When contempt is the default setting

Chris Cook is worried about money again. Not his, of course. Yours. Mine. The taxpayer’s. It’s not surprising. That’s his beat—being ornery about city hall, grumpy about what doesn’t feel […]

Chris Cook is worried about money again. Not his, of course. Yours. Mine. The taxpayer’s.

It’s not surprising. That’s his beat—being ornery about city hall, grumpy about what doesn’t feel respectable enough, and suspicious of any dollar that doesn’t flow into his own bank account (which he would have no problem telling you how much richer he became last month if you ask him). This month, he’s mad about an $8,500 Indigenous art installation and deeply skeptical of the Indwell supportive housing project planned for the former Sarnia General Hospital site. In between, he’s annoyed at city staff, bemoaning a bloated bureaucracy, and frowning at poor people from across the page.

I’m not here to go line-by-line through Cook’s column. But I do want to talk about the posture it represents, and the cost of treating contempt like a public service.

Because while his style might feel like harmless crankiness, it actually does a lot of shaping. Especially in a town like ours. Cook gets read. He is one of the few that keeps writing about what he sees. He frames issues. He sets a tone. And the tone he’s setting—month after month—is one that treats empathy as weakness and complexity as waste.

Let’s take just one example: supportive housing.

Indwell’s proposal for George Street would bring 50 units of deeply affordable, long-term housing to a city that desperately needs it. Their model is clean, clinical, and evidence-based, with support staff, community partners, and a proven track record across Ontario. It’s not a shelter. It’s not a revolving door. And it’s not just charity—it’s infrastructure.

But you’d never know that reading First Monday. You’d think the city was about to build a NIMBY time bomb, or create a new “Rainbow Park with a roof.” You’d think this project was being forced on a quiet, successful neighbourhood rather than being built on the site of a long-abandoned hospital that’s already adjacent to River City’s shelter, Bluewater Health’s detox beds, and a deeply under-served population in real need of support.

Cook’s approach is to amplify fear, give column space to its loudest voices, and then step back with a shrug. He’s just asking questions. He’s just reporting what people are already saying. And sure—maybe he “could be wrong,” but he “usually isn’t.”

That’s a dangerous little dance.

Because when you ask questions with disdain already baked in—when you imply that public housing is a threat, or that paying artists is wasteful, or that bureaucrats are all freeloaders—you aren’t just doing journalism. You’re doing politics. You’re shaping the mood of the city.

And what Sarnia doesn’t need right now is more of that old mood.

The one where wealth equals virtue. Where everyone poor is suspect. Where the only real work is done by the private sector, and the only art worth paying for comes with a fundraising gala.

We’ve spent decades on that setting. And it hasn’t made us better. It’s made us scared. Scared to spend money on things that don’t show up on a balance sheet. Scared to believe in public good. Scared to imagine that care might be worth investing in, even if it isn’t profitable.

I get that people like Chris Cook think they’re standing up for taxpayers. But a taxpayer isn’t a type of person—it’s just a role. You’re not more real because you pay property taxes. You’re not more important because you’re annoyed. And you’re not protecting the city when your default setting is contempt.

You’re just making it harder to build something new.