Deeper, wiser debates trump simplistic views

It’s critical to be open and understand different viewpoints, says Ryan Meili.

A few years ago, John Gormley included me in a short list of New Democrats he liked, praising my willingness to engage in debate. Given his recent column, it seems pretty clear that he’s moved me to his longer NDP list.

This is not too surprising, but it’s disappointing. Talking to people we disagree with is an opportunity to understand other points of view and refine our own. That’s why, a few weeks ago, when Mr. Gormley used language easily interpreted as a call to counter-protest the Justice for Our Stolen Children camp, I respectfully asked him to send a different message.

Given current tensions in Saskatchewan, encouraging people to counter-protest would add fuel to an already dangerous situation. Indeed, the night before Gormley’s comments, a man who had set up camp near the teepees was seen waving a knife and was heard to shout “Sieg Heil” before being removed from the park by police.

I explained my concerns on Mr. Gormley’s show and, though reluctant to acknowledge any error, he did agree to discourage counter-protest. During that conversation I received a text from one of the people involved in the protest who said they’d spent the previous afternoon, in their words, “fending off angry Gormley listeners.” I can’t say how they reached the conclusion that the people who’d come by the camp heckling and revving their engines were listeners of Mr. Gormley’s program. Those events did, however, coincide with the days he used his time on air to criticize the actions of the people raising concerns about the problems in our child welfare system.

I understand why people listen to John Gormley’s show. He’s edgy, opinionated and entertaining. What he may not always take into account, however, is the real power of his platform. Political leaders and pundits alike must consider the implications of the words we choose.

We’ve seen a disturbing shift in the tone of public debate. Ideas we had hoped were fading away have reemerged with a vengeance, with casual racism and hate crimes on the rise. The recent attack on Abu Sheikh in Saskatoon, the violent online comments in Flin Flon, and now the arson charges against a man who shot fireworks toward the justice camp are close-to-home examples of how intolerance and ignorance can spill over into frightening real-world danger. It’s more important than ever to engage positively with people of different backgrounds and opinions.

And that means seeing people as more than a caricature, a cartoon version of themselves. One of Mr. Gormley’s criticisms of me was that I was inconsistently branded. This reflects how we’ve come to think of people in marketing terms. We have a tendency to want people to fit into a simple box we can either accept or reject.

That’s not how real people are. We are complex, made up of a wide range of experiences, motivations and emotions, and to pretend otherwise cheapens our public discourse. What we need now is not leaders who are easily branded, who fit into our pre-set boxes. We need leaders who will focus on getting results for people by engaging with complex ethical questions, balancing competing interests, and seeking the common good. Leaders who are more complex and nuanced than a product on a shelf.

I’m not a product. None of us are. I’m a family doctor and a politician, a husband and a dad. I’m a farm kid who lives in the city. I debate with my friends and genuinely like my opponents. I read and write books on healthy public policy. I like to swim and run and act ridiculous with my kids. And yes, despite

Mr. Gormley’s disapproval, I sometimes ride a skateboard.

Politics is serious business. Life, on the other hand, is way too short to not have any fun. It’s also too short to worry whether I’m still one of the few New Democrats that John Gormley likes. That said, I will always have time for constructive discussion and respectful debate — with him, and anyone serious about making Saskatchewan a better place to live.

In a province as small and tight-knit as ours, we can reject simplistic views of one another in favour of deeper, wiser conversations about the kind of Saskatchewan we want to build.