Governor General wants to play politics
Gov. Gen. Mary Simon understands that with holding high office comes power. What she doesn’t understand is that this power is not to be used for political ends — for promoting contentious Liberal bills that are trying to be passed in Parliament, for example.
Simon held a symposium at Rideau Hall this past weekend, her latest move in a campaign against online hate that she’s led since last year. The topic of discussion? The collective pain felt by invitees under volleys of mean internet comments, which could soon come under federal regulation. In 2023, Simon closed the comments sections of her official social media accounts due to an “increase in abusive, misogynistic and racist engagement on social media and online platforms, including a greater number of violent threats.” Her office didn’t specify whether these were criminal in nature.
On the guest list for the weekend get-together were, among others: Liberal MPS, left-wing activists and government bureaucrats. All people who have considerable influence on our lives under the current government. Simon quite clearly made her residence a place for allies to convene and talk policy. One panel at the symposium, titled Emerging Solutions for a Safer Digital World, sounded an awful lot like a policy discussion on the hotly contested matter before Parliament.
Attendees naturally included Justice Minister Arif Virani, who telegraphed later that he used the governor general’s platform to discuss Bill C-63, the online harms act. He was joined by Theresa Tam and Bonnie Henry, the chief public officers of health for the federal and B.C. governments who have both incorporated the identity politics of the progressive left into their work. Left-wing journalist Emilie Nicolas moderated, while her similar-minded colleague Rachel Gilmore attended as well — though apparently not their counterparts on the right.
Also present was Fae Johnstone, a federally funded transgender entrepreneur who has received more than $1 million for “advocacy” work; also, the education director for Mediasmarts, a federally-funded organization that teaches children both run-of-themill media literacy and the intersectionality hierarchy of the left.
Given the political bent, the symposium would have best been left to civil society (and with the multitude of non-profits and media characters who are supported by public funds, it shouldn’t have been hard). But the governor general, itching for some airtime, decided to take the reins.
It was an irresponsible choice. She may have experienced hurtful and discriminatory comments online, but the solutions promoted by certain symposium-goers involve trampling free speech with an intense regulatory regime. Either Simon was actively promoting Liberal-endorsed online harm regulation, or she was ignorant that her symposium would have at least the appearance of political activity. Both options show a lack of judgment that shouldn’t be absent in her office.
Simon, for reference, has the power to dissolve government, to dismiss and appoint prime ministers in times of extreme constitutional turbulence. Such moments are rare, but when they happen, the governor general’s judgment and careful neutrality are key. Simon has a responsibility to behave honourably and neutrally, so that in the unlikely event of a constitutional crisis, her call will be respected by everyone.
Outside of the technicals, it’s simply unbecoming for anyone representing the Crown in high office to indulge in self-pity. They should be above the fray, limiting their public participation to the non-political — as the monarch does. They don’t have to remain absolutely mute, but they should be able to withstand negative anonymous accounts online, and they should be able to focus on their duty without tying their personal lives to live policy battles.
Monarchs face literal assassination attempts, frenzied tabloid harassment and commentary that ranges from fair criticism to cruel harassment from separatists, republicans and communists. But Queen Elizabeth II wasn’t one to complain or lobby for censorship laws. She recognized that a head of state should be strong and unwavering, and should refrain from complaining about the inconveniences of office — which are far outweighed by the advantages.
Nor did the Queen use her office to promote social debates of the day: she avoided the topic of feminism but commended girls; she avoided the topic of climate change but commended the “sense of purpose” among the youth who champion it. She certainly didn’t host symposiums on these topics which were attended by largely-in-agreement public servants, journalists and politicians working to pass legislation. When she made statements on more politically-sensitive issues, she stuck to deep, universal values.
The governor general ( justifiably) enjoys a fraction of royal advantage: a generous wardrobe budget, ample travel allowances and state power. But unlike the royals, she doesn’t understand that status as a non-elected high official outside the Legislature comes with invisible strings. She wasn’t elected by the people, or appointed by the elected government specifically to legislate like those named to the Senate, so she shouldn’t do it.
Simon must enjoy the praise that comes with breaking unwritten rules — by confessing her plight as a victim and by characterizing herself as an activist, much like ex-royals Harry and Meghan. But she apparently can’t accept the downside: the rude anger that comes from everyday people who see the intrusion into policy as a problem, but who can’t express this with a vote.