To earn a second chance, to even try for it, you must be a fighter. You need to be able to pick yourself off the mat and say, “I still have something to give.”
From bitter defeat in 2014, to this moment, where — at the time of writing — Olivia Chow sure looks like she has this race all locked up.
For some, it will be sweet vengeance: a result that is long overdue in a city that has kept too many out for far too long.
For others, her life in public service has left trails that stoke fear and anxiety — to put it mildly.
No matter how you feel, you cannot argue with the fact that if Ms. Chow does indeed win, hers will be a political comeback of astonishing personal satisfaction.
But beyond personal victory, what do these stories, these second acts, represent about our political life? Are they a lazy thing, betraying an electoral lethargy — that we’ll tick a box for the name we know just because we know it? Or do they reveal some essential generosity — our understanding that people don’t always get things right the first time out and may have something new, different and enriched the second time around?
I vote for the latter. Here’s why.
F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote, “There are no second acts in American lives.” But it isn’t true. Nor is it true north of the border.
Let’s remember the man Chow is destined to replace. In 2003, John Tory lost a squeaker of a mayoral race to David Miller. He later lost a devastating election for premier in 2007 and then a byelection in 2009.
Pundits quickly dug his political grave. Yet, lo and behold, seven years later he was elected mayor of Canada’s largest city, defeating both Chow and Doug Ford in the process. The comeback kid went on to establish himself as one of the most electable politicians in the country, winning three decisive campaigns for mayor.
When we zoom out from the heated campaign battles and look at the context of much longer public service careers, we can appreciate just what an extraordinary achievement these comebacks are.
We all lose in different ways — large and small — every day. But few lose on so grand a stage as those in politics. To earn a second chance, to even try for it, you must be a fighter. You need to be able to pick yourself off the mat and say, “I still have something to give.”
And that is far from easy. But there’s something compelling about those who’ve been knocked down. A resilience. A wisdom. A tenacity.
If you win in politics, your opponents will always say (as will Chow’s) that it was just a matter of lucky timing. But that charge is severely diminished when you’ve risen from the depths of defeat to meet that moment. So the truth is that not only are few politicians granted such an opportunity by the electorate, fewer still have the stomach for it.
In this respect, Chow’s (likely successful) mayoral campaign has two vital take-aways. The first is along gendered lines. In her captivating book “No Second Chances,” Kate Graham explores how female politicians are often handed a poisoned chalice and are subjected to double standards, which result in infrequent re-elections.
Chow, unquestionably, fits the first half of this mould — Toronto is in chaos. Only time will tell what the 2026 election will bring. Sadly, in the meantime, one thing’s for certain: Chow will undoubtedly continue to face racism and misogyny as she goes about her work. Of these twin evils, we must be vigilantly opposed.
The second implication of her potential victory is what it says about the state of our democracy. Here, many are worried about our institutions. But I’m most concerned about what holds those institutions up — people.
Second acts, the acceptance that yes, good people can make mistakes, lose at the ballot box and yet can still contribute, make things rights and regain elected office, are signs of hope in an otherwise hopeless time. And they’re just the kind we need now more than ever. So I hope you can find a little inspiration in this, the power of second acts.
This article first appeared in the Toronto Star on June 25, 2023.
