Kelly McParland: Ottawa’s leaders need to look inside themselves

A moment occurred near the end of the English-language leaders debate that said something important, though it might not have been readily evident.
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Host Steve Paikin informed the four men they each had three minutes to ask a question — any question — of any of the other candidates. The opposition leaders each chose Mark Carney — big surprise — and each in turn launched into long, self-serving monologues that used up so much of the allotted time that Carney had less than a minute to respond. When he tried, he was badgered and interrupted so relentlessly that anyone hoping to hear what he had to say was totally defeated, as, from the look of it, was he.
When Paikin told Carney it was his turn, the Liberal leader indicated he’d like to question himself. Maybe he figured it was the only way he’d get to give an actual response to any of the points the others had put to him. When Paikin persisted, he kind of shrugged, muttered “why not?” and tossed the night’s biggest softball to Conservative leader Pierre Poilievre, who happily knocked it somewhere between the Quebec border and his most fervent followers in Alberta.
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I’m not sure Carney even realized he’d made a mistake. When the evening ended soon afterward, he turned and had a cheery chat with Poilievre, who’d been positioned just off his right elbow all night. God knows what they spoke about. Carney looked chipper enough, as if an amusing thought had occurred to him that he just had to share. Maybe it reflected all his years at ease in boardrooms and upper chambers of influence, surrounded by comfortably-shod sharks. Unfortunately, we weren’t about to find out, since the Leaders’ Debates Commission, in all its monumental ineptitude, had abruptly called off the post-debate question period in which journalists might have asked.
We learned about the change of plan right away, because the assembled pundits were highly upset and couldn’t stop talking about it. All the top media figures got in their licks, justifiably annoyed that they’d been robbed of the chance to perform a key part of their job, a situation they’ve experienced too frequently due to the increasing restrictions and limitations imposed by the parties’ press managers. One after another, they cursed the commission, citing numerous previous examples of its failures and urging it be immediately tossed off a pier.
Perhaps whoever winds up as prime minister will listen. The two most likely figures to do so would be Carney and Poilievre, the only two with a chance of emerging as Canada’s prime minister. Both would have cause to respond, given the effort that goes into the debates and the often limited returns.
While reviews of Thursday’s clash suggested it was, perhaps, not as bad as others, viewers got to spend long periods listening to cryptic orations from Bloc Québécois leader Yves-François Blanchet, who has a real bee in his bonnet over the fact Carney hasn’t called him up for a personal gab since taking over from Justin Trudeau. Blanchet raised the matter in both the French and English debates, noting that several attempts to contact Carney had been ignored, which, after mentioning he never speaks English in Montreal if he can help it, he added to his, no doubt, long list of beefs about the lack of respect showered down on his province.
Both debates were held in Quebec, by the way, which is also the only province that gets an entire evening dedicated largely to its particular set of concerns. Blanchet was accorded a quarter of the speaking time in both, the same as the other three, despite the fact his party exists only in Quebec, runs a fraction of the candidates and has no chance of ever leading the country, all of which would suggest that Quebec, in fact, gets an enormous amount of time, attention and respect, given it remains just one province out of ten. When Blanchet launched into one of his soliloquies, it was as if the evening had slipped into slumber, waking again when he eventually stopped. The others just waited him out.
In a weird way, it was all very Canadian — a mix of bumbling and seriousness, the amateurishness of the organizing commission up against the importance of the content and the gravity of the stakes. There were important issues to be discussed, but for the most part the men on stage couldn’t bring themselves to give one another the opportunity to do so uninterrupted. As he had in French the night before, NDP leader Jagmeet Singh insisted on repeatedly yelling “six!” at Poilievre, holding up six fingers, a reference to a much-debunked allegation about housing starts during a brief period in which Poilievre held responsibility for the portfolio.
If the four men agreed on anything, it was that the threat posed by the ugly new attitude in Washington, with the unpredictability and lack of reliability it represents, constitutes a unique and potentially calamitous danger to the country.
“Canada faces one of the most serious crises in our history,” Carney insists. He’s based his entire campaign on that theme, and the need to prepare for it by remaking Canada in a more formidable, self-reliant format. It’s time for the country to grow up, put on the big-boy pants, quit delegating its security to others to provide, build a resilient economy able to better withstand shocks beyond our control and take on a position in the world that accepts more responsibilities and delivers fewer lectures.
Yup, agreed, all good. Maybe we could start by bringing a better sense of maturity to the nation’s capital and the people who seek our vote. The first order of the next prime minister should be to demand a level of professionalism in Ottawa that’s been sadly lacking in Parliament, among the caucuses, throughout the bureaucracy and in the openness that is often promised to members of the public but is seldom provided. Better government starts at the top, and Ottawa’s power brokers need to look inside themselves as they consider how to bring it about.
National Post