Wilson was admirable leader on mental health

Louise Bradley reflects on the legacy of the late politician and advocate.

I worked closely with Michael Wilson for the last four years. Since 2015, when he was named board chair of the Mental Health Commission of Canada, I spoke to him almost weekly.

He had many important jobs and was juggling many responsibilities — from his position at Barclays to his role as chancellor of the University of Toronto and the numerous boards to which he lent his expertise. But regardless of his competing demands, he was unfailingly generous with his time. To have a leader of Michael’s calibre on speed-dial is a privilege indeed.

Michael wasn’t removed from the work of the mental health commission, as board chairs sometimes are. He always made it clear that, although we are a non-profit organization, we have to apply the discipline and accountability exacted in the world of business. He overhauled our governance — a process that may sound boring but which included important efforts to diversify our board and bring disparate voices to the table. Thanks to Michael, our board more than doubled its Indigenous representation, while shrinking its overall size — to give just one example of his contribution.

Our board chair met and worked with many members of our staff. He took a keen interest in his speeches and, gradually, began sharing his own lived experience more openly. Michael was familiar with the crying need associated with mental illness even before he lost his son Cameron to suicide. As a parliamentarian, he recalled harrowing and heart-rending stories he’d heard from constituents — stories that highlighted the absence of quality mental health services, told in voices hushed by stigma and coloured by shame.

Michael was determined to shine a light on this need, and with Cameron’s death, he redoubled his efforts — turning tragedy into advocacy and earning the admiration of others who have had to bridge that same divide. My respect for Michael grew with each year we worked together. He was an ideas person, but his were ideas rooted in the need to see practical advancements.

As a former cabinet minister and ambassador, Michael leveraged his credibility to bring the same gravitas to the mental health movement. At the same time, his calls to action were reasonable. He advocated for more research to improve pharmacological treatments for mental illness and better understand the brain and its response. He called on governments to make investments in mental illness proportionate to the burden of the disease. And he called for “the sound economics of creative approaches,” noting the commitment to innovation we need if we want to tackle mental illness in the 21st century.

Michael was funny. His sense of humour, his ability to bring levity to a tough topic, was an essential part of his leadership style.

Michael was indomitable. I needed to reach him urgently one weekend and was told he’d call me back when he was down from the mountain. How many of us can imagine heli-skiing at 79?

Michael was kind. He didn’t put on airs and graces. He had every reason to be an intimidating presence in the office, but on his first visit as board chair, he walked around and greeted every person, taking a genuine interest in his or her work.

I confess the news of his passing came as a shock to me — not because I wasn’t aware of how ill he was, but because somewhere in my heart I believed his sheer will and incredible optimism would always win the day.

A dear friend and mentor, Michael’s loss will reverberate, not only in the halls of the mental health commission’s office, but throughout the country’s mental health landscape.

Michael’s compassion, sincerity, and resolve are irreplaceable. It is now up to us to redouble our efforts to finish the work he began so many years ago. We will follow in his footsteps, knowing that no one could possibly fill his shoes.

Bradley is president and CEO of the Mental Health Commission of Canada.

Michael’s compassion, sincerity, and resolve are irreplaceable.