DOOR SECURITY UPDATE
by Alex Van Tol

The winds of change are blowing for BC’s licensed establishments with the new Security Services Act. Publicans are wondering how they’ll cope with a new requirement that dictates that door staff and employees who perform similar security functions undergo extensive training to become licensed security personnel. As with any legislation that changes the rules of the game, there are many concerns and still wrinkles that need to be ironed out.
o who, exactly, is being regulated by this act? Is it just the door staff who regularly perform security functions at a jam-packed nightspot like Buffalo Bills in Whistler, or does it include the bartender at an elegant lounge like the one at Victoria’s Delta Ocean Pointe Resort? Greg Langham, Assistant Registrar for the Ministry of Public Safety and Solicitor General, explains that the Ministry is taking a hard look at what a worker’s designated duties are. “A bartender’s primary duty is to serve drinks,” he says. “If the bartender is asked to help escort people out of the premises, our job is to determine what his role is at that time. We’re not forcing [a pub] to have a security person; we’re going to look at what the designated duties are. It’s a bit nebulous at this point, but we’re in meetings to determine this.” Though it sounds reasonable, Kim Haakstad, Executive Director of ABLE, points out that it may not be so easy. A big concern for many publicans is how to meet licensing requirements during events that only occur a few times a year, like the Grey Cup, Stanley Cup, or Superbowl Sunday, when all hands are on deck to help out with the crowds. “If you have someone at the door checking IDs, another taking money, and someone else holding up fire regulations, although it happens only a few times a year, [the Ministry says] that those people need to be licensed.”


The new legislation is perceived as an unwelcome development by an industry that already faces struggles with staff recruitment and retention. Many pubs work with a transient workforce and during the current labour shortage they’re using temporary foreign workers and travelling students, so the pub would always be enrolling new people in the course. “It’s relatively low paying, there’s high turnover, and there is difficulty recruiting,” Langham concedes. “We’re cognizant of those issues, and we’re having discussions about it. Our role is to help find a way for industry to meet these requirements.” Under the new act, an employee seeking a licence needs to complete at least 64 hours of mandatory training, comprising two courses: Basic Standards Training I, a 40-hour course that covers the legal, ethical, and personal aspects of security; and Basic Standards II, an additional 24-hour module that teaches tactical communication and the use of force. BST II is offered at more than 50 security training schools across the province, while BST I is available at security schools and online through the Justice Institute of BC (JIBC), the body responsible for overseeing training programs throughout the province. Costs for both modules combined range from about $300 to more than $500. “It’s a very basic standard,” says Langham. “The responsibility of the employer is to follow it up and ensure the training is site-specific.”


Basic or not, the security standards as laid out by JIBC are felt by many to be inappropriate to the type of work door staff actually do. Haakstad observes that the type of security work performed in a busy nightclub is quite different than that of a security guard at a shopping mall, although the legislation equates the two. There’s also a vast difference between a hostess who greets and seats guests vs. a bouncer. The unwieldiness of licensing every employee performing door security becomes apparent in the case of a venue like Vancouver’s Commodore Ballroom, where there can be upwards of 18 staff at the doors on a given night. Not only would licensing all door staff be impractical, but as Haakstad explains, the situation becomes confusing and potentially dangerous when one or more licensed staff members are unable to report to work. “What if someone calls in sick? Can you leave the door unmanned? Can you put an untrained person on?” Haakstad notes that the biggest security concern for a busy club is not the people who come in the main doors; it’s the ones who sneak in the back - individuals who may be underaged, intoxicated, or known gang members concealing weapons - who pose the greatest threat. Should a door be left unmanned because a licensed staff member is unavailable, bar staff and patrons are put at risk. Kurt Pyrch, owner of the Best Western Cowichan Valley Inn and Vice-President of ABLE, agrees and notes that the expense and inconvenience of the legislation may cause publicans who normally use door staff to move away from having security at all. “Because of that, the problems that the act is trying to prevent will actually be increased,” Pyrch notes. In the view of many, the Security Services Act is simply a bureaucratic knee-jerk in response to the unfortunate death of a young man at a Nanaimo bar last year. Some see the incoming legislation as heavy-handed and unattainable. “Sixty-four hours is two weeks of working full-time,” says Haakstad, noting that many door staff work an average of 12 hours a week.


In the words of the Ministry, the Security Services Act is an effort to bring regulations for in-house and contracted security into closer alignment with one another. The previous act did not regulate any aspect of security that was termed “in-house”, such as at hospitals, universities, or nightclubs that were in and of themselves not security companies but that employed security people. “We had to level the playing field, so to speak,” says Langham, “to bring those security workers into line with the regulations that also apply to private security.” In the eyes of lawmakers, door staff engage in the same type of work and have the potential for the same type of contact with the public as do licensed security guards (for example, detaining people and/or escorting them off the premises). The new act will ensure that the same regulations apply to all people who do what the Ministry - and to some extent, the public - perceives as the same type of work. Karen English, Coordinator for Security Training Programs at the JIBC, notes that licensing provides for minimum training standards as well as a greater level of public accountability. “Licensing requires renewal,” says English, “and therefore can restrict any undesirable individuals from working in the area of private security.” 


Though the Security Services Act has been drafted, there’s still some fine-tuning to do. As a result, some places will wait it out to see what the final word is before making a move in the direction of licensing. Nonetheless, it seems that some have already resigned themselves to the new law. In the coming months, more security training schools are anticipated to jump onboard to meet the heightened demand. Since at least another 5,000 workers province-wide will need licences to continue working in the security field, the Ministry is prepared to allow time for this training. “It’s a rollout schedule,” explains Langham, noting that people in the in-house security industry, such as nightclubs and bars, may not need to become licensed until the end of 2008, or even the beginning of 2009. A slow rollout is irrelevant, says Haakstad, if the legislation makes near impossible demands on a beleaguered industry. The act’s inherent unreasonableness will show up quickly when licensed establishments stop employing security staff. Rather than setting a virtually unreachable target, a more reasonable approach is for government to adopt some of the feasible ideas the industry has put forward, such as licensing a few people and then having them oversee the rest of the security staff. “What I keep hearing [from the Ministry] is that it won’t be implemented for two years,” says Haakstad. 


“So why not take those two years and get it right?”