The new university gates at College and King’s College Road had barely been unveiled before they were saw the appearance of a 15-foot inflatable rat, last week.
The rat was there as part of a protest against Impact Services, a subcontractor hired to remove asbestos from the Medical Science building. Protestors charged that the workers haven’t been properly trained for the job, putting their own and students’ safety at risk. And they say that U of T’s penny-pinching is leading their contractors to cut corners.
Cutting corners in this particular case would be in close keeping with a larger and disturbing trend of recklessness at U of T when it comes to the safety of its facilities.
In 1999 a substantial chunk of plaster fell from the ceiling of Convocation Hall. Luckily the hall was empty at the time-if it had happened during a class, someone could have been injured.
In the late 1990’s, part of the limestone parapet at the top of the 60 meter physics building was found “resting on a ledge fortuitously located a short distance below,” according to the 2002 Department of Facilities and Services’ report. “After investigation, it was discovered that the majority of the limestone panels up the entire height of the 15-storey tower were in danger of falling because the metal clips holding them in place were corroded through.”
Why are these things happening? According to the same report, it is “a direct result of cutting maintenance budgets to a level where inspections became a luxury, instead of part of the normal operating procedure.” Despite the best efforts of those responsible for campus health and safety, cost cutting “meant inspections were not done, records not updated, and training sessions were limited.”
A year ago, the Ministry of Labour investigated U of T’s asbestos practices and found some problems. They ordered U of T to comply with its own asbestos control policy and to make sure that their contractors followed procedure. It seems unlikely the ministry would have ordered these things unless U of T’s contractors were, indeed, breaking protocol.
Which brings us back to the recent protest. U of T’s director of capital projects admitted that they hadn’t done a “rigorous” inspection of the contractor involved in the Med Sci asbestos removal, though they were poised to do so last week. Our question is, why are U of T’s health and safety practices again in doubt, long after the ministry ordered it to shape up?
It seems once again that U of T’s global ambitions, laudable as they may be, are causing it to reach beyond its means, while the most basic things are neglected. There are now $300 million dollars worth of repairs that are past due. It’s not a lot for us to ask that the ceiling not cave in on us when we attend class, and that we not be unnecessarily exposed to asbestos.
It’s time U of T accepted the fact that the funding shortfall due to many years of provincial cutbacks can’t be magically neutralized by clever re-jigging of its own budget. The experiment in cutting the health and safety budget was a failure-that money was actually needed. The university needs to ensure the health and safety of its students, staff, and faculty before reaching for bigger and better things.
