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The people must decide on electoral reform

This article appeared in the Toronto Star On September 11, 2016.

Referendums are often called to reach a consensus on a way forward. Just as often, however, referendums seem to reinforce deeply bitter divides.

When then-premier Jacques Parizeau famously conceded defeat in Quebec’s 1995 sovereignty referendum, he declared the Yes side had lost due to money and the ethnic vote. The referendum settled the question, but only in the near-term; sovereigntists continued to win a plurality of seats in Quebec for years afterward.

When Britons voted by a narrow margin to leave the European Union, dozens of high-profile media and political figures lamented the ignorance of voters and argued that the referendum need not be binding after all. The voters, they argued, didn’t know what was best for them. Many cited as evidence that ‘What is the EU?’ was the most Googled question in the U.K. in the hours after the vote.

With this in mind, we turn to Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s promise that the 2015 election would be the last election under the current, first-past-the-post electoral system. Some sort of change must be made, argued the Liberals. And so has begun a cross-country consultation to overhaul our arguably outdated electoral system.

There have been previous attempts at electoral reform in Canada, each coming to a crashing halt when subjected to the approval of the voters through referendums. Ontario’s attempt at reform in 2007 and British Columbia’s attempts in 2004 and 2009 all failed.

The Liberals, perhaps informed by the failures of previous Canadian referendums and the recent U.K. experience, have remained uncertain about committing to one this time around.

Democratic Institutions Minister Maryam Monsef recently told a House of Commons committee that ‘although I recognize that a referendum is one way of seeking clarity from Canadians, I remain to be convinced that it is the best way.’ She noted that referendums ‘do not easily lend themselves to effectively deciding complex issues.’

The argument goes like this: In previous referendums, Canadians have voted with little context about how different electoral systems around the world have worked and have opted to remain in the safe, if somewhat flawed, system we have now.

The minister is not wrong.

The federal government faces innumerable decisions every day. It both produces and receives a huge amount of information from commissions, committees and studies on topics as diverse as the environment of salmon on the West Coast to the safety of our infrastructure. It produces and consumes an amount of information impossible for an average citizen to digest.

That is why we elect members of Parliament. Every four years, Canadians decide who will best keep up with the information and the issues and then make informed decisions for us. MPs vote on hundreds of motions, resolutions and bills that require deep knowledge and understanding. And, every four years, should Canadians be unhappy with the decisions of their MPs, they can fire them.

The minister is also not wrong to suggest many Canadians would vote in a referendum on electoral reform without a nuanced understanding of the options in front of them.

She is right to say that referendums are often divisive and that they lack the opportunity for complex debate most issues deserve.

That’s why MPs should be trusted to make decisions on almost every issue that confronts us. They are deeply versed in the issues the country faces. In fact, this forms part of the basis for parliamentary democracy.

However, there is no way MPs can fairly assess whether the method by which they are elected should change. That is because they would be hard pressed to ignore how any change would affect their own electoral situation – in effect, their own, personal job prospects.

Different electoral systems favour different parties and different MPs within those parties. When voting on any changes, some MPs could, depending on the system, be voting themselves out of a job, or into a cushy seat that they would likely never lose.

So that’s why a referendum, with all its many flaws and challenges, is the only way the Canadian electoral system should be changed. To have MPs choose the way they are elected is, to use a shopworn clich’, akin to having the fox guard the henhouse.

Jaime Watt is the executive chairman of Navigator Ltd. and a Conservative strategist.

Crucial lessons from Brexit vote and rise of Trump

The article appeared in the Toronto Star on Sunday, July 3, 2016.

Britons have been deeply skeptical of the European project for decades. Wary of the undemocratic components of the European Union, skittish about the lack of control over immigration, and overwhelmed by strict regulations handed down from Brussels, many felt the negatives of the EU far outweighed the positives.

It’s not difficult to see how the disconnect between the Remain and Leave forces developed: the unemployed 50-year-old woman in Birmingham had certainly not seen her fortunes increase the way the lawyer in London had. The prosperity the elites toasted seemed a far cry from the struggle of the working class in Cardiff.

Last week, the people of the United Kingdom were given the opportunity to say yes or no to the EU. The vote followed two months of dire warnings from Britain’s institutions: the pound would collapse, the economy would sink into recession and the government would be forced to enact strict cuts.

All three major political parties, the Bank of England, countless businesses, foreign leaders and celebrities cajoled, scolded and threatened voters — only for their words to go unheeded, with 52 per cent of Britons voting to leave the EU.

But this is not an isolated incident.

The lack of confidence Britons just exhibited in their institutions should resonate across the Western world.

This spring, we saw the unthinkable: Donald Trump, a brash man prone to racist and misogynistic outbursts, took the Republican Party by surprise. At first dismissed as a blip, the Trump train quickly gained traction to the horror of the Republican establishment.

The more the media, leading Republican politicians and business leaders insulted and attacked Trump, the more traction he gained. His lack of support among the institutional base was the primary reason for his victory, rather than the weakness many assumed it would be.

These are not coincidences.

Globalization and liberalized trade have benefited many in the Western world. Those with post-secondary qualifications and who live in urban centres are enjoying an unprecedented quality of life.

The untold story is that entire swaths of our populations in Western countries have been left behind. Those without the privilege of higher education or access to a fluid employment market are struggling. It remains exceptionally challenging to find steady employment and, for many, the future remains unclear.

The institutions that have benefited so many have disappointed so many others.

For this reason many turn away from institutions they believe have guided them down this path. It is why when a chairperson of a major bank insists they vote one way, they instinctively vote another.

They see no reason to trust that these institutions have their best interests at heart. More problematic still is that it is hard to blame them.

The Brexit referendum was proof. The richer an area, the more likely it was to vote to remain. Fewer than average post-secondary degrees? Almost certainly in favour of leave. High unemployment? Out of the EU, please.

The foundation of Trump’s success is no different.

We must be aware in Canada that we also struggle. We have seen economic devastation in many rural areas that goes unacknowledged in our urban centres and in the media.

A 2013 Statistics Canada study found that only 40 per cent of Canadians expressed confidence in the media, with only 38 per cent trusting our Parliament and a paltry 30 per cent trusting major corporations.

Similar to the case in the U.K. and the U.S., the survey found that poorer and whiter families had the lowest confidence in our economic and governmental institutions of all.

We, and other Western nations, are experiencing a true-to-life Tale of Two Cities. The urban, wealthy class lives a lifestyle that stands in contrast to the economic devastation only a short distance away.

The media, political elites and business leaders have criticized the recent U.S. and U.K. electoral results as racist and ill-informed. By doing so, they are playing into a narrative that they themselves created.

By attacking people who are deeply concerned about their own futures and who mistrust institutions, they will exacerbate tensions.

As nations, we must do better. We must remember those who have been left behind in our incredible success and growth. And we must take steps to rectify the disconnect.

Canada tests the dynastic waters

The article appeared in the Toronto Star on Sunday, June 26, 2016.’

Hillary Clinton’s victory in the June 7 California primary represented more than just establishment political forces prevailing over a Bernie Sanders insurgency. It was yet another notch in the belt for dynastic political families.

Dynastic politics are often challenging: the idea of politicians rising to power under the steam of a family name challenges the ideal of meritocracy we praise in democratic systems. It seems like a revival of the monarchies of the past: sweeping tales of glory, pride and redemption, or, sometimes, rejection.

In recent political history, there have been a number of political dynasties. The Clintons, the Bushes, the Le Pens, the Notleys, the Trudeaus: the list of families in democratic nations that have heavily influenced modern politics is long and growing.

It’s not a particularly difficult phenomenon to understand: voters become intimately familiar with high-profile political figures, and lionize (or demonize) their name and brand. The goals, values and aspirations that voters associate with the parent or spouse who came first in the dynasty are superimposed over the public image of the successor.

Many of these dynasties began decades ago, and almost all were initially headed by men. Those in the family who follow as politicians must embrace the legacy of their parent or spouse, and simultaneously forge their own independent legacy, highlighting differences and divergences.

Recent history shows just how tentative that dance can be.

Jean-Marie Le Pen, founder of the far-right National Front party in France, ignited controversy with inflammatory speeches and anti-immigrant sentiment that appealed to right-wing French voters. His daughter, Marine Le Pen, took over the party in 2011 and has taken it to new heights by adopting many of his ideas, but she has taken steps to highlight a softer, kinder approach. This shift has been reflected in French politics, with Le Pen leading some recent polls on the 2017 French presidential election.

In the United States, George H.W. Bush was elected president as a continuation of Ronald Reagan’s legacy. However, his policy-heavy approach and struggle to connect with average Americans led to his eventual defeat. A little less than a decade later, his son, George W. Bush, was elected as a two-term president. He followed his father’s right-wing agenda, but complemented it with a folksy charm and an easy manner in connecting with Americans.

Closer to home, Alberta Premier Rachel Notley’s father, Grant Notley, served as leader of the moribund Alberta NDP for 16 years. His daughter’s sweeping victory last year would have been unimaginable to a man who had spent decades fighting conservative hegemony. Premier Notley’s centre-left agenda has all the trademarks of her father’s cautious, yet populist-left wing views.

No one need be reminded that our Prime Minister himself is the product of dynastic politics — the son of one of Canada’s most memorable prime ministers. Pierre Elliott Trudeau left an indelible imprint on our society, with his personable charm and his commitment to socially and fiscally liberal policies. Not surprisingly, Justin Trudeau has benefited immensely from his father’s legacy.

The current prime minister followed in his father’s footsteps in many ways. He has pursued many of the nation-building ideals credited to his father. He has inspired a generation of younger voters to engage in the political process. And he has attacked Canada’s economic travails with the same Keynesian strategy his father followed.

But there are also palpable differences. While his father was often described as unbending, our current Prime Minister prides himself on flexibility. Pierre Trudeau enjoyed sparring, while Justin Trudeau prefers co-operation. Trudeau senior was dismissive of giving MPs independence, while Justin Trudeau has promised to empower them.

The politics of dynasties are fascinating — and a relatively new phenomenon in Canada. It remains to be seen how far Canadian voters are willing to allow a brand to stretch. However, it was certainly a harbinger of things to come when, just two months ago, a 19-year-old Ben Harper, the son of former prime minister Stephen Harper, took his first tentative steps into the political arena by penning an op-ed piece criticizing Justin Trudeau for his deficit spending.

Plus ‘a change.

Words have caused great harm to LGBT community

The article appeared in the Toronto Star on Sunday June 19, 2016.

The homophobia politicians unleashed to great effect to win votes for much of the 20th century has deeply poisoned the well

Words matter.

We live in a world where people criticize, slander and insult others in anonymous online comments, where no topic seems to be sacred and few things seem to have the ability to shock.

Instead of expounding on policy issues and engaging in meaningful debate, many politicians willingly express almost any sentiment at the loudest volume, no matter how incendiary, or inexplicable, the comment.

It is difficult to imagine any credible nominee for the presidency of the United States saying such derogatory and xenophobic things as Donald Trump says almost daily.

And yet we continue to hurtle further and further into an abyss where no matter how hurtful, nasty or violent a sentiment is, it is allowed to pass.

As a gay man I have, over my entire life, seen first-hand the power of a single word — the impact it can make in the lives of millions.

George Orwell once said, ‘If thought corrupts language, language can also corrupt thought.’

The horrific shooting in the early hours of Sunday, June 12, at the gay nightclub, Pulse, offers proof of that statement.

Although it seems like ages since homophobic slurs were uttered without hesitation, it was only a decade ago that LGBT rights were used as a political football in the democratic arena.

The polarizing words that politicians used to divide the electorate against the unfamiliar LGBT community were damaging, demeaning and corrosive. Yet, that strategy brought electoral success. George W. Bush’s narrow victories in 2000 and 2004 were credited to his promise to protect traditional families against the threat of equal marriage; governors and premiers across North America found success by planting themselves in opposition to the LGBT community.

Politicians have long exploited the unknown and the unfamiliar to reap electoral benefit. ‘Traditional marriage cannot be severed from its cultural, religious and natural roots without weakening the good influence of society,’ Bush charged in his successful re-election campaign, throwing a sharp focus on the LGBT community.

And though the political landscape has shifted, the struggle continues.

The United States Senate has long tried to pass legislation protecting gays and lesbians at work, only to be stymied by the House of Representatives. In Canada, legislation that would protect the rights of transgendered people has struggled to pass.

Homophobia is a dying strain of thought, a holdover from a different political era.

But dying is a far cry from dead.

Words mattered then, and they matter now. The homophobia that politicians unleashed to great effect to win votes for much of the 20th century has deeply poisoned the well against the LGBT community among large segments of the population.

Let’s make no mistake: the trenchant homophobia that remains among many religious communities must be challenged.

But the language that politicians have used for decades has been deeply harmful to LGBT people. The language against them has corrupted the thoughts of many — and violence has followed. Members of the LGBT community often find themselves the victims of physical and emotional attacks. The massacre at the Orlando nightclub is only the most recent.

LGBT people in Canada and the United States have grown up in a political minefield that has encouraged violence, promoted division and done irreparable harm to their families and the community.

It is no coincidence that LGBT people attempt suicide at a rate nearly 14 times that of the average.

It is for these reasons we must continue to be vigilant. Words are not meaningless; they are not merely expressions that can be thrown around without consequence.

The words that our politicians, our colleagues and our families choose to utter have a profound effect on the lives of so many. Public and private discourse shapes the way society perceives communities of people.

The outrageous ramblings of someone like Donald Trump can occasionally seem amusing. He launches into rants in a way that is almost comedic in its absurdity.

But if there is one lesson we should take from the tragedy in Orlando, it is that words really do matter, and language can corrupt thought.

Jaime Watt is the executive chairman of Navigator Ltd. and a Conservative strategist.