By: Luke Faulks, Staff Writer
SFU students don’t seem to think about the Simon Fraser Student Society (SFSS) much. During the 2018 election, only 2,158 out of around 30,000 students cast a vote for SFSS president. The number of votes cast has consistently declined since then, reaching just 598 votes cast for the president during the 2021 election. That’s just 2% of the SFU student population.
COVID-19 alone can’t account for this low participation — students are emailed electronic ballots for executive committee positions and referendum questions, which should negate any fears of in-person voting during a pandemic. Similarly, the fact that Gabe Liosis, the former president, ran unopposed in 2021 reflects that student interest has been low. Students are simply caring less and less about the SFSS.
When students do care about the Society, it’s often because the SFSS has done something to make the student body angry. Just a few weeks prior to a failure to consult students on the SUB closure, the group sent out a letter calling on the university to increase student consultation when changing policy. The annoyance caused by this hypocrisy is compounded by opaque reasoning on the part of the SFSS when it comes to the building’s closure.
Early on, students need to be informed about what the SFSS means for their time at SFU. SFU provides a program for incoming undergraduates called “University Prep.” While the page has information for everything from faculty information to ways for student-athletes to get involved, it doesn’t mention the unique role of the SFSS. Students come into SFU unaware of the role the SFSS plays in their degrees, despite — among other things — the group’s enormous budget. The SFSS needs to advocate on behalf of themselves, for their inclusion in that introductory program.
The SFSS plays a large role in student life at SFU. The SUB was a $65 million project dedicated to developing the student communities on campus. That its closure is controversial, or that its operating hours are mysteriously incompatible with student life is irrelevant — the building’s existence is a testament to the group’s power. Student money is spent on these projects, so it’s important that students are represented in votes and referenda — like the 2021 SFSS fossil fuel divestment proposal.
Not limited to infrastructure, the SFSS influences university decisions on a broader scope. With the goal of representing student ideals, the SFSS has lobbied for a clear evacuation plan in the event of a fire or explosion at the TMX tank farm (the only access roads on the mountain are adjacent to the tank farm, and could be inaccessible in the event of a fire), more rigorous financial support for students, and adequate reporting methods and resources for survivors of sexual violence. They serve as a platform for all the ways that student life could be improved, including the funding of events like puppy therapy, or the pizza bill of your student union’s movie night.
The SFSS, however, has more potential for enabling student engagement — and good reason to do so. A student advocacy group cannot accurately represent its members without the substantial voter turnout needed to keep it relevant. Representation can only come through student feedback; this demands better student outreach on the part of the SFSS to combat student apathy.
The SFSS further needs to start adapting its election campaigns to a post-COVID-19 world. A more concentrated social media campaign — forgoing the flyers that adorn a now periodically empty campus — would be a good start. Emphasizing giveaways alongside education as to how the SFSS affects students could further play a role in bringing the society back to the scrutiny it needs to stay true to its goals.
The SFSS is a hub for engaged students, a complicated bureaucracy, and often a scapegoat for students’ frustrations with SFU as an institution. Given, and yet somehow despite, all that, it’s worth a second look.
