In a small town like ours, council chambers aren’t just about politics. They’re about people. People we know from around the corner, people whose kids play on the same teams, people who wave as they drive by. That’s why we take this job seriously. Because when councillors drift away from their responsibilities, it’s not just numbers in a report that suffer, it’s us, the people who count on them.
This report is about Councillor Stephanie Regent. It’s based entirely on public records from January 2023 to June 2025, direct observations, and statements from the very council she sits on. And it’s written with a simple goal in mind: to understand, not to attack; to show where public duty falters, and why it matters.
The Rise and Fall of Engagement
When Councillor Regent first came into office, there was reason to be hopeful. People who watched council closely could see the energy she brought in her first year. She spoke up about housing, about supporting local businesses, about making things a little better for the people who call this township home. She was one of the few voices who pushed to keep the Community Improvement Program alive, fighting for small business owners to get a little help. She even helped spark the conversation that led to the current Housing Advisory Task Force.
It felt like someone new was bringing energy into council. It felt like maybe things were shifting in a good way.
But if you look through the record—not the gossip, not the social media chatter, just the council minutes—a pattern starts to emerge. A gradual, steady fading. In 2023, Regent attended most meetings but rarely brought anything new forward. She seconded motions, approved reports, but didn’t lead discussions or introduce policies. You could sense the shift in how little her name showed up in the parts of the minutes where decisions actually get made.
By 2024, it got harder not to notice. Regent was still attending, but more often by phone or electronic link. She didn’t bring forward motions, didn’t step up during key debates—whether it was shoreline policy, housing updates, or infrastructure planning. She stepped away from committee work, the very area where she’d once been so active.
Come 2025, it was all but official. While Regent was technically present, she had become a quiet seat at the table. Rarely speaking up, almost never initiating action, and sometimes absent when big discussions happened. From the public record, it’s hard to point to any moment where she meaningfully pushed for Ward 1 or spoke up for the people who elected her.
What the Record Says: Campaign Promises Left Unfulfilled
In 2022, Regent pledged to:
“Champion local economic growth” — then exited the Economic Development Task Force (EDTF) and failed to introduce economic development motions.
“Support affordable housing” — yet her advocacy dried up as the Housing Advisory Task Force launched without her active participation.
“Stand up for Ward 1” — but records show routine silence on shoreline reforms and infrastructure votes most impacting her ward.
The disconnect between promises and public record is substantial—and sourced. The public has a right to see that disconnect plainly.
Hope Fizzled Out, In the Mayor’s Own Words
Even within council chambers, Regent’s downturn hasn’t gone unnoticed.
Mayor Gerry Lichty remembers how it started. Hopeful, determined, energized.
“When SR started, I was so hopeful—eager, wanting to make a difference… It took about a year for this opinion to start changing.”
She championed housing, spoke up for struggling small businesses, and helped launch the sub-committee that birthed the Housing Advisory Task Force. In those first months, Regent showed exactly what people hope for when they cast a ballot.
But it didn’t last.
“She is passionate about social issues such as housing and our CIP program… She advocates strenuously for this program… She also created the sub-committee that was to look at barriers to building housing—well, up until it went sideways.”
Council carried on. Doctor recruitment, housing policy, economic debates. Things moved forward without her.
“She was supportive but the majority of the work was done by Janice Powell… the majority of councillors carried the load.”
Behind the scenes, Regent’s voice got quieter. Her presence faded from the meetings that mattered. Her early energy dwindled into something that’s become all too common in local politics—showing up just enough to stay in the seat, but no longer enough to move the needle.
Mayor Lichty summed it up bluntly:
“It takes a village—or the entire Council—to make things happen. However, some councillors do more outreach than others.”
That’s where we find ourselves: a councillor who promised to be a leader, fading quietly into the background, while the township waits.
Regent Responds—Hope Remains, But So Do Questions
In response to NFNM’s reporting on housing, including the inclusion of tiny homes in North Frontenac’s zoning amendments—Councillor Regent replied:
“I’m surprised by the content of this article. There is no public criticism of my conduct.”
This response reveals a troubling disconnect. In any healthy democracy, there is always criticism. There are always differing views. Pretending criticism doesn’t exist—measuring success by the absence of public complaint—is a dangerous way to govern. Leadership isn’t about silence, it’s about visible service. It’s about showing up.
Regent also pointed to her past work:
“My precious sub-committee on housing included tiny homes in our work. We’ll see what the task force does.”
But the real story is clearer than that. Her sub-committee wasn’t discarded—it grew. Council took her work and turned it into a permanent Housing Advisory Task Force. Instead of seeing that as a success to build on, Regent disengaged.
I saw it firsthand at recent meetings, one of the most publicly attended council sessions in years. Her emotional outbursts were seen by dozens in person and many more online through public YouTube recordings. At one point, the mayor had to intervene during open council after visible belligerence from Regent.
After one of these sessions, where Regent’s resignations from the EDTF and Police Detachment Board were acknowledged in closing statements, I asked her privately if she was okay.
She shrugged.
Later, she clarified:
“I’m not struggling. I’m being more strategic now. I care deeply about my community.”
There is no doubt she cares. But public service isn’t measured by feelings—it’s measured by action. And the actions show a drift away from the responsibilities voters entrusted her with.
Why This Reporting Matters
This is why NFNM exists.
When councillors go quiet, when the public record leaves things out, someone has to put it back on the table. We’ve asked the tough questions, stood in uncomfortable rooms, and pressed council where others have stayed silent—and the ripple effects are already felt.
NFNM helped push housing reform forward, including the explicit recognition of tiny homes in local zoning policies.
NFNM stood up for freedom of expression in council chambers, defending community voices during contentious debates on censorship.
NFNM raised serious concerns about a conflict of interest involving the township’s Integrity Commissioner—putting the issue into the public forum when council failed to address it.
NFNM pushed council to publicly acknowledge the risk of setting dangerous precedents on local land disputes, with council members openly questioning decisions for the first time following our reporting.
NFNM flagged transparency issues in proposed changes to council’s procedural policies, prompting formal calls for side-by-side comparisons and greater public disclosure.
NFNM promoted public education on Battery Energy Storage Systems (BESS), encouraging the township to proactively inform residents about industrial projects that could affect rural life.
NFNM raised environmental concerns on the inappropriate use of calcium chloride in public forested trails, forcing a dialogue on environmental protections.
NFNM catalyzed the evolution of a small housing sub-committee into a standing Housing Advisory Task Force with wider influence across North Frontenac.
This has come at a cost. As the founder of NFNM, I’ve been verbally attacked, received personal threats, physically assaulted, and defamed—by the very community I’ve worked to inform and protect. I’ve stood my ground without earning a dime from this work. Because North Frontenac deserves an independent voice that speaks without fear or favour.
Our reporting has made it into council minutes. Our name is on the record. Even the Frontenac News has had no choice but to formally recognize NFNM in their coverage.
We didn’t build this platform for profit, applause, or popularity. We built it because truth matters—and so does this township.
North Frontenac: The Question Remains
Every path in life is a choice. Between stepping up or stepping back. Between silence and the hard truth. Between comfort and accountability.
So this is the question we leave you with:
Is this the representation we deserve?
And for Councillor Regent, maybe the harder question is:
What’s stopping you from being the councillor you promised to be?
NFNM will continue watching, asking questions, and reminding those at the table who they truly work for.
