If there's political will, there's a way
The report of the Premier’s Economic Recovery Team is one of those uncomfortable documents that puts into black and white what many people knew or suspected but not everyone felt safe in voicing.
Talk of cuts and restraint can divide friends and neighbours and send politicians ducking for cover.
We have been overspending for decades, racking up so much debt that if, as a province, we went to a credit counsellor, they’d be advising us to cut up our credit cards and throw them away. And downsize our living accommodations, as well.
In this province (at least in my lifetime), whenever we’ve experienced prosperous times, we let the good times roll, investing in infrastructure, adding jobs, building things, paving anything that stood still — kind of like buying a round for the house at the Duke of Duckworth when you’re flush with your student loan.
According to Dame Moya Greene’s report:
“Starting in 2008, Newfoundland and Labrador entered a period of high spending that eventually created the current unsustainable situation. …
“At the time, financial restraint was not on the mind of the general public, or of the leadership of political parties, Crown corporations, unions, or the health, education, or business sectors. The government of the day was under considerable pressure to repair and replace aging infrastructure, raise wages to make up for years of austerity, and spend more on health care because of poor outcomes. Expenditures grew from $4.97 billion in 2004-05 to $8.97 billion in 2020-21, an 80 per cent increase.”
Danny Williams was premier when the boom started, and there was a buoyant feeling in the air, our chests bursting with pride in the richness of our potential.
We were “Canada’s youngest and coolest province,” as Williams liked to say (not in terms of demographics, but rather in terms of how long we had been part of Canada.) Remember that?
That was before the Muskrat Falls project was sanctioned, and we all know the financial burden that behemoth has caused.
Despite the temptation to lay blame at any one government’s feet, you have to ask yourself, honestly, whether a Liberal government in 2008 would have acted any differently than the Tories.
I suspect not.
So, we all know where we are and how we got here.
The question is, where do we go from here?
The Greene report recommends some decisive and sweeping actions: selling off Nalcor and the Newfoundland and Labrador Liquor Corp., consolidating health authorities, dismantling school districts, delivering a “new deal” for Memorial University.
Some of them seem like too much, too soon. Reducing operating grants to MUN and College of the North Atlantic by 30 per cent over six years? Cutting health spending by 25 per cent in the same period?
The situation calls for skilful leadership, widespread consultation and a very fine balance.
Thursday, a week after the report was delivered, Premier Andrew Furey gave a videotaped “state of the province” address — basically a riff on the Greene report, with a few rhetorical flourishes: “We can and will take back the navigation of our destiny.”
(Kind of nonsensical given that destiny is something non-navigable and predestined — written in the stars, not guided by people — but who am I to rain on his heavily choreographed parade?)
On Friday, when Furey finally met with reporters for questions, he sounded defensive and insisted he’s prepared to make the tough choices required, whether or not it harms his political fortunes.
But political survival instincts die hard. If reporters’ questions have him rattled this soon, will Furey be able to withstand staunch opposition from many quarters if the belt gets yanked too tight?
I fear we’ll keep lurching from crisis to crisis.
I hope to God he proves me wrong.