At a City of Toronto budget consultation last year in Scarborough, I noticed something curious.
Staff members circulated through the room taking photographs. Participants sat in groups discussing city priorities. Somewhere near the entrance was a sign indicating that by attending we consented to being photographed.
At the time, I thought little of it.
Later, however, I began seeing many of those photographs online. There were pictures of residents gathered around tables, people speaking into microphones, small groups in discussion, staff facilitating conversations.
The message was unmistakable: Consultation was happening.
Or was it?
The experience left me wondering whether we have quietly redefined what consultation means.
Presence vs participation
Traditionally, consultation was judged by outcomes. Residents were invited to participate because their views might influence decisions. The important questions were straightforward:
- What did people say?
- What did decision-makers hear?
- What changed as a result?
Today, a different form of evidence seems increasingly common. The consultation itself becomes the achievement. The photograph becomes the proof. The social media post becomes the outcome.
A picture of fifty people sitting around tables certainly demonstrates that a meeting occurred. It demonstrates attendance. It demonstrates activity. But it does not demonstrate influence. It does not tell us whether anyone listened. It does not tell us whether recommendations were adopted. It does not tell us whether a budget, policy, or plan changed in response to what was heard.
The photograph proves presence, not participation.
This concern is hardly new. More than fifty years ago, citizen participation scholar Sherry Arnstein warned that many public engagement exercises amounted to what she called tokenism. Citizens were invited to meetings and encouraged to speak, but real decision-making authority remained elsewhere.
The appearance of participation could become a substitute for participation itself. The digital age may have intensified this tendency.
Governments, charities, corporations, universities, and public institutions increasingly communicate through images. A photograph of residents gathered around a table instantly conveys inclusion, engagement, responsiveness, and action. It is far easier to share than a detailed explanation of how public input influenced a final decision.
The result is a subtle shift. We begin measuring consultation by the visibility of the process rather than the impact of the process.
The consultation becomes a performance of listening. Whether listening occurred becomes harder to determine.
But were people heard?
Political scientist Murray Edelman wrote about the symbolic uses of politics. Public institutions often engage in activities that communicate responsiveness and concern even when the substantive outcomes remain unclear. The symbols themselves become politically valuable.
Consultation photography can sometimes serve precisely this purpose. A room full of residents discussing city priorities creates an image of democratic engagement. It reassures the public that government is listening. It demonstrates effort.
What it does not demonstrate is whether the consultation mattered.
This is not an argument against consultation. Nor is it an argument against taking photographs. Many public servants genuinely seek public input and many consultations influence policy in meaningful ways.
But residents should expect more than pictures. The real test of consultation is not whether people were gathered into a room.
The real test is whether their participation altered what happened next. A photograph can show us that people attended.
Only decisions can show us that they were heard.