Category: Chairman’s Desk

This article was originally published in the Toronto Star on June 7, 2020.

In January 1909, a group of notable Americans signed their names to a statement that called for a national conference focused on the civil and political rights of Black Americans. The “Call” was signed by the likes of W.E.B. Dubois and Ida B. Wells, and it contended that the upcoming centenary of Abraham Lincoln’s birth should be a day of “taking stock of the nation’s progress since 1865.”

“How far has [the nation] lived up to the obligations imposed upon it by the Emancipation Proclamation? How far has it gone in assuring to each and every citizen, irrespective of color, the equality of opportunity and equality before the law, which underlie our American institutions and are guaranteed by the Constitution?” asked the letter.

The unfortunate answer, affirmed over a century later by the voices of thousands of Americans this past week, is clear: nowhere near far enough.

Many signatories of the “Call” would go on to form the NAACP, officially established just a few weeks later. In its 111-year history, the NAACP evolved from a relatively small association focused on litigation against Jim Crow laws, into a national organization with half a million members and tangible political power.

Like many civil rights organizations, it was born from emotion, specifically anger, frustration and disappointment in the deferred promise of 1865 (the passage of the 13th amendment). But over the years, civil rights leaders like Dubois and Wells channelled that emotion into positive action, without which the United States would be less free, less equal and less just a society than it is today.

As protests spread this week across the United States and here at home — protests that have jolted so many of us out of our privileged complacency — it’s important to remember the legacy of civil rights organizations and their roots in protest.

The simple fact is that direct action works: from the civil rights movement of the mid-twentieth century to the Stonewall riots and the origins of Pride, protest and civil unrest has long served as a catalyst for important change. The protests surrounding the murder of George Floyd at the hands of Minneapolis police are no different.

Consider just how much the Black Lives Matter movement has evolved since its inception in 2013. What began as a hashtag has grown into an international phenomenon, the animating spirit of the largest protests seen in nearly 50 years. While its actions were once the subject of controversy, corporations and brands now eagerly endorse their message.

Along the way, Black Lives Matter has remained steadfastly committed to its roots as a protest movement. Local chapters of the movement have now, for seven years, led protests in response to far too many deaths, all too similar to George Floyd’s. With each action, the loose network envisioned by the movement’s founders has grown stronger.

The natural question to ask next is what happens to the Black Lives Matter movement from here? Perhaps the movement will go the way of Pride: corporatized and mainstream, far now from its roots in protest. Like Pride, victory here may not ultimately mean a set of policy changes, so much as a shifting of the Overton window — a victory of the public sense of what’s possible and expected.

But regardless of where the movement ultimately goes, this is coming to a head. We are experiencing a once-in-a-generation paroxysm about the health and safety of Black communities, prompted by both the coronavirus and the latest instances of police brutality.

It is not my place to say what the demands of the protestors should be or what shape the movement should take next, but I feel it would be a tragedy to move away from the basis of the movement in protest.

After all, we have seen, again and again, how the courage and leadership of organizers and protestors alike have sustained the movement through years of growth.

That said, any meaningful, sustainable change that comes next will depend on all of us — how our expectations, our behaviour and our attitudes evolve. And that means, first and foremost, looking inward and addressing, in the words of James Baldwin, the “many things we do not wish to know about ourselves.”

This article was originally published in the Toronto Star on May 31, 2020.

When it comes to China, the Trudeau government has acted with the deference a pageboy would show a queen. As they have muddled through a long series of skirmishes, from the arbitrary and unjust kidnapping of Michael Kovrig and Michael Spavor to the trade disputes over canola, soybeans and meat, the objections of the federal government have been muted and overly diplomatic.

For a time, it seemed the COVID-19 pandemic would be no different. The well-substantiated suggestion that China had been less than forthcoming in its disclosures about the virus was dismissed by the federal health minister as a “conspiracy theory.” The minister of foreign affairs twisted himself into a pretzel to avoid even saying the word “Taiwan.” We refused to close our border to flights originating from China. And this week, as Beijing snuffed out the last remnants of the One Country, Two Systems agreement that protected civil liberties in Hong Kong, the most Trudeau could muster was a call for “constructive” dialogue.

But, thankfully, a bright light has appeared on the horizon: plucked from the private sector and appointed Canadian ambassador to China last September, Dominic Barton has gone further than any other Canadian official in criticizing Beijing.

Last week, Barton was in the news for his comments to the Canadian International Council during which he suggested Beijing had accrued “negative soft power” through its belligerent international response to the COVID-19 pandemic, and endorsed a “rigorous review” of the WHO’s response.

By the standard of the Trudeau government, this amounted to surprisingly pointed criticism. More surprising still was the prime minister’s endorsement of this criticism the day after it was reported publicly.

Some had early concerns with Barton, who was appointed to the ambassadorship fresh off his stint as the managing director of the consulting firm McKinsey.

But Barton was a savvy choice. An experienced China hand, and a principled realist, he now uses the qualities that enabled him to succeed brilliantly in business to drive his candid commentary about China.

It is helpful that his concerns are real. In bungling its so-called Mask Diplomacy, China has, indeed, eroded its soft power and further alienated foreign governments. The Netherlands was forced to recall 600,000 faulty masks bought from China; in Spain, 50,000 test kits were tossed out after it was discovered they were only accurate about one-in-three times. The Slovenians bought 1.2 million antibody tests for $16 million dollars, only to discover they were similarly useless. The Czechs have had complaints, and so have the Turks. And, of course, Canada too. The list goes on.

Continue reading on thestar.com.

This article was originally published in the Toronto Star on May 24, 2020.

Of all the inequalities laid bare by the COVID-19 pandemic, there is none more glaring than the profoundly unequal effect it has had on the lives of women.

The impacts are felt everywhere. Primary caregivers have been forced to balance their professional and personal lives like never before, as children stay home from school and work comes home. The psychological and financial pressures of the pandemic have exacerbated the conditions for domestic violence, which impacts Canadian women at a disproportionate rate. Most workers in Canadian long-term care facilities — a group uniquely vulnerable to the spread of COVID-19 — are women.

But the fact is, these issues did not arrive with COVID-19 nor will they disappear with a vaccine.

First, the role of women at home. As we look ahead to the reopening of our economy, the wildly unequal division of labour in most households, along with the expected phased nature of reopening, will pose additional challenges for women seeking to return to work.

While some daycares in Ontario have reopened, schools and camps will be closed until the fall. How can we expect parents to return to work without any feasible options for child care?

Second, in public health terms, women face a crisis with unequal repercussions. Over 50 per cent of Canada’s COVID-19 cases and deaths are women, making us an exception among nations where the prevailing trend is one of majority-male cases. The apparent reasons are that Canadian women live longer than men and many high-risk jobs (like long-term care work) are done by women. But the trend is disturbing nonetheless.

And third, there is the troublingly unequal economic impact for women. Unlike previous recessions that have mostly impacted goods-producing sectors, COVID-19’s devastation has been largely focused on the service economy.

In the 2008/2009 recession, widespread hits to manufacturing and construction meant that a male workforce bore the brunt of the downturn. But, this time out, rather than job sites and warehouses, it is hospitality and retail that are hurting most. As a result, the majority of jobs lost due to COVID-19, in both Canada and the United States, have been held by women. From mid-February to mid-March, nearly 62 per cent of Canadian job losses were experienced by women.

But those numbers hide an even more significant challenge. Many of those women were let go earlier than their male counterparts and their return to the workplace will be a more significant uphill battle.

It’s now clear that what we face in 2020 is not simply a recession but a “she-cession”; one that will impact the economic life of women in a very unequal way.

So what does this mean? It means our governments need to ditch the playbook they used in 2008/2009 and create one that responds to the needs of this particular crisis.

And they have begun to do just that. So far, Trudeau and his cabinet have shown a promising commitment to addressing some of the issues facing women across Canada: $50 million has been provided for services that support women, children and victims of assault and last week; Minister Mary Ng announced a $15 million investment to help female business owners through the pandemic. The augmented Canada Child Benefit announced by the prime minister this week is another step in the right direction.

But compare this to more than $280-billion in overall COVID-19 relief and the case is made that much, much more is needed.

And there are other considerations. Rather than simply focusing on social supports and targeted pandemic spending, the Trudeau government must take a holistic approach that considers the role of women in our wider economic recovery. That means proper tools to track and analyze the unique impact of this crisis along gender lines as well as innovative options for bolstering our service economy to ensure that unemployment trends no longer impact female earners so profoundly. It also means a genuine commitment to tackle the gender inequalities that predate COVID-19 but have been exacerbated by the pandemic.

Getting this right — resolving our systematic challenges as well as our temporal ones — will allow us to come out of this crisis as a stronger, more caring and more successful country.

This article was originally published in the Toronto Star on May 17, 2020.

This week, a furor arose on a topic that feels remote to most Canadians, even more so amid the upheaval of COVID-19: the prime minister’s cottage.

In the context of unprecedented layoffs, a health-care crisis and a looming recession, there are many who find such a conversation tone-deaf. But they miss the point — Harrington Lake and the other official residences do not belong to any politician, rather they are symbols (or should be) that belong to all Canadians.

Though most of us would be hard-pressed to name them, the National Capital Commission maintains six historic official properties. In addition to the iconic Rideau Hall and the famously decrepit 24 Sussex Drive, there is the Opposition leader’s home, Stornoway, the House of Commons Speaker’s Gatineau getaway, “The Farm,” a place for visiting dignitaries to crash, 7 Rideau Gate, and — subject of the latest furor — Harrington Lake.

As sure as the swallows are to return to Capistrano each year, on cue, opposition parties shame the sitting prime minister for spending even a red cent on upkeep of these official residences. And it matters not who is paying the bill. Trudeau Sr. was attacked for allowing supporters to build a swimming pool at 24 Sussex — critics called it a bribe from shadowy donors. When Brian Mulroney dared to spend $308,000 on renovations — much of it funded by the PC Party of Canada — he was accused of “Imelda Marcos-like” extravagance.

Now it is Justin Trudeau’s turn. Since mid-April, Conservatives have been using Google Earth photos to speculate that the prime minister has been secretly building himself a “lakeside mansion” at Harrington Lake. Not so, says the National Capital Commission: they are proceeding with a planned $6.1 million restoration of the main cottage. The prime minster is simply using a newly or — depending on who you ask — ostentatiously rebuilt “farmhouse” in the interim; one that will revert to use by official guests once renovations are done.

As the Liberals have faltered in disclosing information about this latest renovation and the NCC has been forced to play cleanup, the country’s chattering classes or “notables” as they like to call themselves in Ottawa, plunge once again into a familiar pond of rancour; fear of which has dissuaded government after government from keeping these residences in livable condition. And talk about pound-foolish and penny wise. With each delay, the eventual cost increases as the buildings sink further into disrepair.

As a result, the historic properties intended to house our country’s elected leadership are in a sorry state. At 24 Sussex, the wiring is a fire hazard, the boiler is broken, the plumbing jams often, the brickwork is crumbling; the entire place is cooled during the summer months by security-compromising window-mounted air conditioner units. The dining room is too big for a family, but too small for a state function. Asbestos is everywhere, as are rodents. And not the hamsters favoured by the Harper children.

That Canada has allowed these properties to degrade into squalor is a national shame. Across the world, there is a distinguished tradition of official residences for heads of government. Just as 10 Downing Street does for the British or the White House does for the Americans, 24 Sussex should serve as a metonym for our elected government itself.

Yet the disrepair is so bad, the current PM has chosen to abandon it and decamp across the road to Rideau Cottage, which his daily coronavirus updates have made famous.

It’s clear no leader has the political guts to make the obvious case that any renovation would not be in his (or her) personal interest; indeed, the necessary fixes would take longer than any prime minister’s term to complete.

So, it is also clear we need a different approach. We need to take this whole business out of the hands of the politicians and entrust these properties to an independent commission of experts.

Just as we have relied on health care professionals to help guide us through this pandemic, we should rely on architectural experts to help determine the future of these important buildings.

After all, these residences, emblems as they are of our system of government, deserve better. They deserve our care and our respect.

As COVID-19 spreads around the globe, it is reshaping attitudes toward the public and private sectors. Governments are expanding their role, regulating businesses, directing health efforts and supporting laid off workers. Companies are struggling to stay afloat, grappling with the challenges of reopening and complying with the “new normal” of safety protocols and regulations.

How are citizens responding to these shifts? Not surprisingly, they are placing their trust in whoever helps them weather the storm. In most countries, that is the state. According to a survey of 13,200 people in 11 countries, trust in government is up 11 points to 65 per cent globally, the highest level in twenty years. Government trust increased by double digits in six of 11 markets, including the UK (24 points), Canada (20 points), Germany (19 points) and South Korea (16 points).

As confidence in the public sector rises, trust in the private sector has waned. Fifty per cent of respondents believe business is failing to put people before profits, 41 per cent say they are not adequately protecting workers and customers, and 46 per cent say they are letting down suppliers and customers by denying them flexible payment terms. While 47 per cent believe national political leaders are doing an outstanding job tackling the crisis, only 29 per cent believe that CEOs and business leaders are doing the same.

The message to business is clear: if you are not part of the solution, customers will not trust you. And if they do not trust you, they will not stay loyal to you. An earlier poll by the same firm found that 65 per cent of Canadian respondents said a company’s pandemic response will have “a huge impact” on their likelihood to continue purchasing that brand. Seventy-one per cent said putting profits before people would result in those brands “losing my trust forever.”

Companies therefore need to develop a “trust strategy”, to both retain and build trust through the different phases of the pandemic. This can involve multiple elements, including aligning themselves with trusted actors, like government and health officials, contributing to fighting the pandemic by producing goods or supplying services, and ensuring the safety and support of employees and customers by supplying PPE, raising wages or minimizing the spread of disease.

Early examples of successful trust strategies included breweries like Minhas and perfume makers like LVMH, that both pivoted from their core business to making hand sanitizer. They included companies like Lululemon that closed stores yet kept employees on the payroll, and grocery giants like Loblaws that raised the pay of their employees. They included social media companies like Facebook that matched donations for COVID-19 relief, and tech companies like Microsoft that provided free Teams subscriptions to facilitate working from home.

But smaller businesses – indeed, every business – can develop a trust strategy and find ways to contribute. Restaurants can host “Social Distance Dining Nights” where part of the profits help the local food bank. Tech companies can partner with local school boards to get computers for low income students. Fabric suppliers can offer remnants free to clothing manufacturers to produce non-medical grade face masks, which in turn could be given to shoppers when entering local retail stores.

Good deeds must not happen in a vacuum, however. A successful trust strategy includes a well thought out communications plan to showcase how your company is solving, not profiting from, the current crisis. And they must strike the right tone. Empathy is critical but messages cannot appear manipulative. If a business claims it is “there for you”, it must offer concrete proof, not empty words.

Communications must also respect customers’ circumstances, which may now include less disposable income or greater fears for their financial future. Promotions which appear insensitive, or appeal only to the privileged few, can generate backlash, particularly on social media. Remember that while monetary incentives may get customers in the door, trust will keep them coming back.

The right trust strategy is critical and so is the right partner to develop it. This exercise need not be reserved for big businesses alone. Some strategy firms offer blueprints or toolkits that can be adapted to smaller firms for modest cost. In this highly competitive landscape, investing in the right strategy can literally be the difference between making it, or not.

As lockdowns end, people will want to resume as much of their “pre-pandemic” life as possible. That will include patronizing businesses and brands like yours. But customers need to feel that you are on their side. They need to trust that your environment and products are safe. Employees need to feel good about returning to work, and that their employer cares about their well-being. The right trust strategy will allow you to navigate the new business landscape with confidence – and come out stronger on the other side.