No one good enough to memorialize

If you’ve ever been to the Parliament Buildings in Ottawa, you’ve no doubt wandered through the Centre Block and come across the Hall of Honour. It’s a dazzling piece of real estate. Pointed arches. Magnificent windows. Limestone walls. Marble floors. Truly awesome.

It’s called the Hall of Honour because it was intended to be lined with statues to remember remarkable Canadians. So who has been memorialized so far? No one.

Soon after the Hall of Honour was completed, it became clear that we’d never agree on who was worthy of it. So we stopped trying to agree. Now there are a few carvings in the hall. One remembers the nurses of the First World War. Another pays tribute to the soldiers of the Second World War. But no single Canadian is honoured in the Hall of Honour. Until now, that seemed like a shame. A country’s history can bring people together as citizens, reflecting on the work of those that got us here. But given the heated debate that has now arisen over commemorating even the once untouchable giants of our past, it seems like an empty Hall of Honour is a fine idea.

Much has been said and written about an Ontario teachers’ union that wants to remove John A. Macdonald’s name from schools. There’s also a campaign to take Egerton Ryerson’s name and statue from Ryerson University. Hector-Louis Langevin’s name has already been removed from a building that houses the Prime Minister’s Office.

There’s no need to review those cases here. But it is worth pointing out that when we’re all dead and gone, we’re going to be judged by future generations. And it’s not only certain that we will all fall short of perfection, but when 2167 rolls around, we’re going to be accused of serious moral failures.

I obviously don’t know what the world will be thinking in 150 years, but I can imagine a few of today’s common practices that might be looked at harshly.

There’ll be no statues to anyone who drove a car and polluted the Earth. Or to anyone who flew on an airplane. Catching a fish and watching it flop around in the bottom of your boat gasping its last breaths will disqualify you from memorialization. Boiling a lobster will win no points. Eating a hamburger might be seen as barbaric. Maybe wearing leather shoes will draw criticism.

Depending on how things turn out, having protested against an oil pipeline might be censured. Or maybe having fought for the pipeline will be the problem. So no schools named for you.

Choosing to be buried in a cemetery may be seen as wasting good land. Eating too much may be frowned upon because others didn’t have enough food. That park won’t have your name on it.

If you bought tickets to a football game, or even watched it on television, you may be out of the running to have a street with your name. You supported an industry that scrambled the brains of young men.

What we consider controversies today may be settled history one day. Was it right to allow doctors to perform abortions? Was it right to tell people they could ask for medical help in dying? If you come out on the wrong side of history, no matter how well-intended you are today, forget that library named for you. There won’t even be a bookshelf to remember you by.

There’s nothing wrong with pointing out that the people who built Canada made mistakes. Serious and shameful mistakes.

They hurt people and the pain they caused reverberates still. Honouring them, though, does not endorse every act, deed and thought of their lives. It says that we’ve judged that they made significant positive contributions to our country. And we are grateful that they did.

So it’s time to ask ourselves if we really want to spread the solution that Parliament’s Hall of Honour arrived at. No one has ever been good enough. No one is good enough. No one ever will be good enough.

If someone wants to translate that into Latin perhaps it can replace A Mari Usque Ad Mare as our national motto.

It is worth pointing out that when we’re all dead and gone, we’re going to be judged by future generations