Justin Trudeau and the triumph of ‘good’
Moral language echoes that of an earlier generation
Expectations of Prime Minister Justin Trudeau rest heavily upon his use of one very common but ambiguous word. That word is “good.” Over a long and illuminating election campaign, Trudeau often used the term very differently than his rivals. And that difference reveals a lot about how he proposes to lead.
“Good” is one of the language’s hardestworking words. Dictionary.com lists 41 different shades of meaning as an adjective, 12 as a noun and 20 more as an adverb, interjection and in idioms.
When Stephen Harper promised “good leadership,” he meant “skilled.” He claimed his experience made him the best manager to deliver efficiency, security and stability.
Technical prowess in tending the economy and the government has become the core of the Conservative offer to Canadians — especially since the marginalization of the progressive Red Tories.
Oddly, the leader of the New Democratic Party mostly used “good” in the same way as Harper. An experienced civil servant and politician, Thomas Mulcair had every right to claim managerial expertise.
But that’s not at the core of the New Democratic Party’s promise to Canadians.
When you claim that your country’s economic, political and social conditions are unjust and need to be reformed, it’s pretty unconvincing to promise stability and efficiency.
For much of the campaign Mulcair seemed to be running against his party’s basic ethos. He was so concerned to dampen the electorate’s anxiety about NDP management, he lost the massive vote for change.
Trudeau didn’t talk as much about his managerial talents — a modesty his rivals said was well-warranted. In general, he spoke more about his team — an implicit repudiation of Harper’s presidential and anti-parliamentary style.
And when he used “good” as in “good government,” Trudeau often wasn’t speaking merely of skilfulness or efficiency.
He meant morally good. Virtuous. Right.
It was a little shocking to hear. It echoed the language of an earlier generation before the relentless Conservative assault on the size, scope and nature of democratic government impoverished our speech and slackened our hopes.
When Trudeau mused about growing jobs for Canadians from the heart outward, even some Liberals cringed. But it dramatically evoked the notion of a Canadian body politic with a conscience — and a national economy with a human purpose.
For many years — and especially during the Harper era — we’ve been taught to regard government as a kind of bad machine. It could be mastered by technique but not changed.
It certainly couldn’t be moral — machines don’t have the parts.
By contrast, the market economy has been pictured as a sophisticated mechanism that operates ever more effectively as it’s freed from public supervision. The federal government’s role in the economy has shrunk thanks to tax cuts and the sell-off of Crown assets. Regulations have been slashed and industry oversight diminished.
Markets are freer than they’ve ever been. And Canadians’ sovereignty over their own institutions is at a low point.
It’s not much of an exaggeration to say Canadians are now hostage to their market arrangements. An economically conservative National Post columnist mused the day after the Liberal victory that it doesn’t much matter what Trudeau wants to do; global forces will dictate his actions.
Unfortunately, for most Canadians, freer and more global markets have delivered only modest benefits. The great rewards have gone to the very wealthy. World Bank and OECD economists now believe that growth in the developed world has been slowed by the dramatic rise of inequality.
In Canada, we have paid for freer markets with crumbling public infrastructure, environmental degradation and a growing gap between the very rich and everyone else.
There is a deep fatalism embedded in thinking about government and the economy as mechanical systems over which we have little or no influence. Trudeau called out both this fatalism and the pessimism about voters that underlay the Conservatives’ personal attacks and their scaremongering against new Canadians.
His promise to run a modest budget deficit for three years to restore public works and put more Canadians to work was above all a pledge to think differently and more confidently.
Challenging current ideology, he said we could alter our circumstances.
Second, he insisted that inequality of wealth and opportunity was a moral problem as well as a technical one.
The promise to raise taxes on the rich and reduce those on the middle class gave testament to his seriousness. Raising taxes and running deficits have been considered political third rails. Despite the risks, Trudeau grabbed on hard.
According to most pollsters, Trudeau’s attributes as a leader and potential prime minister in the public mind sat below his rivals. But by Labour Day his message began to get notice.
From that point forward, his rep- utation for trustworthiness, competence and fitness for office grew steadily.
Canadians continued throughout the campaign to have high personal regard for Mulcair. But he did not stir the passionate response that Trudeau did.
And it was this enthusiasm for “good government” that decided the election.
The Conservatives held their vote. It was the massive increase in the number (and percentage) of Canadians who went to the polls and overwhelmingly voted Liberal who made the difference.
This was a vote for more than just a change in management style.
It was a vote for a return of moral passion and a sense of purpose when we address our economy, our environment, the newcomers to our nation and our Aboriginal Peoples.
This kind of political talk was once much more common in Canada. Perhaps it will again be possible after this very broad and deep victory to engage Canadians in pursuing what another Liberal prime minister called the Just Society. John Cruickshank is the publisher of the Toronto Star and president of Star Media Group.
There is a deep fatalism embedded in thinking about government and the economy as mechanical systems