O’Leary perfect dragon to fire up Canada’s Tories

Canadian politics, and the Conservative party in particular, needs more Kevin O’Leary. And I’m not even joking. O’Leary should run. His candidacy would do timorous, hidebound Ottawa a world of good.

The former Dragons’ Den star’s revelation to the CBC that he’s mulling an outsider bid for the Tory crown hit Canada’s chattering classes like a thunderbolt Thursday. Reaction ranged from condescension, to shock, to outraged comparisons to billionaire buffoon Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump.

One reason for these comparisons: O’Leary has made them himself. He is nothing if not skilled at placing himself at the epicentre of attention, then chortling gleefully as others orient themselves around his dark polarity.

It’s a talent notably absent from the current Canadian political scene — except in the person of one Justin Trudeau, prime minister of Canada, who sits at precisely the opposite end of the ideological teeter-totter from O’Leary.

The two, sharing a debating stage, or glaring at one another across the aisle in Parliament, would be a perfect matched set — ivory versus obsidian chess pieces. It would be a political cage match for the ages — and terrific TV.

Is O’Leary actually Trump in a beaver-pelt hat? In some ways yes; in others, no. Like the U.S. real-estate mogul, O’Leary’s fame is partly founded on his past success as an entrepreneur. Like Trump, he is a skilled communicator who prides himself on “telling it like it is.” Like Trump, O’Leary is an avowed, unapologetic evangelist for capitalism, red in tooth and claw.

But unlike Trump, so far as I can tell, O’Leary has never uttered a public remark to suggest he is a bigot, misogynist or an imbecile. His interest is not religion or cultural identity, but money.

Those who dismiss O’Leary as a mere pontificating blowhard are underestimating him. I worked alongside him briefly in 2003, as he was making his start in Canadian business television at what is now BNN. His specialty was picking overvalued stocks. O’Leary’s analyses of balance sheets and corporate shenanigans were cutting, funny and correct more often than not. Even those who loathe his public persona will concede he has screen presence and charisma.

Some would say, of course, that O’Leary appeals to the worst aspect of human nature, greed, and that this in itself disqualifies him from participating in Canadian political life. He would likely chuckle at such a characterization, then reiterate a version of his long-standing mantra: Money is stored human energy, and the best objective measure of true value. How can anyone be against it?

It’s that thinking that enrages left-leaning viewers of O’Leary’s shows, which include Shark Tank on ABC, but delights ideological conservatives. Presumably, not all his 466,000 Twitter followers believe he’s a monster.

To restate: If O’Leary is the pure economic libertarian he seems and not a culture warrior, then he’s no Trump, regardless of what O’Leary himself may claim. This would be critical to his political success in Canada. The Tories’ straying into identity politics last fall was an important factor in their loss, as they themselves know.

Does O’Leary have a shot against party stalwarts such as former cabinet ministers Peter MacKay, Tony Clement, Kellie Leitch, Jason Kenney and Lisa Raitt or Saskatchewan Premier Brad Wall? I would argue he has. He was born in Montreal, went to high school in Ottawa, and has an MBA from Western University. He is reputedly bilingual. Even if his French is of the anglo-Montrealer variety, it would give him a leg up on aspirants such as Wall, who is unilingual. In short: Should he run, the dragon will make a formidable candidate. Liberals who dismiss him risk getting burned.