My unexpected seven-hour chat with the premier of B.C.
‘Longest interview ever!’ Horgan tweets with posted photo after disembarking
John Horgan looked up at me. I looked down at him. And I suspect we both muttered “damn” under our breaths.
What are the odds that aisle seat 16C on Air Canada Flight 117 from Toronto to Vancouver would put me beside the premier of British Columbia? I suspect this would not have happened with former Liberal premier Christy Clark, criticized for flying charter jets to her Kelowna constituency. Horgan is the working-class hero from Victoria, with a razor-thin minority government, and only too happy to fly with regular folk.
Ten minutes before, I had introduced myself to Horgan and his wife, Ellie, in the departure lounge at Pearson International Airport.
They were returning from a short getaway to Prince Edward Island, following the recent premiers’ conference in New Brunswick.
I was returning from a North America conservation biology conference in Toronto.
Horgan wished me well on my pending retirement, gave me a fist bump, and we parted ways.
Or so we thought.
I am not a political junkie, so the thought of making endless small talk with the province’s political leader seemed daunting.
Horgan, travelling without his handlers, no doubt would have preferred anyone but a journalist seated next to him, hanging on his every word and peeking at his notes and computer screen.
Still, this was an opportunity not to be missed.
“Can I take a selfie?” I asked, tweeting out our situation minutes before takeoff.
“Sure,” he said, adding: “Tell them we are flying economy.”
Then we waited. And waited. The plane sat interminably on the tarmac.
It turned out there were small dents on the exterior of the Airbus A320 and we had to wait for a technician to inspect the damage and deem the plane safe to fly.
And so began my unexpected seven-hour chat with the premier of B.C.
No notebook — that would have changed everything. No formal off-the-record agreement. Just a casual conversation between two tuskers — he 59, me 63 — with the unstated condition that I not seize the opportunity to screw him over.
“Can I buy you a beer?” I asked after we finally became airborne. “And would you sign the back of the receipt?” The couple happily obliged, Horgan writing, “One long flight!” (which I did not take personally, though perhaps I should have) and his wife, “Best beer in many a day!”
A souvenir for the retirement man-cave, I reckoned.
We settled on Goose Island IPA from Chicago — the only craft beer available on board — and as time passed at 34,000 feet, we became comfortable with each other’s company, or at least the inevitability of it.
There was no structure to our chat, just a random shotgun-spray of topics that ranged from his love of politics to mine of the environment.
Following on the premiers’ conference, Horgan spoke highly of the openly gay premier of P.E.I., Wade MacLauchlan. Ontario’s Doug Ford? Less so. Horgan noted that Ford’s government, elected in June, had promptly cancelled 758 renewable energy contracts. “Can you imagine if an NDP government did something like that?” he said. “We’d be crucified. But because they’re Conservatives ...”
I pointed out to Horgan that B.C. and Ontario share a dubious distinction: the only two provinces in Canada that do not routinely fund the measly $30 PSA test to help men detect prostate cancer — and encouraged him to do something about that.
This is a topic where Horgan and I share some common ground: He was diagnosed with bladder cancer a decade ago, me with prostate cancer close to two years ago.
We are both hanging in there and making the best of it, knowing the future carries no guarantees and that it’s best to get on with it.
“I’m having the time of my life,” Horgan said.
Seeking to lighten the discussion, I reached into my deep well of environmental trivia and set him straight on the differences between a sea otter and a river otter (smaller, with a long tail, and found in fresh and salt water.)
On topic, I related a story about a sea otter named Whiskers that drowned a dog at Friendly Cove on the west coast of Vancouver Island, then raped it while simultaneously swimming past two of the deceased’s barking friends that had the good sense to stay on dry land. That story carried my favourite headline in four decades of daily journalism: Fifty Shades of Fur.
Horgan grew up in Victoria, near the late icon of Canadian journalism, Bruce Hutchison, and has maintained an interest in journalism throughout his life. In opposition, Horgan had his battles with the legislative press gallery, unable to stay quiet over what he considered inaccurate or unfair reporting. The Liberals took full advantage, deriding him as Hulk Horgan.
He told me he appreciates Vancouver Sun columnist Vaughn Palmer for his balance and perspective, and he relished wiping the smile off Province columnist Mike Smyth’s face over a game of pool during the election campaign, repeated postelection.
Since becoming premier, Horgan has adopted a more statesmanlike persona. It’s not deliberate, he said, or something his handlers have forced on him. It’s just that anger works better — if at all — when you’re in opposition rather than in government.
Today, Smyth describes Horgan as a “changed man.”
There is one journalist who Horgan would like to bring into the fold: talented Victoria-based freelancer Tom Hawthorn, but Hawthorn turned the premier down for fear of being painted with a political brush.
“I just wanted him for his writing talent,” Horgan insisted.
Horgan laments the demise of political cartoonists, and says he counts former Province cartoonist Bob Krieger as a friend.
He laughs when I mention I commissioned Krieger in 2010 to draw a cartoon of Bill Vander Zalm picking the limbs off a miniature Gordon Campbell. That’s when Vander Zalm was kicking Campbell’s butt around the block over the harmonized sales tax. The cartoon, a gift to my brother, was a takeoff of a 1978 cartoon by Bob Bierman depicting Vander Zalm — then Social Credit human resources minister — cruelly picking the wings off flies. Vander Zalm sued, ultimately unsuccessfully, over that one.
Horgan’s current riding is Langford-Juan de Fuca, but he was first elected in 2005 in the constituency of Malahat-Juan de Fuca, which included the southern Cowichan Valley. He is familiar with the Maple Bay area where I recently bought a home, and nods in agreement when I say how quickly I have fallen in love with the valley, including its natural beauty and pace of life.
That is why a fixed link to the mainland must never be built, Horgan said, for fear the Island would forever lose its charm. At about this point in our conversation Horgan looked at the map of Canada on the screen in front of his seat showing how far our flight had travelled. He recoiled to learn we were still in western Ontario, and had not yet flown over a single blade of Prairie wheat.
Ellie, who had been quietly watching the BBC drama Call The Midwife in her window seat, put her arm around Horgan’s, as if to say, “It’ll be fine, dear. We’ll get through this together.”
I learn that the couple met at Trent University in Peterborough, Ont., in 1979, two years after I joined The Vancouver Sun. They have two sons: Evan, the youngest, and an assistant branch manager at Vancity Credit Union, and Nate, who teaches in London, England, and speaks six languages.
Time for another beer. This time Horgan insisted on paying, to even things out and avoid a full-blown conflict-of-interest investigation.
Deciding to lobby for another personal cause, I criticize NDP MLA Scott Fraser (Alberni-Pacific Rim) for being a champion for the protection of caves and vulnerable karst ecosystems while in opposition, but doing nothing for them now that he is in cabinet. Fraser is minister of Indigenous relations and reconciliation and chairman of the environment and land-use committee, which puts him in a position to finally make a difference.
Horgan reminds me that Fraser is, uh, rather busy, and is highly competent — one of his easiest choices for cabinet.
I am also curious about what it takes for a journalist to get to the premier, to make a difference, to effect change, and not just be part of the debate. I am a bit deflated — but shouldn’t be — to learn Horgan doesn’t have time to closely follow the news, leaving it to his unelected staff to determine what merits his attention.
And so the conversation went, until the airline captain announced the start of our descent into Vancouver airport.
“I was hoping to do a lot of reading before you showed up,” Horgan said.
I hope he enjoyed the experience. I know I did.
Horgan likes to talk — a lot — but he does not monopolize the conversation. He listens, asks questions, and enjoys a good belly laugh.
He also came off as a passionate politician, unafraid of wading into tough issues, and quick to speak his mind — which may make voters like him as much as not.
When we finally disembarked, it was Horgan’s turn to take the selfie and tweet: “Longest interview ever! 7 hours on a plane with @lpynn of the Vancouver Sun. He retires in four weeks. It will take him that long to write about all the things we talked about.”
Indeed, an unexpected political gift for a somewhat apolitical reporter.