National Post

CANADA’S CONSERVATI­VES VOTE

ANDREW COYNE on the merits of the race, JOHN IVISON on comeback kid Maxime Bernier, CHRIS SELLEY on the lack of ‘ Trumpism’,

- Mike Coates

When the Conservati­ve Party convenes in Toronto this weekend to choose its new leader, the person many thought the most likely to win will instead be where he is most comfortabl­e: sitting on a media panel, performing for the cameras.

Kevin O’Leary was the frontrunne­r in the race to succeed Stephen Harper. Victory was within reach when, just weeks before the convention and with ballots with his name on them already arriving in voters’ mailboxes, he made the sudden decision to pull out of the race. As the person who chaired Kevin’s campaign, I’ve had more than a few questions about happened. And while there has been much speculatio­n about why he quit, at the end of the day it came down to one thing: he was never fully committed.

My j ourney with O’Leary began with a brief phone call at the end of November. I had never met the businessma­n-turned-reality TV star, but after months of rumours about his candidacy — rumours he had instigated and happily fuelled — Kevin was now looking for someone to actually lead his campaign. A mutual friend had passed along my name. After only a brief discussion, he asked me, “Will you be my guy?” It made me laugh, because it sounded like he was asking for a date. I suggested we should meet first, “so we can decide if we like each other.”

Having spent a lifetime in Tory politics, I was returning to Canada from New York after running the Americas region for the global public relations firm H+ K Strategies. I had watched the Trump phenomenon unfold first-hand, and had met enough of the U. S. political establishm­ent to wonder whether Canada was ripe for a similar change.

So I took the meeting, and immediatel­y liked the guy I met. He wasn’t the know-it-all character from Shark Tank that I was expecting. Politicall­y green, he was insightful about how to make an impact on public opinion, with a good strategic mind and a willingnes­s to learn the political side of things from me, a party veteran. He also had some strong views on how he could leverage his media profile for the advantage of the party. “There has never been a candidate like me,” he’d say, and he was right.

But I was left with a nagging doubt: did Kevin really know what he was getting himself into?

The strange candidacy of Kevin O’Leary was rooted in the most basic Opposition responsibi­lity — to present a true alternativ­e to the party in power at a general election. Well, Kevin was certainly different. A brilliant communicat­or who didn’t know the meaning of subtlety, he had both high name recognitio­n and a successful business career in Canada and in the United States. Image is of course huge in politics. It had already worked in the U.S., why couldn’t it work in Canada?

Liberal elites are fond of saying that Canada is different from the United States, and in many ways it is. But that ignores the fact that the same forces working t o undermine t he status quo in the U. S. are also at work here.

As economist Brian Lee Crowley has noted, Canadian labour force participat­ion rates are at their lowest level in decades. Men in particular have seen participat­ion rates fall off dramatical­ly as blue- collar jobs in the manufactur­ing and natural resources sectors have declined since the 2008 recession. Meanwhile, falling birthrates mean Canada needs an increasing number of skilled immigrants, many of whom move to parts of the country where housing costs are already high, helping to keep that housing out of reach for a growing number of Canadians.

Midway through the leadership campaign, new data published by Edelman, the world’s largest public relations agency showed that Canadians’ trust in government had eroded profoundly since Justin Trudeau became prime minister just 15 months earlier. Canada is now in the category of nations who distrust their institutio­ns, the first time this has happened in 17 years.

The same cocktail of discontent that brought Donald Trump to power is brewing here in Canada, and it only needs a voice to give it the attention it deserves. Even my reliable snowplow operator in Madawaska Township, who said he had been thinking of moving to the U. S. until he heard Kevin O’Leary was running, thought Kevin was “a guy who could fix things." And Kevin could have been that voice, even though he had only a superficia­l understand­ing of the forces that would have allowed it to happen.

From my first meeting with him on December 3, the campaign went from a standing start to a fully functionin­g operation by mid-February, just three weeks after he formally entered the race on January 17. We were able recruit experience­d and respected organizers — the likes of Chris Rougier, who became Kevin’s campaign manager, and Andrew Bodding- ton, hired as our senior policy and communicat­ions strategist — who had chosen to stay on the sidelines of what had been an uninspirin­g race. Kevin attracted the support of longtime party stalwarts such as Mike Harris, Marjory LeBreton, Rick Perkins, Ken Hughes, Tim Uppal and Guy Lauzon, giving him immediate party credibilit­y. Although everyone was cautious of the Trump analogy, there was clearly a constituen­cy within the party for a political outsider with a proven track record in business. Too many MPs knew how to stack riding associatio­n meetings but had yet to accomplish anything in real life.

While his message was focused on the economy and what Trudeau was doing to destroy Stephen Harper’s solid economic legacy, he immediatel­y put himself on the party’s progressiv­e wing by promising to be pro-immigratio­n and accepting of reproducti­ve rights and the LGBTQI community. But it was with millennial­s that he particular­ly resonated. His celebrity status from Shark Tank excited them — particular­ly young men — and they responded to the message that the country needed a leader who could get them out of their parents’ basements and into well-paying jobs.

Money came in quickly — but not from the sources we had expected. On day one of the campaign we brought in $189,000 in small donations from members who were looking for a candidate to “tell it the way it was.” By the end of the campaign, the ratio of small donations of $100 or less to large contributi­ons from wellheeled donors who could give up to $1,550 was 3 to 1, with twothirds of the $1.5 million we eventually raised coming from small donations from regular members, many of whom we connected with via Kevin’s use of Reddit and Facebook Live to communicat­e spontaneou­sly with current and potential members.

Much of the Conservati­ve rank- and- file remained skeptical, however. “I’m leery of O’Leary,” said longtime Conservati­ve supporter Nancy McFadden, which pretty much summed up the view of half the party. According to the campaign’s independen­t research, 45 per cent of members initially ranked him at or near the bottom of the 14 candidates vying for the leadership — a real problem, since the party’s ranked-ballot voting system and the number of candidates made it unlikely anybody could win on the first ballot. Once we toned down his bluster and Conservati­ves became more comfortabl­e with him, the number of party members for whom he ranked in the bottom tier dropped from 45 per cent to nearly 30. Though still high, every scenario that we modelled quantitati­vely suggested it was good enough for him to win the leadership, espe- cially given the extent to which Kevin was able to outstrip the other candidates in sales of new membership sales during the limited time he was in the race.

That success in selling membership­s means he would have been even stronger had he entered the race sooner. Pundits have pointed to his late entry as a sign he wasn’t serious about winning. It’s a valid point.

But Kevin understood that timing is everything and believed waiting until the last minute would have the maximum impact on a dull race. And when he officially entered the race, he rose to the top of the polls almost immediatel­y.

Even Kevin’s driest policies were delivered with his customary bluster, to ensure maximum media coverage. “All media is good,” he’d say — including the time he spent on U. S. television during the campaign, though it underscore­d the impression that he wasn’t all- in on a commitment to a career in politics. Those questions about his commitment were amplified by his failure to appear at many of the party’s debates.

Contrary to what most believe, Kevin’s spotty debate attendance had little to do with his lack of bilinguali­sm. He was a quick study in French. He was never going to be able to carry out a conversati­on by the end of the campaign, but with the help of his French teacher Hélène, he was able to muster enough to satisfy most members he met that he was serious about learning the language. Kevin’s real issue with the debates — one on which I and the other members of his campaign team agreed — was that no one was watching them. It required a lot of preparatio­n and travel and expense to participat­e in events the networks weren’t interested in and at which even the live audience struggled to stay awake. “I don’t do bad TV,” he’d say.

If Kevin made such an impact on the campaign, why did he pull out just before the moment of truth?

Early in his brief campaign, Kevin appeared fully committed. Something about politics clearly appealed to him. After a meeting with the Conservati­ve caucus on Parliament Hill in early December, he told me he felt people were treating him differentl­y — that he was no longer just a celebrity, but an emerging leader.

But while a lot of party members got what Kevin represente­d, he never quite got the party. As the campaign moved from membership sales into the persuasion phase, we expected him to focus his efforts on the small list of 200,000- plus paidup party members who would be eligible to vote for the leadership. Kevin, though, grew increasing­ly frustrated at the inefficien­cy of meeting small groups of those members after spending months communicat­ing with the entire country via social and traditiona­l media.

At the end of March, tired and worn down with the flu, facing a brutal schedule in which he tried to continue his business commitment­s and accommodat­e the necessitie­s of an aggressive campaign tour, Kevin’s mood boiled over. “I’m not going to the Maritimes again!” he told his team. “Let’s focus on social media.”

Social media was effective for some things, but it couldn’t replace retail politics when we were trying to influence the party members who were used to having a relationsh­ip with their leadership.

HIS CELEBRITY STATUS FROM SHARK TANK EXCITED THEM — PARTICULAR­LY YOUNG MEN

YOU KNOW, THE PARTY REALLY DOESN’T LIKE ME.

In any event, half the voting members weren’t even on Facebook, and Kevin’s late entry had made it more difficult to establish the relationsh­ips other candidates had been building for years.

As the campaign wore on, Kevin grew increasing­ly nervous about the outcome. He started raising myriad concerns about what would happen if we won, including the polarizing effect he’d had on the party, or his weakness in Québec.

“You know,” he would say, “the party really doesn’t like me.” Or: “The caucus is really going to be a problem.” Or: "I’m never going to win in Quebec in the general election.”

Our answer was t hat he would build a relationsh­ip with the party and the caucus over time, and we reminded him that when Stephen Harper was first elected he barely spoke French.

But these arguments held little sway for an entreprene­ur used to getting his own way. Early in the campaign, after I chewed him out for an embarrassi­ng tweet showing him firing an automatic weapon at a U.S. gun range, he told me that he wasn’t used to someone “managing my brand,” and that he didn’t like it. The idea of spending the next two years building relationsh­ips in communitie­s across Canada frustrated him. He envisioned himself using his celebrity status and media notoriety to promote the party while also keeping his business interests going, selling them or putting them in an arm’s- length trust once he was elected to office.

He lacked focus in part because he was keeping his options open.

Reality struck home for Kevin towards the end of April when he and his wife Linda were the subject of abuse at an event in Toronto. “You’re the f---- who’s going to destroy Canada," someone yelled from the crowd. Being a celebrity is easy, all adoration and selfies. Being a politician can bring a comparable level of fame, but it also brings abuse. Linda and Kevin didn’t like that.

Kevin’s true feelings came to the head less than a week before he pulled the plug on his candidacy. Over a couple of beers, he expressed concern about how his life would change if he won how his family unity would be tested, and about the business opportunit­ies he would lose. He mused aloud as to whether there was a way he could stay in the race but find a way to avoid winning, and to come only a close second.

Those of us leading his campaign were stunned.

By now it was clear to us that he was going to win. So after reflecting overnight, we gave him two options: either he would commit to us to being all- in through to the general election in 2019, or he should exit the race and throw his weight behind another candidate.

The nightmare scenario, which seemed all too plausible: if Kevin didn’t pull out while he still could, he might succeed in winning the leadership but then bolt back to his business and TV career, badly embarrassi­ng the party before we even got the chance to fight an election against Trudeau.

We held our breath over the weekend as Kevin consulted with Linda. Then he returned to us with his answer. I thought I had seen it all in politics, but this was a first: the leading candidate deciding to drop out of the race.

Political organizers will know that one of the most prized accomplish­ments in politics is to identify, promote and elect a party leader. But as disappoint­ed as the team was that we had to throw in the towel, we knew he had made the right decision, for himself and his family, for the party and, ultimately, for the country.

Having made the difficult choice to withdraw, opting to support Maxime Bernier was easy. The truth is, he had toyed with supporting Bernier last year when he hosted the Quebec MP at his Muskoka cottage. The two are aligned on most policies, but Kevin was bolder in the way he communicat­ed. While Kevin gave voice to many of the 83 per cent of Canadians who are not bilingual, and who resent being told by the media and political elites that this disqualifi­es them from high office, reality also hit home on the importance of speaking more than just the language of jobs to French Canada. And all of our voter identifica­tion and political research i ndicated that more than half of our supporters preferred Bernier on a second ballot. And if Kevin couldn’t be prime minister, he at least wanted to be kingmaker.

So was our f r antic f i ve months with Kevin a waste of time, or was his candidacy a distractio­n from the race? I don’t think so.

An Ipsos poll in January had shown that Kevin had the best chance of beating Trudeau. And while his organizers always knew there was risk in an O’Leary candidacy, with risk goes reward.

Indeed, Kevin made t he leadership race. He disrupted the campaign and forced all the other candidates to be bolder in their policy and communicat­ions. Candidates began adopting more effective social media as a tool for raising money and recruiting supporters, and they began to open the door on unconventi­onal policy options about how we should govern this country.

Going public with concerns about fake membership helped ensure the party’s next leader would be chosen in a clear, untainted process.

But most of all, Kevin showed the party what it would take to win over millennial­s, women, new Canadians and the LGBTQI community. Maybe some in the party didn’t like him for it, but activists know that the path to the victory in a general election won’t lead through a narrow definition of conservati­sm.

I hope Kevin stays involved along the way to that general election. He has talked about running in the Toronto riding of Rosedale, but I’m not banking on it. Much of what Kevin says is for effect.

Whatever his choice, a single- minded focus on defeating Trudeau must be front and centre for the Conservati­ve Party, which could benefit from using Kevin’s communicat­ion skills to promote policy, raise funds and recruit new members, and learn from his willingnes­s to abandon the party’s disdain for the media and accept it as an important vehicle to get out our message.

It’s often said that being the Leader of the Opposition is the worst job in Ottawa. You have to commit to the rubber- chicken circuit as you criss- cross the country, all while placating a lot of very high- maintenanc­e MPs. Kevin would dismiss that as doing politics the old school way, arguing that a focus on traditiona­l and social media is the modern way of winning.

The truth is, you need both. Kevin was unwilling to do both.

I’m sure we haven’t seen the last of Kevin O’Leary, but now we need a Conservati­ve leader who is committed to putting in the hard work required to give a voice to the millions of Canadians who feel they are not being represente­d in government. That is the big missed opportunit­y in Kevin O’Leary's aborted candidacy. It is up to Maxime Bernier, or whoever wins on May 27, to pick up the mantle and be the voice for so many of these Canadians.

Mike Coates was global vice- chairman at H+ K Strategies, and the chair of Kevin O’Leary’s campaign for the leadership of the Conservati­ve Party. National Post

 ?? STAN BEHAL / POSTMEDIA NEWS FILES ?? “There has never been a candidate like me,” said former Tory leadership hopeful Kevin O’Leary.
STAN BEHAL / POSTMEDIA NEWS FILES “There has never been a candidate like me,” said former Tory leadership hopeful Kevin O’Leary.
 ??  ?? Kevin and Linda O’Leary.
Kevin and Linda O’Leary.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Canada