Category: Chairman’s Desk

This article originally appeared in the Toronto Star on February 9, 2020.

If there is one lesson we learned this week, it is that digital media continues to shape politics in ways we still do not understand.

Since its inception, strategists and pundits have treated digital media as a tool: a way of better understanding constituents and expanding reach to them. The reality is very different. Over the past decade, social media platforms and the internet more broadly have fundamentally changed not just the channels we use but the very nature of politics itself.

Consider Donald Trump. It’s not just that social media is the cornerstone of his political strategy, it has defined him as an entity. Without Twitter and Facebook, President Trump simply would not exist. Firstly, Trump’s base of supporters are creatures of social media, which has enveloped them in an echo chamber, validating their feeling that the rest of America has lost its mind, not them. When Trump told them the same thing, that validation was made concrete.

But Trump is not just a master of social media, he is a product of it. From the moment he descended his golden escalator and announced his candidacy, his every impulse has been characterized by a desire to stir controversy and generate clickbait. His obsession with crowd sizes and viewer ratings reflects a metric of success familiar to any social media user: impressions and views.

Trump’s State of the Union address this week was tailor-made for the digital age. Realizing that very few Americans would watch the entire address, Trump opted instead to create made-for-Twitter vignettes to be shared around the world.

Trump was not content with merely calling out the travails of “Lenny Skutniks,” as the invited guests of each president since Reagan are known. Instead, the leader of the free world channelled Oprah and, in real time, handed out a school-voucher scholarship, reunited a military family and awarded a Presidential Medal of Freedom to guests in the crowd. Each dramatic moment fit perfectly into a 90-second clip for digital consumption.

And just as the digital age has shaped our politicians, it has shaped the process of politics, too. Chaos descended on the Iowa Democratic primary this week as malfunctions with a newly implemented reporting app wrought havoc on the process. The historic success of the Buttigieg and Sanders campaigns was thus overshadowed by concerns about the accuracy and consistency of the results.

Trump surrogates were quick to point to Iowa as evidence that Democrats are not ready to run a country. But the Iowa debacle also spoke volumes about a reality of the 2020 campaign: Republicans’ vast dominance over Democrats’ in digital capacity. Even compared to President Obama’s formidable digital operation, the Trump team is miles ahead.

For context, between his 2008 and 2012 campaigns, Obama grew his digital database by roughly 55 per cent. Trump’s team has already grown theirs by 150 per cent and are aiming for list growth closer to 300 per cent. They have invested four times more in social media than television. The reason is simple: in today’s world, digital strategy is the fundamental building block of campaign strategy.

Canadian political parties have been slower in taking this lesson to heart. In 2016, the Trudeau Liberals significantly outspent other parties’ social media advertising. That said, conservative platforms like Canada Proud and Rebel Media have changed the digital playing field, reaching millions of Canadians with highly engaging content.

In the current CPC leadership race, Erin O’Toole’s campaign has already signalled its belief in the importance of social media. In late January, the campaign rolled out a sizable Facebook ad buy.

But just as digital media can provide momentum, it can also kneecap an otherwise solid campaign. Peter MacKay’s campaign was criticized this week for an aggressive Twitter ad that mocked the prime minister’s penchant for yoga classes and spa visits. The reality is that most Canadians have no appetite for the kind of social media attacks that have become the norm in America.

And therein lies the rub. Just as I wrote last week about the lack of consensus when it comes to online grieving, we are now experiencing the same lack of consensus in online campaigning.

This article first appeared in the Toronto Star on January 26, 2020.

Here we go again.

Another race for the leadership of the Conservative Party, another case of medieval ideas rearing their ugly head.

This week it was former Harper staffer Richard Décarie, who shared his views on the LGBTQ community, the very name for which he condemned as a “liberal term.” I’m not about to waste time with a rehash of the rest of Décarie’s views, other than to say they are offensive, outdated and barely coherent.

What is important to note, however, is that every time the Conservative Party countenances such nonsense, Canadians punish them at the polls. Time and again, these kinds of comments on homosexuality have diminished the party’s brand and dashed its chances at electoral success.

Just ask Brad Trost. As a leadership candidate in 2017, Trost flaunted his disdain for the LGBTQ community, going so far as to say that “no leader of the Conservative Party of Canada should march in a ‘gay pride’ parade.” Not only did Trost’s gambit not win him the leadership, but this October, after being an elected MP for 15 years, he lost his riding nomination. So it goes.

The challenge, of course, is that comments like the ones Décarie made are unhelpful for all sensible Canadians searching for an alternative to the federal Liberals or NDP.

It is a tired old canard that Conservatives are, by definition, anti-LGBTQ. As a gay man who has been pilloried for my choice to be a conservative (and yes Mr. Décarie, that is a choice), I know that is not the case. Nonetheless, comments like Décarie’s unfortunately lead decent, pro-LGTBQ Conservatives to be lumped in with his antediluvian rubbish.

It is inevitable that in a country with only one viable right leaning party, there will coalesce a membership with differing views, opinions and lived experiences, which range from social conservatism to fiscally centred conservatism. While I may disagree (and do) with the personal views of certain Conservatives, I know the importance of a big tent party that finds common political ground from which to raise our standard.
People like Décarie, however, would turn that big tent into a circus tent.

One of the fundamental tenets of conservatism is respect: for the individual, for human rights and for the common decency of human beings. So, while I believe our party benefits from diversity of thought and opinion, there is absolutely no room for a leadership candidate who thinks that my rights — or those of any LGBTQ Canadian — are up for debate. They simply are not.

At a time when 91 per cent of Canadians tell pollsters they are comfortable with a LGBTQ person playing a large role in their lives and over three-quarters of Canadians support equal marriage, there are more important issues to address than the ramblings of a man who will never lead the Conservative Party, let alone the country.

Thankfully, this time around, the serious leadership candidates agree. Peter MacKay, Erin O’Toole and Marilyn Gladu all made it clear on Wednesday night that there is no room in the CPC for views like those expressed by Décarie.

Eric Duncan, a new and openly gay Conservative MP for Stormont—Dundas—South Glengarry, playfully offered on Twitter to have a chat with Décarie about Eric’s “life ‘choices.’” It speaks volumes that Décarie was politely rebuffed by an out gay man representing a rural riding for the very party Décarie is seeking to lead. As Canada has changed, so has the Conservative Party.

Hopefully this episode is the last time we are forced to give oxygen to these kinds of ideas, which only serve to distract from the important work of building an alternative to the incumbent government.

And the best way to ensure that outcome, is for Décarie to be humiliated on leadership election day when the results are announced and he has achieved two per cent of the vote.

Perhaps then it will be clear that the party has settled this issue and moved on. What great news that would be for Conservatives and Canadians alike.

This article originally appeared in the Toronto Star on January 19, 2019.

For the last 66 years, Queen Elizabeth has skilfully walked the tight rope between being a bulwark of tradition, keeping things more or less as they have always been and skilfully adjusting as England and the world spun forward around her.

Nothing was ever new; just enhanced.

As the Queen has adopted new technologies — from televising her coronation and annual Christmas speech to increasing the use of social media — who can ever forget her “phone drop” to promote the Invictus Games or her arrival by parachute with James Bond at the opening of the London Olympics — she has, by and large, sought to preserve the decorous traditions of the British monarchy.

The give-and-take (or lack thereof) between tradition and modernity is precisely the tension that fascinates so many. It is this tension that is the dramatic underpinning of Netflix’s biographical drama, “The Crown,” which this week got some real-life experience to add to this theme.

The makings of this new episode began when the Queen’s grandson, Prince Harry, and his wife, Meghan Markle, trademarked “Sussex Royal” and posted a photo to their Instagram account announcing their intention to step back from their royal duties, seek financial independence and take up a new life in North America, all the while honouring “our duty to the Queen, the Commonwealth, and our patronages.”

While news coverage has been devoted to the announcement’s substance, the medium here is equally as important as the message. The Duke and Duchess of Sussex have effectively used social media to leap over their 93-year-old grandmother and family. The Queen of England now finds herself embroiled in a singularly modern predicament: an asymmetrical communications campaign that pits individuals against institutions.

Again and again, we have seen a similar dynamic play out in such situations. While institutions are hamstrung by tradition, bureaucracy, and red tape, individuals are empowered by social media to be self-defining, agile and swift.

Case in point: While Harry and Meghan could rush out their campaign as if it were a lifestyle-brand-in-a-box, (along with the post they launched a website, complete with glossy photographs, inspirational quotations from the likes of Desmond Tutu with web copy written in the tone of an Instagram influencer), the Queen had to resort to issuing her rebuttal statement in two sentences printed on Buckingham Palace letterhead.

The generational divide could not be more clear; nor the implications. This is not a fair fight.

While it may be unpleasant to go up against one’s own family, this dynamic yields the couple a few distinct advantages. First, their new media relations strategy circumvents the depraved British tabloids, and their antiquated “royal rota” system.

While the Royal Family has tolerated no end of vitriol from the press (remember Waity Katie? Or Fergie, the Duchess of Pork?), rationalized by the adage, “We pay, you pose,” Harry and Meghan seek to change the rules, an objective made all the more urgent by the press’ clear double standard when it comes to covering Meghan Markle versus Kate Middleton.

As those same British tabloids have reported breathlessly on the behind-the-scenes machinations at work throughout this entire episode, another advantage has become apparent.

By staking out a clear, public position and then negotiating, the couple most likely stymied attempts by the Queen’s courtiers to delay or dilute their plan. Declaring their intention for a clean break was perhaps the only way for Harry and Meghan to break through the institutional monarchy’s resistance to doing things new.
But if there is a resistance to things new, the Queen, herself, demonstrated last week a willingness to enhance.

In the days since the launch of Sussex Royal, the Queen has followed a playbook of her own. She took charge, summoned all the influence of her court, gathered her family for the so-called Sandringham Summit, and after its conclusion, released a statement cautiously endorsing her grandson’s plan.

But the real news was how the statement was written. One royal historian, speaking to the BBC, remarked that its tone was “unusually personal” with its several references to “my family” or “my grandson.” What’s more, it abandoned the use of formal titles, referring instead to “Harry and Meghan.”

Her Majesty demonstrated, once again, just what it means to enhance.

This article first appeared in the Toronto Star on January 12, 2019.

Over the past week, the world has watched, slack-jawed, as Western relations with Iran have slid precipitously from uneasy détente to open military engagement. Canadians, in particular, were stunned by the horrific deaths of our compatriots, shot down by an Iranian surface-to-air missile.

As the world now knows, on Jan. 3, a U.S. airstrike killed Qassem Soleimani, the country’s most important military leader and the puppet master of Iran’s network of military operations, terror and covert insurgency. Then Iranian forces retaliated with attacks on US Air Force bases in Iraq, seemingly targeted to ensure maximum show of force while avoiding American casualties.

In his response, President Trump signalled a de-escalation of tensions, announcing new sanctions rather than retaliation in kind. A collective sigh of relief was shared by many who feared more military conflict.

But in political terms, the past week has set the region back significantly, shattering the delicate progress which has been hard-won and fiercely guarded.

Last week, the Iraqi parliament voted to expel foreign troops from the country. While the vote was non-binding, it signalled a shift in attitude toward the international coalition which has, for over a decade, worked alongside the Iraqis.

Over the past year, the Iranian regime has faced significant challenges to its authority — from both external adversaries and internal dissidents. The reintroduction of American sanctions in 2018 increased economic pressure, threatening the stability of President Hassan Rouhani’s government. In November, thousands of Iranians took to the streets to protest an increase in gas prices. Many observers spoke of an Arab Spring-like shift in political power. Each of these developments served as a small but significant victory for reformist parties and political moderates.

That all seemed to be under threat this week. Crowds came out in mass numbers to mourn Soleimani, signalling what seemed to be a resurgence in unity among Iranians. Then, just days later, scores of dissidents came out in even greater throngs to protest Rouhani’s government, in light of his admission that Iran had shot down Ukraine International Airlines Flight PS752.

So, the regime’s campaign to make a martyr of Soleimani has been undermined by its own mistakes.

On Feb. 21 — little over a month away — Iranians will vote in their parliamentary election. History tells us the election will be far from perfect, but just months ago, it was predicted that the outcome would be at least a symbolic step toward a more moderate Iran.

The killing of Soleimani could provide a symbol for the regime’s malcontent, to be sure. But moderates and reformers have a rallying point of their own in the senseless killing of 176 passengers by the Iranian military. What’s more, in its violent response to widespread protests this week, including reported use of live ammunition, the Rouhani regime has shown its true nature.

Over the coming days, in lieu of military engagement, the U.S. will unleash the full extent of economic and political pressure against Rouhani’s government. If Trump can successfully convince America’s allies to abandon the Iran nuclear agreement altogether, the return of sanctions will hit the country hard.

The question this time, however, is whether Rouhani will again be able to redirect criticism of his regime towards Western nations, instead. Given all that’s happened in the past week, it seems highly unlikely.

As the prime minister said on Thursday, Canadians have questions and they deserve answers, accountability and above all — justice.

Our armed forces — and those of our allies — now find themselves in a quagmire: attempting to safely extricate some troops from Iraq, without surrendering the ground — strategic, diplomatic and ideological — which has been gained thus far.

For now, all we can do is support our military and give them our undying gratitude.

They, more than anyone, realize the true cost of all that has transpired.

This article originally appeared in the Toronto Star on December 15, 2019.

Most underrated politician of 2019: Only one federal party leader managed to unambiguously improve their party’s lot in the last election: Yves-Francois Blanchet revived the Bloc Québécois with a sharply executed pivot from sovereignty to nationalism. The fifth Bloc leader since 2015, he turned in a tight, eloquent performance in the French-language debates, and then went on to pick up 22 seats.

Now, he intends to make the most of his opportunities in a minority parliament. Just in the last week, he signalled his intent to support the Throne Speech, helping the Liberals clear their first hurdle; and at the same time, threatened the signature achievement of their first term when he opposed the newly agreed-upon CUSMA agreement over a lack of protections for the largely Quebec-based aluminum industry.

Most overrated politician of 2019: The youngest president in French history won the first election he ever contested in 2017 with a party of his own making called En Marche! Lately, Emmanuel Macron has not been doing much moving. In the last year, France has been paralyzed by months of violent protests from the leaderless gilet jaunts, whose yellow vest-wearing participants seem to take issue with him personally. While Notre Dame burned, the protests dragged on, costing the French economy $6.5 billion and injuring hundreds. All the while, Macron has hemmed and hawed, falling back on his favourite phrase “en meme temps.”

As Angela Merkel approaches retirement, Macron has struggled to rise to the occasion as Europe’s champion with comments like the “brain-death of NATO.”

Breakout politician in 2020: If you live in Ontario and have turned on the television or tuned in to the radio any time since the beginning of summer, you’ve probably seen or heard Minister of Education Stephen Lecce. Since the cabinet shuffle in June, he has become the face of the provincial government. Lecce is a rookie MPP, and the youngest education minister in Ontario history, but he has already proven himself to be a capable and disciplined political operator, first as a communications staffer under former Prime Minister Stephen Harper, and then as an MPP and parliamentary assistant to Premier Doug Ford.

Now, having inherited one of the most expansive provincial portfolios, he is unafraid to stake out the government’s position in media interviews. And he is just getting started.

Worst political play in 2019: The Leaders’ Debates Commission was conceived with good intentions. Debates have long been a central part of Canadian election campaigns, and so the commission was charged with organizing two official debates. The key distinction was that they would no longer be organized by a media consortium.

In the end, the debates were ultimately produced by a different, bigger consortium. The final product featured too many moderators, too many interjections, and worst of all, too many participants. Only weeks before the broadcast, the commission made the inexplicable decision to allow Maxime Bernier to participate, admitting him based on polls that turned out to be wildly inaccurate. As a result, the only English-language debate offered to viewers was an interminable slog.

Best political play in 2019: You may not think of Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos as a political player. But the one-time richest man in the world has been forced into the fray, both by dint of his ownership of the Washington Post and by mounting calls for antitrust action against his company. 2019 revealed that the National Enquirer tabloid had, for some time, been functioning as a political tool for President Trump. And so, the best political play of the year pitted one against the other.

When the Enquirer exposed his extramarital affair, Bezos’ own internal investigation concluded the story had been politically motivated. Outraged, the publication threatened that if Bezos did not withdraw the accusation, they would publish his NSFW selfies. In a brilliant chess move, Bezos published the entire exchange online, along with an open-letter condemning the Enquirer’s “practice of blackmail, political favours, political attacks, and corruption,” and asked, “If in my position I can’t stand up to this kind of extortion, how many people can?”

Now, we know the answer: six weeks after the altercation, the Enquirer was sold off for parts.