The Trudeau manipulation
Behind the most image-conscious campaign in Canadian history
Amid a throng of New Brunswickers, Justin Trudeau’s face morphs into a look of paternal adoration as he accepts a baby passed to him by a supporter.
The Liberal leader closes his eyes with delight as he rocks the infant back and forth. Oblivious to the highvolume dance music being piped out nearby, the baby settles into a peaceful sleep in Trudeau’s arms.
“Good night from the campaign trail,” reads the message accompanying a Liberal Party video of the encounter. “Twelve sleeps until election day.”
It’s a scene so mawkishly sentimental that no other leader would even attempt to get away with it. But it’s standard fare for a Liberal campaign that has already dispatched their leader to jog up mountains, canoe down Alberta rivers, spar in boxing rings — and asked the media to go watch.
The political fortunes of Trudeau are yet to be decided by Canada, but whatever happens, the leader cast by many as a lightweight will have gotten there by mounting the most image-conscious campaign in living memory.
“He isn’t running to be a boxer or a canoeist, he’s running to be prime minister, which is a different set of credentials,” said Robin Sears, who spent several campaigns in the war room for former NDP leader Ed Broadbent.
Sears knows the overwhelming temptation for Trudeau handlers to put “their guy” in situations that produce winning images. But he maintains those handlers need to resist the urge to rely so much on them.
The Liberals’ 2015 campaign ads all unmistakably seem to emphasize the vitality of their leader.
While Thomas Mulcair ads show the besuited NDP leader in coffee shops or bookshelf-lined law offices, and Harper is relying on folksy, Trudeau’s all show him doing something active: strolling through Major’s Hill Park in Ottawa, or walking the wrong way up an escalator.
“You could argue it’s lowest-common-denominator politics,” said Corey Horgan, former executive director of the Alberta Liberal Party. ‘‘But the fact is that it’s hard to fault a political party for doing what’s working.’’
The photos published by the Trudeau campaign are a coffeetable book of dramatic imagery. While Harper and Mulcair will sometimes hold hands with their wives, Liberal photos show the Trudeau couple nuzzling noses, eyes closed, in front of a beaming Stéphane Dion. Trudeau is seen holding his hand to his heart while empathizing with the concerns of an aboriginal elder.
The celebrity of Trudeau allows the Liberals to pull off fundraisers that would seem weird if done by the other parties. In 2013, they hosted “Justin. Unplugged,” a womenonly event urging attendees to “(really) get to know the future Prime Minister.”
The demand for Trudeau selfies has even inspired merchandise. At Boutique-Liberal. com, the Liberals’ official online store, $15.99 buys a Liberal-branded selfie stick.
Every debate this election, the Trudeau campaign has staged a feat of strength for their 43-year-old leader.
In Calgary, he pushed a red canoe into the Bow River for an early-morning paddle. Before debates in Toronto and Montreal, he went to sparring practice at a boxing ring.
“I thought I’d make one of those ‘jogging politician videos,’” says Trudeau in a voiceover to a video punctuated by the sound of punching and electric guitar. “The thing is, I don’t jog that much: On the big day, this is more my speed.”
Longtime Liberal strategist Warren Kinsella, who has been critical of Trudeau on his blog and Twitter feed, says the visuals favoured by Trudeau’s team are like ‘‘nitroglycerine,’’ by which he means both powerful and dangerous.
‘‘It can propel rockets but it can also blow up in your face,” he said.
The pitfalls of campaign athleticism are legion. Most famously, Progressive Conservative leader Robert Stanfield fumbled a football during a 1974 campaign stop, and the resulting photo soon became a nationwide symbol of his flagging performance.
“It’s all high-risk, and if you attempt something on the sporty side, then it’s even higher risk,” said Stockwell Day, former leader of the Canadian Alliance.
Day described a tense moment during the 2000 campaign when a member of his team suddenly brandished a football in front of the cameras. For a terrifying few moments, the upstart leader nonchalantly played along, knowing full well that his political future hung in the balance.
“I went ‘Uh-oh, I’ve got to catch every one.’ I did, and you didn’t see any of those pictures,” he said.
Day, of course, was the star of one of the most brazen forays into image politics in modern history. In 2000, the new party leader celebrated his byelection win in B.C.’s Okanagan by riding to his press conference on a personal watercraft. The stunt was panned in the press, and many have speculated that it helped prepare Canadians for a decade of the pizzazz-free rule of Stephen Harper.
But while it may have an- gered the “upper levels of the media sanctuary,” said Day, he maintains it helped spur a wave of youth support to the Alliance.
As to why Trudeau’s own aquatic adventure passed by relatively unscathed, Day credits social media.
“You can make something look not staged and not public, but knowing full well it’s going to be very public,” he said. “That’s a great advantage.”
Parties have run image-centric campaigns before, of course. Most notably, Pierre Trudeau’s successful 1968 campaign had him running from screaming girls and staring down angry separatist mobs in Montreal.
But the elder Trudeau’s best-known moments were pre-social media, and possibly more spontaneous. According to Ryerson University political historian Patrice Dutil, his son has largely been given a pass on any questionable choices.
“Had I been in the place of the prime minister or Tom Mulcair, I would have asked: How come we have not seen Mr. Trudeau riding a horse, barechested?” said Dutil in an email to the National Post, a reference to Russian leader Vladimir Putin’s testosterone-fuelled forays into the Siberian wilderness.
But running against Justin Trudeau is harder than it looks. As early as the spring of 2014, opinion polls were showing that personal attacks on Trudeau were driving more voters to the Liberals than the Conservatives.
Alex Marland, an expert on political messaging based at Newfoundland’s Memorial University, said Trudeau has the advantage of having been the centre of attention since his birth at 24 Sussex Dr. And the charismatic Trudeau thrives in crowds.
“And you’ve got to really worry about charisma, because charisma causes people to do things and support things they may not otherwise do,” said Marland.
“I can tell you, having lived under Danny Williams in Newfoundland, it’s real.”
Amanda Alvaro, a strategist on the Trudeau campaign, said the campaign strictly stayed away from activities that would look “inauthentic.” There are no ads of Trudeau fishing, lassoing calves or rock climbing, for instance.
But, she added: “When you have individuals with a full and interesting life you can draw on, I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t use that.’’
If Trudeau pulls off an upset on Oct. 19, it could well kick off a minor revolution in how political leaders are framed. If the other parties are trounced by a boxing canoeist, it will be hard for them to resist recruiting their own action heroes.
Or, noted Day, maybe not. After all, his guy — Harper — managed to win three elections as a staid technocrat, and could still win a plurality come Election Day.
“My optimism about human nature is somewhat buttressed when I think about someone like Madame Merkel,” Day said, referring to German Chancellor Angela Merkel. “People still like cosmetic, they like photogenic, but we’ll find out if thoughtful and proven will beat stylish and unproven.’’
We’ll find out if thoughtful and proven will beat stylish and unproven