Don Lenihan

This week, Canada’s Public Policy Forum released Growing Up: Ontario’s Condo Communities Enter a New Era. The report contains over 100 recommendations to renew the Ontario Condominium Act, 1998. It is also a clear example of how and why collaborative policymaking works.

Condo corporations are self-governing communities. They raise revenue from their members (condo fees), elect their own leaders (boards of directors) and make their own rules (bylaws). About 1.3 million Ontarians live in condos and the Act defines how these communities work.

The decision to renew the Act posed a serious challenge for the Ontario Ministry of Consumer Services, which administers it. The issues are often very complex, ranging across finances, building management, governance, dispute resolution and consumer protection — and the prospect of dealing with all of them at once was daunting.

Moreover, the stakes are very high. For most owners, their condo is not only their home, it’s their biggest asset. From an economic perspective, condos are a multi-billion dollar industry that employs tens of thousands of people, from lawyers and managers to builders and cleaning staff.

Supporters of the Quebec ‘charter of values’ say its main goal is to strengthen secularism. While the goal is laudable, the plan to achieve it suffers from a profound misunderstanding of how multiethnic states work. There are important lessons here for everybody.

A secular state is supposed to be neutral with respect to religious beliefs and strive to treat everyone’s religious rights with equal respect. This much is clear. Unfortunately, the Parti Québécois’ view of neutrality is anything but neutral.

I’m not just referring to the hypocritical exemption for the crucifix in the legislature. Some defenders of the charter, such as Daniel Turp, oppose this, but still see the charter as a good way to advance secularism. They’re wrong.

Both the Quebec and Canadian charters of rights describe freedom of religion as freedom of conscience. In religious thought, conscience is the capacity to tell right from wrong. While all great religions recognize this capacity, they understand it differently.

According to Nanos Research, Justin Trudeau is the most trusted federal leader, while Stephen Harper is seen as the most competent.

It’s a strange finding. As Dan Lett argues, people usually link trust to competence. So why are they splitting them apart?

Metaphors and nicknames offer important clues to how people think about politicians. Think of Paul Martin as Mr. Dithers, Jean Chretien as the little guy from Shawinigan or Pierre Trudeau as the gunslinger. These were powerful images because they captured some trait or tendency that people found important.

Nanos’ poll is consistent with a picture of Harper that has been emerging for some time. On one hand, he is seen as secretive, controlling and fiercely partisan. On the other hand, many of the same people see him as a brilliant tactician, strategic thinker and policy analyst — a chess master whose every move is planned in advance.

The metaphor of the chess master has a long history in politics and it fits Harper well. It also explains why he can poll badly on almost everything else, yet still lead on competence. But it’s not the whole story.

The calls keep coming for Justin Trudeau to table his party’s policies. Even Liberals worry that he’s ceding too much ground to his opponents. But what if the next election isn’t about policy? What if it’s about process instead?

Trudeau seems to be gambling on exactly that. Canadians want more than answers, he said last week — they want to be included in the process of finding answers. That calls for a very different kind of policy process and Trudeau says he wants to provide it.

If he’s right, the whole debate over when to release his policies is misplaced. The timing will be dictated by the process, not the leader. The more interesting question is whether Trudeau really will follow through on the plan.

Engaging the public usually is seen as politically risky. Strategists are reluctant to stray far from the tried and true method: Identify some policies that are ‘marketable,’ craft the right message to ‘sell’ them to the public, and then release them at the most opportune time.

If Trudeau succeeds, however, this could be a game-changer that shifts our politics from a culture of selling to one of engaging. So how does he plan to make this work? Two things distinguish his approach from conventional politics.

Quebec Premier Pauline Marois says her government’s ‘charter of Quebec values’ will be a uniting force for the province.

Religious groups, meanwhile, are gearing for battle. They think the new charter is a major retreat from the kind of inclusive, civic nationalism PQ leaders keep saying they believe in. They have a point.

According to Marois, the new charter will reflect both universal values — such as human rights — and Quebec values. Let’s take these one at a time.

First, whatever the PQ might say, the main issue is not a conflict between Quebec values and human rights — as was the case with Bill 101. It is about a tension between two human rights: the equality of citizens and religious freedom.

The equality of citizens requires that governments treat their citizens equally. Discriminating between them is permitted only if there is a compelling reason. By contrast, religious freedom creates a limited but substantial space in which citizens are free to make choices about their religious beliefs and practices, without interference from their governments.

In Australia and Belgium, voter turnout is about 80 per cent and 91 per cent, respectively, thanks to mandatory voting. Canada’s turnout has slumped to 60 per cent from a high of 79 per cent in the early 1960s. Youth participation is a meager 39 per cent. Is mandatory voting the right solution for Canadians?

I think not — but not for the usual reasons. When we ask people why they don’t vote, they tend to say the same things: My vote doesn’t really matter … What the government does is not relevant to me …The issues are too complicated for voters to understand.

The usual response is to try to convince these cynics that their vote really does matter. Maybe it’s time to acknowledge that the cynics have a point. Democracy is stumbling — and I think we know why. Consider the issue of how a new pipeline might affect First Nations communities.

An informed debate would begin by assessing the environmental risks the pipeline poses for these communities … which, in turn, would raise questions about the technological capacity to build safe pipelines … which would raise questions about the builder’s willingness to invest in safe technology … which would raise questions about what First Nations communities regard as environmental damage … which would raise questions about their historic relationship to the land and its use … which …

I could go on, but I hope that’s enough to make my point: Issues like this have a complexity that most people find intimidating. Unfortunately, political debate does not try to work through it, let alone help the public do so. Instead, it works to prevent real debate by playing partisan games.

MPs fall into two broad camps. The ‘political types’ love the game. Issues may come and go, but for them the war is never over. For them, politics is at least as much about the battle as the issue. ‘Policy types’, by contrast, like answers. They tend to focus on a few key issues and move up the ladder by building expertise and positions on them.

James Rajotte, the MP for Edmonton-Leduc, is in the second camp. His goal as an MP is to “influence public policy.” As the respected chair of the Finance Committee, he’s in a good position to do so — or so you’d think. Looks can be deceiving.

Long-time observers say they’ve never seen Parliament as partisan or as controlled by the PMO. For political types, this is not all bad. You might even say that, for them, it’s good for business. There’s lots of opportunity to spar and bristle as they deliver the government’s talking points. But what about the policy types?

Last week I talked to Rajotte about what it’s like to be a backbencher in the Harper government. I started by asking about the partisan environment.

This week the Harper government released its arguments around the Senate reference, which I read with much interest. Only now I’m really confused. Isn’t this the party that opposes judicial activism?

First, a bit of annoying constitutional talk: A key issue raised by the reference is whether abolition of the Senate requires the support of Parliament and seven provinces, including at least 50 per cent of the population (the so-called 7/50 formula), or the support of Parliament and all 10 of the provinces (the unanimity formula).

Until now, scholars widely agreed that abolition required unanimity. The argument was simple: Because the amending formulae involve the Senate, getting rid of it would change the formulae — and that requires unanimity.

The Harper government has proposed a clever counter-argument. In effect, it says that, even though the Senate is explicitly mentioned in the amending formulae, its role is not essential to the amendment process so it can be eliminated without actually changing the formula. The 7/50 formula is, therefore, enough for abolition — which might well be the difference between success and failure in getting rid of the Senate.

Still, as Emmett Macfarlane argues, this requires some pretty creative interpretation of the words on the page. To its credit, the government sees this and doesn’t mince words. It comes right out and asks the Court to avoid “slavish adherence to original intent.” Instead, it wants the Court to engage in some far-reaching interpretive work.

As Minister of Citizenship and Immigration, Jason Kenney showed remarkable talent and energy for making friends with ethnic communities. He then used this base to launch an ambitious policy agenda for his department and to build a new constituency for the Conservative Party. Can he do an encore as the Minister of Jobs?

Given all the talk of abolishing the Senate, surprisingly little has been said about the likely reaction from Quebec.

The boomers are finally moving on — in business, the bureaucracy and now politics. Prime Minister Stephen Harper went so far as to describe Monday’s cabinet shuffle as “generational change.” What should we make of this?

The Government of Nunavut has a remarkable new law that will transform how it deals with poverty. For those of us struggling to make sense of the mess in the federal Senate, it is worth taking time out to consider just how differently our governments might work.

The first thing to note about Premier Eva Aariak’s Collaboration for Poverty Reduction Act is how the language of the bill contrasts with normal government legislation. It is filled with references to “collaboration,” “partnership,” “dialogue,” “communities” and “public engagement.”

When I asked Aariak why, her answer was disarmingly simple: Government cannot solve poverty on its own, she says. Individuals, communities, NGOs, businesses and government all have a role to play — so the bill has been crafted to promote collaboration between them.

But if her explanation sounds simple, the thinking behind it is subtle. Aariak sees a deep connection between the role of government and the rise of poverty. Our people used to be self-reliant, she says — they hunted their own food, made their own clothing, tools and shelter.

Everyone’s piling on Mike Duffy, but I’d like to congratulate him for a job well done. If not for his bookkeeping habits, we might never have known how vast the gap is between the government’s talking points and its real views on accountability.

Only two weeks ago, pundits were wondering if the government’s reputation for secrecy, control and bullying was enough to do it in. Back then, the discussion was about its “style” of governance. Interfering with a quasi-judicial process moves this to a new level. So what should we think now?

Let’s start with Conservative MP Michelle Rempel. On CTV’s Question Period last Sunday, here’s what she had to say about the Duffy-Wright deal: “… there’s an implication there that somehow this government … stands for something other than accountability and transparency … We are the government of the Accountability Act. And the prime minister is the … person who has first and foremost stood up for this value in government.”

Of course, no one believes any of this. Nigel Wright was using his money and his office to influence a public process. He resigned because he got caught — no thanks to the prime minister or the Accountability Act. So far, neither has been of any help in getting to the bottom of things.

What Rempel’s words really show is that the government’s commitment to accountability is limited to talk, not action. Now that people need answers, the government shows itself incapable of anything but spin. Rempel herself is Exhibit A.

You’ve all heard the saying, ‘Only Nixon could go to China’ Well, try this on: Only Harper could unite us on the environment.

Yeah, yeah, I know. Hear me out.

It’s been a rough couple of months for the Conservatives. First Justin Trudeau, then the plunge in the polls and now so many people — even Conservatives — saying the government is just too secretive and controlling. There’s a growing sense something basic is broken. Can it be fixed?

Yes — but not with fuzzy blue sweaters, Beatles tunes or even a cabinet shuffle. We’re way past that. The government needs to do something bold and unexpected that makes a clear break with the past. Maybe it’s time for Stephen Harper to go to China — metaphorically.

Through the 1950s and ‘60s, Richard Nixon was among the fiercest anti-communists in U.S. politics. Then — magically, unexpectedly — the president achieved one of the great diplomatic and public relations coups of his day.

In 1972, he traveled to China to meet with Chairman Mao Zedong, the leader of the People’s Republic. Shortly after, Nixon reestablished U.S. relations with China and the rest, as they say, is history.

Nixon could pull this off because his credentials as an anticommunist were impeccable. If Richard Nixon thought it was time to reengage China, the media mused, who could disagree?

I have a question for Conservative MP Pierre Poilievre. Aboriginal people make up only four per cent of the population, yet they account for 23 per cent of the inmates in federal prisons. What is the ‘root cause’ of this alarming incarceration rate?

Following Poilievre’s logic, if the root cause of terrorism is terrorists, then the root cause of aboriginal crime must be aboriginal criminals. So if the jails are full of aboriginal people, it’s because so many of them commit crimes.

If you’re not squirming yet, you should be. It is a very short step to the conclusion that aboriginal people are disposed to crime — presumably because of some racial or cultural ‘difference’.

The only way out of this moral swamp is to commit sociology and look for the causes of crime beyond the individuals who commit them — in society, or the tainted justice system around them. In short, to fix things, first we must find the root causes.

I was therefore dismayed to read Rex Murphy’s column in the Post last week, which eulogized (there is no other word for it) Poilievre’s stunted logic: “Root cause arguments,” writes Murphy, “are often mere political cover to shift focus from a murderous event … an effort to diffuse responsibility, attenuate the guilt of perpetrators and drown the event in ever expanding circles of ‘context.’”

Justin Trudeau says he wants to do politics differently, starting with the party platform. So what’s he doing that’s so different?

If you want a glimpse, the place to look is cyberspace, where conventional politics is getting turned upside-down.

Trudeau’s team is investing lots of time, money and energy in building online capacity. Some observers see nothing new in this. To them, the Liberals are just playing catch-up. When it comes to digital tools, they say, the Conservatives are way ahead.

Fair enough. CIMS, the Conservatives’ massive, state-of-the-art database, contains information on millions of Canadians. For almost a decade the party has used it to transform fundraising, recruitment, campaigning and the work of getting the vote out. It’s an impressive example of organizational innovation and renewal.

The one thing the Conservative party hasn’t changed, however, is its top-down leadership style. When it comes to planning and policy, party members, supporters and the general public are basically passive participants. They fill out surveys, contribute to the party coffers, show up at party events and conventions, and help out on election campaigns — all under the watchful eye of the leadership.

This is one way to do party business, but it’s not the only way. New digital tools can be used to change how people participate in politics. They can create a more dynamic and interactive relationship between the party and the public — but only if the party leaders want this. (Some Conservatives, such as ‘open government’ champion Tony Clement, do favour this kind of participation.)

Like everyone, I’m relieved the Boston bombers were stopped in their tracks and grateful to the authorities who worked together to bring the crisis to a quick end.

Nevertheless, the scale of the response sets a very troubling precedent. It not only raises unrealistic expectations for the future, it sends the wrong message to terrorists. We need to ask some hard questions about where this is taking us and how to deal with such events in the future.

Shortly after the capture of Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, the second bombing suspect, President Barack Obama had this to say: “After the attacks on Monday, I directed the full resources of the federal government to be made available to help state and local authorities in the investigation and to increase security as needed.”

With the FBI coordinating the operation, some 9,000 local, regional, state and federal police officers, SWAT teams, aircraft surveillance, and military units joined the manhunt. The entire public transportation system, most businesses and most public institutions were shut down. A dramatic emergency warning was sent to cell phones and other wireless devices, urging over a million people to remain in their homes. The city of Boston was literally shut down.

Historically, the values of the NDP and the Liberals were always quite different, as were their policy platforms. The choice between them was clear. Now that Thomas Mulcair is moving his party toward the centre, is this about to change?

Maybe not. This may be irony: as Mulcair prepares to move into traditional Liberal space, Justin Trudeau looks ready to redefine it.

At the NDP convention last week, an enterprising reporter asked Mulcair’s supporters what distinguishes him from Trudeau. Their answer was substance. From pipelines to labour law, they said, Mulcair has so much more to say than Trudeau.

As if to underline the point, Mulcair later let slip that responsible development of our natural resources will be the cornerstone of the NDP’s election campaign. It’s a big, important issue and Mulcair has done a good job of making it his. But if he wants to use it to win the Liberal vote, he’s got some work to do.

For starters, Liberals don’t share the NDP’s view of business. They may agree that the Harper Conservatives are too soft on corporations — especially oil companies — but they still see business as the engine of prosperity and growth.

The Harper government’s crime agenda is supposed to strengthen Canadian justice by ensuring the law applies the same way to everyone. However, as Correctional Investigator Howard Sapers’ recent report so clearly shows, when it comes to sentencing, sameness can be a brutal form of discrimination — especially for aboriginal peoples.

To see why, let’s start with some facts:

Over the last five years, the number of aboriginal inmates in federal penitentiaries has increased by 43 per cent.
While aboriginal people number only four per cent of the population, they make up 23 per cent of the inmates in federal institutions.
In 2010-11, aboriginal women made up 32 per cent of all female federal prisoners, an increase of 85 per cent in the last ten years.
There are only two ways to explain these shocking numbers: either something is genetically or culturally wrong with aboriginal peoples or something is wrong with the justice system. As the problem is neither genes nor culture, it must be the system. So what’s going on?

The basic idea behind our system of justice is that people are responsible for their actions, but their choices are shaped by the circumstances around them. For example, a woman who shoots her husband because he has abused her for decades is still responsible for her actions, but a judge may treat her actions very differently from those of a woman who shoots her husband merely because she detests him.

People are worried about the state of our politics, especially at the federal level. Many feel we’ve lost our way. Can we get things back on track?

I think we can, but to see how, first we need to take a step back and look at the bigger picture. I want to describe four ways that traditional politics is changing and then say what this means for reform and renewal.

1. A Post-Partisan Culture

In the last federal election, the NDP surge in Quebec took the country by surprise. Why did Quebeckers abandon the Bloc Québécois and flock to the NDP?

Only a couple of months ago, pundits were musing about the imminent death of the Liberals. Now Justin Trudeau is the most popular politician in the country.

Prime Minister Stephen Harper allegedly hopes to make the Conservatives the new natural governing party. Why would Canadians’ loyalties shift?

There is a common theme running through these stories: voter volatility. It is now a defining part of our political culture, but it wasn’t always so. Most adults used to identify themselves with a particular party, usually for life.

Today, more and more of them have no long-term affiliation; they will change parties as casually as a brand of beer or shampoo. Why?