THAT A POLICY AS UNJUST, INEFFICIENT AND EMBARRASSING AS SUPPLY MANAGEMENT HAS COME TO BE AT THE CENTRE OF EVERYTHING ILLUSTRATES HOW MUCH ROT THERE IS IN CANADIAN POLITICS.
How did supply management, of all things, come to be at the centre of everything?
The policy, under which farmers in a number of sectors — milk, cheese, eggs, poultry — are organized into government-approved pricefixing rings, enforced by a complex system of quotas and protected by prohibitive tariffs on imports of the same goods, has been in place since the early 1970s. It affects fewer than 15,000 farmers nationwide, who between them account for less than one per cent of Canada’s GDP.
Yet it has somehow become the central issue not only of our domestic politics, but of international trade talks. It was the pretext for Donald Trump’s decision to impose tariffs on imports of aluminum and steel, and is his most-cited grievance with Canadian trade policy. As such, it has become the rallying cry of preening political patriots, each of the parties seeking to outdo the others in defence of a policy whose avowed purpose, let us remember, is to make basic food items more expensive for Canadians.
It has also become a source of deep division within the Conservative Party. It was already, of course, thanks to last year’s leadership race, in which Maxime Bernier made its elimination the central plank in his campaign, as Andrew Scheer made its retention the key to his. Indeed, Scheer’s narrow victory was directly attributable to the votes of thousands of Quebec dairy farmers, who took out party memberships for the sole purpose of ensuring Bernier’s defeat. It is even possible the Scheer campaign encouraged them in this endeavour.
But with the issue back in the news thanks to Trump; with the revival of Conservative hopes, the Bloc Québécois being in such disarray, of winning seats in rural Quebec; with Bernier’s decision to stoke the still-simmering controversy in a chapter of his recently unpublished book; and with the Liberals taking every chance to remind Canadians, Quebecers in particular, of Bernier’s heresy — now coupled with the inflammatory charge that he was doing Trump’s bidding — the air was heavy with explosive potential.
Scheer’s decision to fire Bernier as the party’s innovation and economic development critic, as abrupt as it seemed Tuesday night, was therefore probably foreseeable, even without the “provocation” of Bernier having posted the offending chapter on his website.
And yet it is all so unnecessary. To be sure, as leader, Scheer has every right to decide who is in or out of his shadow cabinet. The prime minister, in the same way, has every right to set an independent Canadian agricultural policy, regardless of what the Americans might prefer. And if either leader elects to stick with supply management, that, too, is his right.
But nothing says they have to. No grand principle demanded Scheer relieve Bernier of his duties for speaking against it: shadow cabinets are not bound, as real cabinets are, by the principle of cabinet solidarity. Neither would there be any necessary sacrifice of sovereignty if the prime minister were to abolish supply management, even if that happens to top Trump’s wishlist. It is as much an act of sovereignty to scrap a policy as keep it.
Driving both leaders’ decisions, rather, are the usual calculations of politics. But the pressures they are under are self-imposed; they are prisoners of their own devising.
No doubt it is embarrassing to Scheer that Bernier should so publicly dissent from the party line — but that is only because he has accepted as a rule that there must be a single party line, and that it is the leader’s job to enforce it. As there is no necessity for such a rule, so there is none for embarrassment.
So Bernier takes a different line. So, gasp, he even posts his entirely familiar position on his website. So what? It is Scheer who has made this into a crisis, not Bernier.
The prime minister, likewise, fears he would look weak if he were to “concede” to Trump on supply management. But it is as much an act of weakness to hold fast to a policy we would otherwise discard, merely because another country had demanded it, as it would be to discard it for that reason.
So both have a right to do what they are doing — and yet they are both wrong to do so. The policy they are so desperate to retain is not good policy, and what is worse, both of them know it.
There is no serious case for supply management — a policy that is as unjust, inasmuch as it imposes the heaviest burden on the poorest families, as it is inefficient; that locks out new farmers and deters existing farmers from seeking new markets; and that makes us look utter hypocrites in freetrade talks, not only with the U.S., but the rest of the world — and no serious person whose livelihood does not depend upon it would make it.
And yet every member of every party is obliged to swear a public oath of undying fealty to it. That all do, but for one, is a sign of the institutional rot in our politics. For they do so not in spite of its awfulness but because of it — because the willingness to say two plus two equals five has become the ultimate test of loyalty.
On other issues, that might be because of genuine agreement. But a willingness to sign onto a truly hideous policy like supply management — that’s certain proof an MP is a “team player.”
Why is supply management at the centre of our politics? Because it stands at the intersection of all of its most important trends: the ferocious system of party discipline; the sudden opening in Quebec; the undisguised divisions in the Conservative Party; and our national insecurity relative to the U.S., so easily exploited for partisan gain. It is not accidental but inevitable.