Wynne is no nanny on pot sales
My nanny never dealt me dope. That’s why I’m flummoxed by the flurry of protests against Premier Kathleen Wynne, accused of being Ontario’s nannyin-chief in the matter of marijuana sales.
Pushing dope isn’t in the job description for normal nannies. And yet our premier is prepared to serve it up.
Seems nanny is now a dirty word in our ideological wars, hurled at any hint of government regulation or red tape: Seatbelt laws, motorcycle helmets, gun registries, booze controls, drug restrictions — all evidence of the nanny state repressing and dressing us down, conspiring to inhibit our presumed right to imbibe and inhale in a haze.
How to fathom the fog that has fallen over opposition politicians, pundits, hipsters, humorists and potheads taking potshots at our putative nanny premier for being so dopey about dope? Let us deconstruct the inanity of the nanny narrative, and get down in the weeds on weed:
Wynne’s government is apparently under fire for spelling out how one might visit a government marijuana joint for a joint or two starting next summer. For the first time in Canadian history, one will be able to procure competitively-priced cannabis without risk of arrest, rip-offs, contamination, dilution, distortion or extortion.
Wynne has promised to open 40 new government owned and operated marijuana stores to meet the July 1, 2018 deadline set by Ottawa for national sales, doubling that number by 2019 and reaching 150 outlets within two years. Online sales will also let you get spaced out via cyberspace starting next summer.
Yet a clamour has erupted on behalf of corner stores and dispensaries getting their fair share. Even the small business lobby over at the CFIB is squawking about our meddling nanny premier.
Incidentally, this isn’t so much incipient sexism as it is conventional name-calling: The terminology predates her, first sticking to Dalton McGuinty, a.k.a. Premier Dad, for supposedly presiding over a nanny state.
Full disclosure: I never had a nanny. Nor did I get far with toking or smoking dope (not that I deny inhaling — I just kept exhaling involuntarily in a fit of uncontrolled coughing).
I’m not much of a beer drinker or boozer either. But that hasn’t disqualified me from pronouncing, as a political columnist, on our bogus Beer Store framework, or the ups and downs of the LCBO.
Critics who compare the new marijuana framework to the ossified oligopoly of the Beer Store are comparing apples and oranges — akin to conflating hemp and hops. The Beer Store was revealed as a privately-run anachronism, a consortium of big multinational brewers profiting from a government license to print money — unlike the LCBO, a reasonably efficient, publicly owned entity whose revenues accrue to the treasury.
Another allegation is that the province will gouge dope smokers while greedily cashing in. Yet why wouldn’t the government seek to maximize revenues in the same way that it profits from alcohol and tobacco sales, especially given the obligation for costly new public education campaigns to counter abuse?
Yes, the future price of marijuana must remain competitive with the underground market. But most Ontarians don’t pine for a dramatic expansion in dope sales, let alone a free-for-all.
That any government, of any political stripe, would suddenly turn on the tap for tokers is a stretch. Allowing the private sector to muscle in on the marijuana trade would require a far greater regulatory bureaucracy to licence and inspect small outlets.
By retaining sole control, at least initially, the government can slowly roll out its retail channel for tokers to roll their own. It can determine precisely where and when to situate those stores, measuring market demand while testing the tolerance of local neighbourhoods.
Where privatization requires costly and clunky regulation, publicly owned distribution benefits from stronger responsibility, accountability and transparency, with well-trained, unionized employees. The LCBO also has the advantage of being a trusted supplier, which explains why a Nanos Research poll commissioned by the OPSEU union last year showed it was the preferred choice of Ontarians as a retail outlet. To those who dream of dope distribution on demand, be careful what you wish for. You can have too much of a good thing.
Ontarians tend to moderation in all things, not least marijuana. When the haze settles, critics might discover that people no more pine for a dope dispensary on every doorstep than they welcome a pusher on every corner.