decisions that will be taken with respect to lands held pursuant to aboriginal title. […] In most cases, it will be significantly deeper than mere consultation. Some cases may even require the full consent of an aboriginal nation… (Delgamuukw v. British Columbia [1997] 3 SCR 1010: para. 168) A second major court case regarding the duty to consult was launched in January 2000, approximately two and half years into the CCLRMP process. The Haida Nation ostensibly lost their initial case against the Ministry of Forests, in that the trial court found that the Crown had a moral – not legal – duty to consult on the transfer of a Tree Farm License within the Haida‟s traditional territories. The case was appealed to the BC Court of Appeal, which overturned the original decision in February 2001 by asserting that there was a legal duty to consult. Although the Province eventually appealed the decision to the Supreme Court of Canada (the highest judicial level), the Haida and Delgamuukw cases had a profound impact on the Province‟s approach to land use planning. The basic thinking was the Province could “either pay now or pay later" (PROV 2); the time and energy that needed to be invested in developing and sustaining a G2G relationship was a way to prevent lengthy  106  legal disputes. However, there are a number of other indications that suggest that these changes are not as central as initially appears. While those closest to the Central Coast process talk about this tumultuous period with varying degrees of candour, their recollections share a common discursive thread: the Province‟s diminishing sense of authority and control. The courts had created a situation in which it was highly beneficial to draw First Nations in, close to government, in all acts of strategic planning, while the momentum and backlash against the Joint Solutions Project had created a situation in which government wanted to keep certain groups out – or at least hold them at bay: The courts had said there had to be changes…I would put that secondary…the primary drivers were: where were the levers that a Minister had to get some authority (some real authority and not titular authority) back into the realm of the democratically elected government? – Because they'd lost it by 2000 on this file (PROV 1). Developing a closer working relationship with First Nations was an effective way for the Province to re-gain the “social license” (PROV 3) it needed to re-assert its role in the process and to get over the growing controversy. A closer relationship with First Nations had the added benefit of potentially creating an effective buffer or “firewall” against the growing power of the ENGOs and the “distortion” of the market campaigns (PROV 4): …my feeling was that the environmental groups were comfortable with taking on the forest sector, in terms of marketing campaigns, and pushing the envelope, in terms of their conservation interests, but very reluctant to go after the First Nations. And so, strategically speaking (from a provincial point of view), I saw the advantage of… developing a good relationship with First Nations… (PROV 2) The development of this new “strategic alliance” (PROV 5) was not, however, without some significant growing pains. One provincial employee involved in the first few years of the Central Coast LRMP describes the dynamics of this era as being caught between two “bookends” (PROV 6): on one side, you had the pressure of the courts and the strategic benefits of working with First Nations and, on the other, you had the fear of giving up too much control and creating precedent that the Province might come to regret. These fears came to a head at least once during the first phase of the CCLRMP. A senior provincial official recalls being called down to Victoria (the provincial capital), after Deputy Ministers from the other resource management ministries learned of the accelerated negotiations with First Nations. It was only when they were reminded of a Cabinet Committee‟s previous  107  approval of the development of a strategic alliance with First Nations that the work was allowed to continue (PROV 5). If First Nations were going to be introduced as an effective counter-balance to the JSP, there could not be any ambiguity about their government status or about the kinds of institutional arrangements that would need to be created to protect and solidify the G2G relationship. A new protocol agreement between the Province and the southern First Nations was signed in April 2001, which clearly affirmed and more clearly defined the G2G relationship. For although a Memorandum of Understanding had been developed in 1997 (at the outset of the process), the language and tone had changed. The new Enabling Process agreement spoke not about providing the southern First Nations with “the opportunity to express their opinion and position” (MOU 1997), but rather about creating the structures and conditions needed for “continued collaboration” (“Enabling Process” 2001). Out of the five formal agreements that were developed during the 10-year Central Coast process, it was also the only agreement to be signed by the Premier of British Columbia. The southern First Nations do not appear to be unwitting pawns in the Province and the Joint Solution Project‟s apparent struggle for power and influence. They realized the Province could not claim any measure of success unless First Nations were involved in the process (SFN 1) and had developed a better sense of the different political strategies that they might use to protect and advance their interests: When we got involved in this discussion, we understood what the ENGOs were and we understood what industry was, but we didn't understand how far reaching of an impact that they had. We didn't understand what an international boycott meant; we didn't know how to play in that arena. We simply went to a table to try to protect some of our rights and values and we didn't understand how much of the big picture really came into play. [When we found out how the boycotts worked]…we found that there was a place for us in that discussion. […] And it wasn't just to be referee; we got ourselves entrenched in that discussion because we understood that…we had a very powerful, powerful lobby: our culture, our spirits, our communities, our artwork. We understand, now, how to play that within the international marketplace (SFN 2). Framed in the language found in the negotiation literature (Fisher & Ury 1991), the southern First Nations newfound appreciation for market campaigns gave them a strong BATNA (best alternative to a negotiated agreement) - a realization that they may have been able to work to their advantage in terms of the advancement of the G2G relationship.  108  LRMP Table 2: The Completion Table When the post-election LRMP planning process officially began in December 2001 with the re-convening of the planning table, it was a very different structure than what had existed under the NDP government. During the election, the Liberals promised a review of the Central Coast LRMP, which resulted in the development of a more “streamlined” approach to land use planning (BC Ministry of Sustainable Resource Management [MSRM] 2001a; 2001b). For the Central Coast this new approach translated into the creation of a much smaller multi-stakeholder body known as the Completion Table. The Liberal government was prepared to accept virtually all of the commitments made by the previous government in both the Framework and First Nation Agreements, but was unwilling to let the process drag on for much longer: …the new government came in and said, we've got some different ideas on how to run these things – time-bound; that they're not consensus, they're consensus-seeking... They put down a bunch of markers in terms of how to bring this thing to a close (PROV 3). In many respects the overall spirit and intent of the land use planning process remained the same. A diverse group of local, regional and provincial stakeholders were mandated to develop a series of land use recommendations that addressed both the ecological and economic sustainability of the region. However, the number of stakeholders involved would be reduced from over 40 to 17; the table would have less than two years to complete its work (although this deadline would later be extended); and there would be a much more direct line of communication between the process coordinators and senior decision-makers (BC 2001c). The Liberals‟ re-design of the Completion Table process also ushered in major changes to how the various participants engaged in the process. The LRMP Table continued to include representatives from small and large-scale industry; conservationists; recreational groups and tourism; local government; the provincial government; and several First Nations. However, unlike the first table, each major stakeholder group (or sector) only received one seat at the table and the expectation was that the sector‟s formally designated representative would be authorized to make commitments on the entire sector‟s behalf (BC 2001c). Major changes were also made to how provincial representatives engaged in the process. A provincial Process Coordinator worked with and reported to the Chair, overseeing the dayto-day management and facilitation of the process. A second provincial employee (a Regional Director within the Ministry of Sustainable Resource Management) was assigned 109  to the process to represent provincial interests at the table. During the previous table, the provincial voice had been funneled through representatives from each affected ministry or through the team of provincial employees that were supposed to be providing process support. Both methods were deemed unworkable; either ministry representatives were squabbling around the table (PROV 3) or the process support team was caught between trying to be neutral facilitators and ensuring provincial interests were being taken into account (PROV 1). The participating First Nation governments, on the other hand, continued to structure their participation as they had before. For example, the southern First Nations continued to work through the established KDC/MTTC/TN coalition. Some member First Nations sent their own representatives to the table meetings, but most deferred to the two people who represented the coalition as a whole. In terms of the conceptualization of the government-to-government relationship, it is important to note that the Completion Table‟s Terms of Reference had a very similar way of describing First Nation participation at the table and the G2G negotiation process. In fact, the Completion Table‟s Terms of Reference practically cut-and-paste entire sections from the process documents that had been agreed upon back in 1997. It explicitly stated that there would be a parallel process with First Nations to address issues that arise out of the planning and management of land and coastal resources. It included provisions for separate G2G negotiations between the Province and First Nations, should First Nations express significant concerns or disagreement with the Table‟s recommendations. Yet, there are a number of other indicators that suggest that the government-to-government relationship that was being developed during this second phase of the LRMP process was not simply a regurgitation of existing ideas and approaches. For starters, First Nation participation in the process was bolstered by a huge influx of government funding. The Liberals‟ approach to the six „priority‟ land use plans (including the Central Coast), which were already underway or clearly needed to be started when they took office, included $27 million dollars of one-time funding to be distributed over three years. Approximately $2 million a year was allocated to support First Nation engagement (PROV 2). Although that money was to be distributed amongst the interested Nations whose traditional territories are within the six priority land use plans, a significant portion went to the Central Coast at a level of funding far greater than anything LUCO had been able to offer during the first LRMP table (PROV 2). While the available evidence makes it difficult to pinpoint the underlying  110  political rationale for this dramatic increase in funding, connections can be drawn to two external drivers that underlay many of the changes to the G2G relationship that were experienced during the first LRMP Table. For as one senior provincial insider suggests, recent court decisions forced Cabinet to accept that the Central Coast process required a deep and meaningful form of Aboriginal engagement and that this kind of engagement would require a substantial amount of provincial funding (PROV 2). Yet, the “strategic relationship” that the Province formed with First Nations during the height of the controversy over the Joint Solutions Project also suggests that this dramatic increase in the level of funding given to participating First Nations may have also been connected to a provincial desire to create an effective counter-balance to or a buffer against the ENGOindustry coalition. If the Province was to accrue any political – or even pragmatic – benefits from this strategic alliance, it needed to create some incentives to help ensure that this new relationship would be able to sustain itself over time. It had to address the very real lack of financial, technical and political capacity within First Nation communities, while still protecting itself against the dangers of an uncertain or contradictory political front: [A]mongst First Nations, how do you get the professional expertise and the continuity to engage as effective equals with the Province?...where do you get the skilled professionals, as well as the knowledgeable political people, to manage this in a way that has some degree of functional equality... The autarchy answer is „we'll just pour enough money into each Nation that they'll hire whoever they need‟. But, a) there's not enough money in the world; b) it probably still wouldn't work because you're not going to get a consistent approach…Where are the incentives towards consistent, cooperative action? (PROV 1) Ultimately, the Province created a funding system that rewarded the creation of stable First Nation coalitions or “clusters” (PROV 1) willing to engage in the establishment of a longterm G2G agreement. The emerging legal climate was such that the Province couldn‟t deny funding to a Nation that had elected not to join a cluster, but because the amount of money that was allocated to individual Nations would not have been sufficient to hire and train a team of professionals, First Nations could achieve a certain economy of scale if they clustered together and pooled their resources. The clustered First Nations also tended to gain additional access to provincial Ministers and Deputy Ministers (PROV 1). The Liberal government‟s funding program and the associated “sweetheart deals” (PROV 1) further suggest that the Province‟s commitment to the development of a government-to-government relationship was not simply a response to the courts. It was also a deliberative response to 111  the shifting networks and allegiances that led to the emergence of a new political powerhouse in the Joint Solutions Project. The funding arrangement and increased access to senior government officials had a direct impact on how the G2G relationship was understood and enacted during the second phase of the LRMP process. The southern First Nations recall having to “evolve [their] game” (SFN 2), not only by learning how to make best use of the various sub-committees that were set up as part of the second Table, but also their newfound political access. The table discussions were being used as a venue to provide general signals as to where First Nations had a substantive interest in the land-base, but most of their interests were raised in side-table discussions and/or were deferred to the G2G negotiations that would occur after the table completed its recommendations. Those side-table discussions between the southern First Nations and the Province were often used to leverage additional funding to consult the local First Nation communities involved in the KDC/MTTC/TN coalition and to engage in some First Nation-led land use planning. Such jockeying over funding was so prevalent that the Deputy Minister at the time has since described the relationship as having the southern First Nations‟ “hand in [his] pocket” (O‟Riordan 2008) – a joke that was told with no sign of malice; it was simply the cost of maintaining the G2G relationship. Again, many of these changes are not solely the product of changing legal and political conditions but are also strongly connected to the learning and capacity-building processes that occurred within the boundaries of the formal planning process and are the subject of a subsequent chapter. But recent changes to Aboriginal law, combined with the feeling that the Province was losing its authority and control to a network of non-governmental and corporate actors, facilitated and justified the creation of the institutional conditions and incentives needed to engender and sustain the deepening and mutually beneficial collaboration that had emerged out of the first phase of planning. Even so, it was not until the G2G negotiations that these conditions and incentives were transformed into actual institutional structures. G2G Negotiations The Completion Table reached consensus in December 2003 and, by May 2004, the stakeholders‟ resolutions had been transformed into an approximately 100-page document. It included a lengthy description of the social, economic, ecological and cultural characteristics of the plan area, as well as a detailed land use map that delineated and established policy direction for the proposed land use zones. Some of the Table‟s more  112  significant recommendations were that an additional 10% of the land base should be set aside as protected area; almost 12% be designated under a new land use zone that would allow mining, but no other industrial uses; and that the remaining forestry operating areas should be managed according to the principles of ecosystem-based management (BC. CCLRMP Completion Table 2004). Of particular note is the fact that the very title of the report – Central Coast LRMP Completion Table: Report of Consensus Recommendations to the Provincial Government and First Nations – reflected and affirmed First Nations‟ emergent role as that of a collaborating government. These recommendations became the basis of the Province‟s position in the G2G negotiations that took place from 2004 to 2006. Originally intended to be a 90-day process that would “help lead to decisions on the legal designation of the lands and finalization and implementation of the land use plan” (BC. MSRM 2003), the G2G negotiations soon morphed into a layered and nuanced discussion about the creation of a long-term collaborative governance arrangement. It was only when both parties really started to grapple with the complexity of the issues that the negotiation process “really breathed life into itself and became its own beast” (SFN 1) – albeit a beast that was firmly tied to larger political processes. Like the LRMP Tables, the G2G negotiations also occurred in two phases, with the 2005 provincial election falling roughly in the middle. Although the Liberals won the 2005 election – suggesting that there was at least some degree of political continuity and that the separation between the two phases was not nearly as jarring as it had been for the multi-stakeholder planning tables – it would be a mistake to suggest that the transition between “G2G 1” and “G2G 2” was a seamless, gradual evolution. It too was punctuated by the significant legal and political changes that were occurring outside the boundaries of the official planning process. It is important to note, however, that the conceptual division of G2G 1 and G2G 2 is not necessarily shared by First Nations. For example, one Nanwakolas representative asserts that “it was all the same set of negotiations” (SFN 1), while another maintains that the southern First Nations‟ interest was always in securing a long-term governance relationship (SFN 2). Nonetheless, there are several observable differences between the pre- and post-election phases of the G2G negotiations: different negotiators were used during the first and second phases, and each was given a different mandate and adopted different negotiating styles. First Nations and the Province were keenly aware that the members of the Completion Table were waiting on the sidelines while they engaged in their discussions. As a result, the first  113  phase of the G2G negotiations represented an initial push to bring closure to all of the elements that directly pertained to the Completion Table‟s recommendations report. The provincial negotiator‟s mandate during this phase of the negotiations was guided by two basic principles: no further reduction to timber supply and the overall spirit of the table recommendations had to be maintained. The proposed zones could be moved around, but the total proportion of protected areas was to remain the same and substitutions had to represent a similar ecosystem type. In other words, a glacial mountaintop could not take the place of ecologically productive forest in a valley bottom. The negotiating team did, however, have the authority to use their best judgment and could stray from the original mandate if they thought it would help reach agreement (PROV 1). This process of finding ecologically comparable substitutes for candidate protected areas that conflicted with First Nation interests was much more pronounced in the northern portion of the LRMP planning area, as the Nanwakolas Nations maintained a firm, but relatively simple position: they were prepared to accept the protected areas that had been proposed in 2001, at the end of the first LRMP table – but no more. In terms of the actual negotiation sessions, First Nations were largely in control of the format, deciding when and where they should be held, as well as who should be invited to attend. Some of the northern Nations took more of a “town hall” approach, in that the negotiating sessions were open to anyone who wanted to attend. With a long-standing coalition or joint tribal council structure already in place, the southern Nations opted for more of a caucus model. Two of the KDC/MTTC/TN (now KNT) coalition‟s representatives to the LRMP tables continued to negotiate on those Nations‟ behalf. The southern First Nations‟ negotiators would work with designated community representatives (often a Chief or Band Councilor) to clarify that Nations‟ interests and, if desired, they would take an active role in the negotiation process. The community representatives were often present for the map-based discussions about individual land use zones and candidate protected areas would often include the Chief or a Band Councilor from the affected Nation – or Nations, since there is a large degree of overlap between the traditional territories of the different Kwakwaka'wakw Nations. But most of the negotiations were done by the two representatives from the coalition as a whole. Their job was to “build a package” (SFN 1) that would be brought back to individual communities for approval. The Province‟s negotiating team initially consisted of a mid-level manager, who had also been the provincial representative at the Completion Table, and another provincial employee who mostly worked in a supportive  114  role. This negotiating team traveled to the different First Nation communities that wanted to participate in these discussions and usually returned several times with evolving PowerPoint presentations to visually reflect how the discussion was progressing and how First Nation input was being taken into account. By the time the provincial election rolled around in Spring 2005, the map-based discussions were virtually complete, as were the discussions regarding the development of the new ecosystem-based management system that would be applied to all the forestry operating areas on the Central Coast. But with the pressure of the election and the need for Cabinet approval on the substantive results of the G2G negotiations, the development of a long-term governance system was deferred to after the election. Like the second LRMP Table, the second phase of the G2G negotiations was a much more streamlined process. A new provincial negotiator was brought in; a six-month deadline was imposed; and the representatives from the different First Nations were often asked to meet in plenary sessions, in an attempt to create more efficiency within the process. In the words of one senior government official, the Province was no longer looking to address all of First Nations‟ issues in “one big mouthful”, but rather in strategic “bite-sized pieces that we could make decisions on and move forward” (PROV 4). Designing an ongoing governance framework was a key part of being able to move forward, as the issues were simply too complex to lock down in a single comprehensive document and mechanisms needed to be created to ensure that the parties could continue to develop and refine the overall management approach. As a result, the G2G negotiations resulted not in the development of an actual land use plan, but in a series of agreements with affected First Nations. The Nanwakolas Nations signed a Land Use Planning Agreement-in-Principle (AIP), which reflected the parties‟ agreement on land use zones and other resource management directives. Yet, the bulk of the AIP was devoted to the overall institutional framework for ongoing implementation and adaptation (Figure 5-2). Representatives from the southern First Nations are included in all of the major governance bodies, from the scientifically driven EBM Working Group to the strategically oriented Land and Resource Forum. First Nations maintain links with the stakeholder groups that were involved in the Completion Table by sitting on the Plan Implementation and Monitoring Committee. The AIP also included provisions for a government-to-government approach to the completion of more detailed strategic land use  115  plans for each Nation‟s traditional territories and promised the creation of a Clearinghouse Pilot Project. The intent of this Clearinghouse Project was to build First Nations‟ resource management capacity and become more effective participants in the review of resource development applications, thereby ensuring that First Nations are involved in operational decision-making as well. These agreements brought certainty not only to the socio-economic and ecological future of the region, but to the government-to-government relationship that had evolved over the last 10 years: government-to-government planning had, indeed, shifted from an ill-defined concept to a lasting institutional structure.  Ecosystem Based Management (EBM) Working Group  Works on the implementation of EBM in Central & North Coasts  Co-chaired by Province & Central/North Coast First Nations; includes major stakeholders (conservation, economic development, forestry)  Recommends research priorities; coordinates, manages & interprets data  Land and Resource Forum (LRF)  Senior First Nation & Provincial Representatives  Makes high-order policy recommendations to Provincial & First Nation governments  Land and Resource Working Group  First Nation & Provincial representatives  Tracks emergent issues; makes recommendations to LRF  Not included in the KNT AIP Land and Resource Technical Group  Provincial & First Nations’ technical staff  Monitors progress; coordinates with other agencies; develops recommendations  Information/Advice  Management/Direction  Government-to-Government Bodies  Plan Implementation and Monitoring Committee  12-15 major stakeholders, including local government & First Nations.  Ensures ongoing input from the Completion Table  Monitors & reports progress on land use plan implementation; makes recommendations on plan revisions to Provincial and First Nation governments through the LRF; liaises with EBM Working Group  Figure 5-2: Governance framework for implementing the Coastal Land Use Decision (derived from: Land & Resource Protocol Agreement 2006; Land Use Planning AIP 2006)  Again, this shift in the G2G relationship was strongly connected to larger processes of institutional change – one of the most important being the Supreme Court of Canada‟s ruling on the Haida case. As discussed, the Court of Appeal‟s 2001 decision had already provided legal justification for the emerging G2G relationship. Provincial policy did not, however, change significantly until after the Supreme Court ruling. Released in November  116  2004 (not long after the official start of the G2G negotiations), the Haida ruling clearly stated that the Province has a legal duty to consult First Nations and to accommodate their interests. The level and type of the consultation and accommodation measures are to be in proportion to the severity of the potential impacts and strength of the First Nation‟s claim, regardless of whether it has been officially proven/acknowledged through the courts or the signing of a treaty. Chief Justice McLachlin also drew specific attention to the importance of consulting on strategic planning decisions, since these processes tend to be characterized by multi-year decision-making and often establish the general parameters for all other resources planning and management activities. Thus, the Supreme Court decisions effectively ended any residual debate as to whether or not the development of a governmentto-government planning model was a worthy provincial investment. In an apparent response to the new standards that were being developed by the courts, the Premier initiated a series of talks with BC‟s three major Aboriginal organizations in March 2005: a mere four months after the Supreme Court ruling. These discussions resulted in a 5page vision and statement of the principles to guide Aboriginal-Provincial relations. Although agreement on the New Relationship Policy Statement had been reached in April 2005, it was not publicly released until August 2005 – three months after the Liberals had won another majority government. Using much of the same language as the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples, this policy statement promised a new approach to working with First Nations: a government-to-government (G2G) relationship based on the respect, recognition and accommodation of Aboriginal rights and title. First Nations were conceived not as a stakeholder, but as a government partner. Natural resource planning was explicitly identified as an area where these kinds of shared decision-making arrangements were to be pursued. When the BC Legislature reconvened in September 2005, the Premier publicly connected the development of a “new relationship” to the legal and moral duty to consult, which further suggests that the policy statement was a direct response to the courts and an attempt to circumvent additional court cases against the Crown. Yet, despite the policy statement‟s obvious implications for land use planning, its development was quietly contained to the Premier‟s Office. The New Relationship Policy Statement did not play a major role in the Central Coast process until the second phase of G2G negotiations, which began in Autumn 2005.  117  Despite its brevity and general lack of clear administrative direction, the New Relationship Policy Statement provided both the Provincial and First Nation negotiators with the political and discursive support needed to better address institutional design. Provincial staff inside the G2G negotiations started to view the process as a place to explore the pragmatic and administrative aspects of the New Relationship and to establish some benchmarks to guide future processes. It provided them with some clear political support and made them feel like they had a firm leg to stand on, but still left ample room to explore and to adapt to the current context (PROV 4). The New Relationship provided the southern First Nations with additional bargaining power in the G2G negotiations, especially when they felt like the Province was trying to retreat to established policies and procedures. For example, one of the representatives of the southern First Nations recalls at least one instance where he went back to the Province with a strong reminder that “This is the „New Relationship‟; we're talking about all of these new things. Why do you want to use existing pieces of policy for something that we're creating that is new and is supposed to bring life into our communities?" (SFN 2) Thus, the New Relationship Policy Statement invigorated the G2G negotiations and began to function as a normative yardstick. It inspired the provincial negotiator to think outside the confines of existing institutional structures and provided the southern First Nations with a new mechanism to hold the Province to account when it was falling short. Although not all that significant in terms of evolution and expansion of the actual G2G relationship, it is important to note that the industry-ENGO coalition continued to be a major force. The Central Coast LRMP process had been running for nearly 10 years at this point and the socio-economic future of the region would not tolerate this kind of flux and uncertainty for much longer. The Joint Solutions Project was actively engaged in a parallel process, known as the Conservation Investments and Incentives Initiative (CIII), which had been raising funds through private philanthropic organizations to support the shift to a more sustainable resource-based economy and to reduce reliance on industrial forestry. But before these funds could become a reality, they needed a final decision from the Province. The urgency created by the CIII has been cited as a key reason for the change in tack that occurred between G2G 1 and G2G 2 and the expedited negotiation style that characterized the second phase of the process (PROV 4). The Joint Solutions Project‟s role in CIII suggests that, while their presence no longer appears to be the primary catalyst for the deepening of Aboriginal-State relations, they continued to have a major affect on process design. The  118  courts (and the resultant provincial policy response) played a much greater role in terms of driving the expansion and formalization of the G2G relationship during the final negotiation process, but it was the combination of new allegiances and new legal structures that drove the development of a new government-to-government relationship throughout the entire life cycle of the Central Coast process.  Summary and Discussion This confluence of factors generated a collaborative setting that was completely unlike any of the other Strategic Land Use Planning processes that were occurring or had already been completed elsewhere in British Columbia. The Central Coast is, by far, the longest running Land and Resource Management Planning process in the Province and the only one to traverse three political terms, including a major ideological change in government. The two provincial elections that occurred during the Central Coast planning process form the most obvious punctuations in the evolution of the G2G relationship. Firm deadlines were created and new electoral mandates provided the institutional openings needed to step away from previous planning approaches and models, but they were only a superficial driver of institutional change. The more significant factor lies in the Central Coast LRMP process‟ entwinement with the emergence of a new and unprecedented ENGO-industry coalition that had a near crippling affect on traditional authority and governance structures. Governmentto-government planning was, at least partly, constructed as strategic manoeuver that would allow the Province to reassert itself in a process that they perceived was being taken over by the Joint Solutions Project. This strategic alliance enabled and justified both the “accelerated negotiation” process that was set up towards the end of the first LRMP Table and the dramatic increase in financial support and access to senior decision-makers that First Nations experienced during the second Table. Both of these innovations facilitated the redefinition of First Nations‟ role in the planning process, from mere defenders of their Aboriginal rights and title to a politically savvy, government partner. All of these changes occurred against the backdrop of and are further punctuated by changing legal conditions. Several major court cases were released during the Central Coast process‟ 10-year history, generating a much clearer picture of the Province‟s responsibilities towards Aboriginal peoples. The G2G relationship emerged not only as a way for the provincial government to protect itself against losing its control and authority to a new political powerhouse, but also as a way to protect itself against lengthy legal battles. 119  However, it was not until the Supreme Court of Canada rendered its ruling on the Haida case in December 2004 that there was a major change in provincial policy. The release of the New Relationship Policy Statement in August 2005 was arguably the final catalyst in the long chain of institutional reaction and counter-actions that led to government-togovernment planning‟s emergence as a lasting institutional structure – a structure that has since become the new standard for involving Aboriginal peoples in British Columbian Strategic Land Use Planning. Returning to the Province‟s own explanation of the markers of a successful G2G process that were presented at the outset of this paper, all were exhibited during the Central Coast process and were often the result of existing institutional systems‟ reaction and adaptation to changing conditions. The consultation standards that were being developed by the courts justified, and arguably demanded, the collaborative decision-making model best exemplified by the G2G negotiation process and the long-term governance structures it created, while the Province‟s desire to solidify a strategic alliance led to new funding arrangements and the creation of elaborate protocol agreements. These innovations had a profound impact on the Strategic Land Use Planning processes that were initiated after or during the Central Coast process. All of the plans completed after 2004 have undergone separate G2G negotiations between affected First Nations and the Province. The Province‟s Strategic Land Use Planning policy has also been updated and makes reference to many of the innovations and approaches that punctuated the development of the G2G relationship during the Central Coast process. It directs resource managers to “Ensure that planning processes are jointly developed, address capacity, decision-making and conflict resolution, and are mutually acceptable. Strive to reach formal agreement with individual FNs [First Nations] or where possible, aggregations of FNs…on both planning processes and products” (BC. ILMB 2006). Thus, despite the absence of the unique conditions that were experienced during the Central Coast planning process, the basic approach has indeed become the new provincial norm. Such mass diffusion of the ideas and models that were piloted on the Central Coast supports the proposition that institutional evolution begins on the fringes of an established system, under unique social, political and economic conditions. However, the institutionalization of government-to-government planning was not solely a product of such external shocks and drivers. For example, the success of the accelerated negotiations and the southern First Nations‟ newfound political savvy during the second  120  LRMP Table cannot be wholly explained by the courts and the development of new political strategies alone. They simply would not have worked had both parties not learned to conceive of each other not as threats, but as mutually beneficial collaborators. Thus, the real change lies in the interface between the external drivers and the internal processes of mutual learning and capacity-development – the very processes that are explored in the next two chapters.  121  CHAPTER 6  The Nature of the Agreements  Introduction The production and reproduction of institutional structures and arrangements is fundamentally about power. Institutions shape how material resources and political authority are distributed; what individual actors can and cannot do; and the boundaries of culturally-appropriate behaviour. Some of these directives are not written down and are enforced solely through the establishment of shared understandings. Others are formalized through the establishment of written laws, policies and procedures. In British Columbian Aboriginal-State relations, the latter is more common. A general lack of trust and a long history of poor relations demand unambiguous directives to which both parties can be held to account. Thus, the establishment and expansion of a G2G relationship for the planning and management of Central Coast was coupled with the development of formal agreements. Five G2G protocol agreements were signed over the course of the CCLRMP process. Each of these agreements served a distinct purpose and conveyed different degrees of authority (Table 6-1). Some assured the creation of new planning forums and approaches, while others expanded and amended previous innovations and commitments. All adopted a legalistic tone and were physically signed by provincial and southern First Nation designates. The provincial signatory was usually a representative of the Strategic Land Use Planning agency and fluctuated between elected officials and senior civil servants. On the First Nation side, representatives from the KDC/MTTC/T planning coalition signed all but the final Agreement in Principle, which was signed by the Chief (or another appointed designate) of each of the participating First Nations. The fact that at least some of these agreements required approval from the highest orders of both the First Nation and provincial governments underscores their importance and suggests that they were not mere reiterations of established modes of natural resource governance. Instead, these agreements signaled and solidified significant changes to overarching power structures and governance relationships. 122  Table 6-1: Summary information on the five G2G agreements between the southern First Nations and the Province Stated Purpose / Intent 2006 Land Use Planning Agreement-inPrinciple (AIP)  Signatories Province: Minister of Agriculture and Lands; Minister of Environment  To “form the basis for negotiating the final land use planning agreements and other agreements between the Parties contemplated in this AIP”  SFN: Mamalilikulla-Qwe‟Qwa‟Sot‟Em, „Namgis, Tlowitsis, Da‟naxda‟xw Awaetlala, Gwa‟sala„Nakwaxda‟xw, We Wai Kai, We Wai Kum & Kwiakah First Nations  Extend & amend the process set out in the Implementation MOU 2003 Letter of Understanding (LOU)  Identify overall approach for government-to-government discussions to finalize land use agreements Identify associated issues that require agreements of the Parties to support the finalization of land use agreements  Province: Minister of Sustainable Resource Management SFN: KDC, MTTC & Tlowitsis Nation  Enhance KDC/MTTC/TN participation in the coastal economy 2002 ‘Enabling Process’ Implementation MOU 2001 ‘Enabling Process’ Agreement  Outline a coordinated approach for the implementation of the Enabling Process Outline a coordinated approach between the Parties for the implementation of Economic Measures to the member Nations of the KDC/MTTC/TN Confirm “processes for discussions on development of protocols between First Nations and Provincial agencies, as well as continued collaboration in the completion phase of the Central Coast LCRMP after March 31, 2001” Develop “a statement of political intent”  Province: Deputy Minister of Sustainable Resource Management SFNs: KDC, MTTC & Tlowitsis Nation  Province: Premier SFN: KDC, MTTC & Tlowitsis Nation  Identify manner in which the members of the KDC, MTTC & „T‟ will participate in the CCLRMP process; 1997 Memorandum of Understanding (MOU)  Establish the principles upon which each Party will conduct themselves throughout the LRMP process and after completion of the LRMP process Establish a clear & certain process for communication, participation & information sharing between the Parties with respect to the CCLRMP process & its products  Province: Associate Deputy Minster, Land Use Coordination Office Southern First Nations (SFN): Kwaikiutl District Council Society (KDC), Musgamagw Tsawataineuk Council Society (MTTC) & Tlowitsis Nation  Enable the Parties to work together to consider present & future economic & social impacts & opportunities for the member Nations related to the CCLRMP area  123  As Chapter 5 has shown, the evolution of government-to-government planning was a convoluted process, punctuated by key changes to the larger political and legal environment. Notably, the five G2G agreements are often closely associated with these „external shocks‟ and internal responses during the CCLRMP process (see: Figure 5-1). For example, the second G2G agreement, which is known as the „Enabling Process‟ Agreement, was signed in the lead up to the 2001 provincial election, in an apparent attempt to solidify the relationships and approaches that had been developed during the first five years of LRMP planning. As will be shown, this agreement represents a significant advancement from the initial 1997 Memorandum of Understanding, which was signed before the Supreme Court of Canada‟s ruling on Delgamuukw; the BC Court of Appeal‟s ruling on Haida; and the initiation of the Joint Solutions Project. Two more agreements were signed during the Completion Phase: the 2002 „Enabling Process‟ Implementation Agreement and the 2003 Letter of Understanding. Although these agreements lack an overt external driver, both are indicative of how the Province and southern First Nations adapted to their newfound strategic alliance. The 2006 Agreement in Principle was signed after the G2G negotiations were complete and was a key component of the Coastal Land Use Decision. It benefits from both the final ruling on the Haida case and the BC government‟s resultant New Relationship Policy Statement (2005) and is able to take significant steps towards ensuring the longevity of the G2G planning approach. All of these agreements recorded and textually represented the changing governance relationship between the southern First Nations and the Province of British Columbia and, thus, hold valuable clues as to how the government-to-government relationship unfolded and was institutionalized. In addition to helping illustrate the punctuated evolution of the G2G relationship and the role of external shocks, the five protocol agreements also connect to Ostrom‟s work on the classification of formal institutional structures (see: Table 3-1). Chapter 3 has already positioned Strategic Land Use Planning as a collective-choice situation: a way of allocating and creating over-arching policy directives to guide day-to-day resource harvesting and management activities. The original intent of the G2G agreements was to determine and formalize the southern First Nations‟ role in formulation of such collective-choice rules: an „action situation‟ and level of authority that Ostrom (2005) would refer to as constitutionalchoice. Yet, as will be shown, the nature and overall authority of the G2G agreements underwent their own evolutionary process. These agreements not only became increasingly complex, but also extended their authority beyond the specific collective-choice situation  124  known as CCLRMP process. Equally important is the overall discursive character of the G2G agreements. The latter agreements, in particular, also began to embody a new discursive understanding of and way of speaking about the nature (and limitations) of the newfound collaborative governance relationship between the southern First Nations and the Province. The goal of this chapter is to draw out both the substantive and discursive changes to the G2G agreements and to continue to explore how these new directives and commitments are linked to larger processes of institutional change.  The “Grammar of Institutions”: A Meditation on Method Before addressing the nature and scope of the G2G agreements, it is important to explain the manner in which they were analyzed and interpreted. All of the agreements were coded according to the general procedures described in Chapter 4. However, the initial round of coding relied more on deductive and manifest content analysis techniques and was firmly grounded in the analytical approach advocated by Elinor Ostrom. According to the Institutional Analysis and Design (IAD) Framework (see: Chapter 3), the policy, planning and/or governance outcomes that arise out of the action arena need to be understood as a product of the complex interplay between actors and their larger institutional, material and cultural environments. Despite the framework‟s frequent use and privileging of the word „rule‟, Ostrom and her collaborators note and take issue with the ways in which rules, norms and shared strategies have been conflated in the literature and suggest that their disentanglement is key to furthering understanding of how regularized patterns of behaviour come to exist. To this end, they have developed a “grammar of institutions” (Crawford & Ostrom 1995) – a grammar that I apply to the analysis of the five G2G agreements that were developed during the first 10 years of the Central Coast process. Crawford and Ostrom‟s grammar of institutions is based on the observation (or, perhaps, assertion) that norms, rules and shared strategies follow an identifiable syntax. These “institutional statements” adhere to and can be analyzed according to the same basic logic or principles. An institutional statement is defined as “the shared linguistic constraint or opportunity that prescribes, permits, or advises actions or outcomes for actors (both individual and corporate). Institutional statements are spoken, written, or tacitly understood in a form intelligible to actors in an empirical setting” (Crawford & Ostrom 1995: 583). Institutional statements must include some indication as to whom they apply; what the actors are being compelled to do (or not do); when and under what conditions; and the 125  penalties for non-compliance. These core elements are re-framed as the five subcomponents of the grammar of institutions: A  ATTRIBUTES is a holder for any value of a participant-level variable that distinguishes to whom the institutional statement applies  D  DEONTIC is a holder for the three modal verbs using deontic logic: may (permitted), must (obligated), and must not (forbidden)  I  AIM is a holder that describes particular actions or outcomes to which the deontic is assigned  C  CONDITIONS is a holder for those variables which define when, where, how, and to what extent an AIM is permitted, obligatory, or forbidden  O  OR ELSE is a holder for those variables which define the sanctions to be imposed for not following a rule (Crawford & Ostrom 1995: 584)  The three types of institutional statements represent varying degrees of grammatical complexity and only rules include all five sub-components: Shared Strategy: [ATTRIBUTES] [AIM] [CONDITIONS] Norm: [ATTRIBUTES] [DEONTIC] [AIM] [CONDITIONS] Rule: [ATTRIBUTES] [DEONTIC] [AIM] [CONDITIONS] [OR ELSE] With its attention to detail and systematic approach, the grammar of institutions provides a tool to flush out and hone in on the role