LP_468x60
ontario news watch
on-the-record-468x60-white
and-another-thing-468x60

With the return of the House of Commons, the NDP have been insisting, over and over, that they will make universal pharmacare the subject of their first bill of the new Parliament.  Jagmeet Singh even went so far as to make this vow to prime minister Justin Trudeau in Question Period as a signal that he was super serious about it, but there's just one small problem.  Well, actually, more than one problem, but the biggest one is that what he's promising is a non-starter on pretty much every level.

The first point is that this is a hijacking of private members' business by the party leader.  There are three NDP MPs in the first tranche of 30 private members' spots in the order of precedence Peter Julian, Leah Gazan, and Alistair MacGregor.  They should, by rights, have the spot to bring forward a piece of business that is important to them as an MP, not what their leader thinks will be a good wedge against the government.  I know that the NDP like to do everything in lockstep and solidarity, and so on, but this is Singh literally robbing the agency of his own MPs in order to advance his agenda.  His MPs should object to this, but given how the party tends to manage its caucus, that's unlikely to happen.  (Seriously public dissent is not tolerated in the party, and MPs are frequently punished if they display any).

The bigger problem, however, is that the premise of the bill is far beyond the scope of what private members' bills can accomplish, in particular because they are forbidden from spending money.  Government bills can spend money because they can authorise the Royal Recommendation necessary to do so that's why they're the government, and why the House of Commons holds them to account for that very power.  There is no way that pharmacare can be achieved without federal dollars, so that should be a non-starter right there.  Additionally, healthcare is an area of provincial jurisdiction under Section 92 of the Constitution (with some federal exceptions related to the armed forces and Indigenous communities), so any bill that comes forward to try to implement pharmacare should similarly be declared non-voteable by the committee that vets these bills.  Singh may try to challenge that by appealing directly to a vote in the House of Commons (by secret ballot), but it's unlikely to pass if both the Liberals and Conservatives and likely the Bloc as well would be against it.

This isn't to say that Singh may not be trying to be clever about it.  In the party's press release on the matter, it was insinuated that the bill may try to lay out a framework like the Canada Health Act for which provinces would receive funding under the programme.  The problem there, of course, is that this would be a unilateral imposition of a framework at the federal level rather than by negotiation with the provinces, given that it's their jurisdiction.  If he thinks that's the way to get the provinces on-side to implement an extremely costly program that they would be responsible for delivering and maintaining if a future federal government decided to cut back on it say, to pay down the deficit then he's sorely mistaken, particularly as provinces are already balking at the notion of the programme.  It also ignores that these kinds of negotiations would need to happen to establish a common national formulary as to which drugs are covered under the program.  Provinces like Ontario are proposing that instead of pharmacare, the federal government simply pay for things like drugs for rare diseases, which are the most expensive and among the most rapidly-growing segment of provincial drug costs, which still leaves gaps in coverage.

Singh also proposed that the federal government sweeten the deal for provinces by restoring the health transfer escalator to six percent per year, rather than the new formula of three percent or the equivalent of nominal GDP growth whichever is higher.  (If you call this a cut, as the NDP like to, you're wrong because a cut would imply money was taken away.  It's still rising, but simply at a slower rate).  The problem is that healthcare costs are not rising at six percent annually in the provinces, and in most, they're not even rising at three percent last I checked.  That means that governments were using those healthcare dollars for other things, even though they would insist they weren't, but math is math.  For Singh to demand that yet more money flow to the provinces beyond what would be part of the pharmacare program is simple lunacy.

Singh's apologists have been insisting that a bill on pharmacare is more about keeping the pressure on the government than it is about what is appropriate under parliamentary rules, but this seems to me to be a bit of an insult to the MPs whose slots were taken in order to make this statement on Singh's behalf.  They have also been pushing a false narrative that the government has abandoned their promise to implement pharmacare, both by misrepresenting the promise itself (which was to follow the principles of the Hoskins Report and to negotiate with the provinces with a $6 billion down payment), and by claiming that they abandoned it because the health minister, Patty Hajdu, had the audacity to tell the truth in that she couldn't guarantee it would be up and running by the end of this parliament because it depended on the negotiations with the provinces.  After all, why should the truth matter when you're selling promises of quick and painless federal programs?

What I find most irritating about this whole incident is the fact that virtually nobody is calling out the fact that Singh simply cannot deliver on his promise when it comes to this bill or that it would even be deemed voteable.  Instead of having a proper conversation about the position of the provinces, or what other measures the federal government is taking, whether it's with regards to the Patented Medicines Price Review Board or the establishment of the Canadian Drug Agency, we're giving credence to this kind of posturing, which only serves to set up false expectations, and encourages Singh to keep making false promises.

Photo Credit: Victoria News

The views, opinions and positions expressed by columnists and contributors are the author’s alone. They do not inherently or expressly reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of our publication.


Is Justin Trudeau sad?

He sure looks sad.  He looks positively dejected, in fact.

In his few public appearances since the election, Trudeau has radiated none of the boyish charm that was the signature of his first term in office.  Gone are the selfies, the costumes, and the maddening preoccupation with social media.

In their place: a grown-up Prime Minister, kind of.

The beard, the flecks of grey, the downcast eyes: all of it combines to give the Liberal leader the gravitas that he has  lacked for far too long.  He may be ineffably sad, but the sadness sits well on him.

Plenty of folks have similarly been struck by how changed Trudeau now seems to be.  And ironically, and whatever is the cause that it has matured Trudeau.

It may sound a bit like Kremlinology, but it can't be denied that Justin Trudeau is different, now.  Even his detractors say so.

One of his biographers, the CBC's Aaron Wherry, has observed that Trudeau is showing more introspection, and more humility, than ever before.  He seems "less youthful," declared The Economist.

"Humble," agreed someone at the Toronto Star. "Sombre," they said.  Even card-carrying Trudeau critic Rex Murphy has acknowledged it: "There has been a change in his manner since the election."

Now, it's not as if Trudeau lacks justification.  Raging wildfires in Australia, dozens of Canadians killed by Iranian missiles, crippling weather, an impeached and distracted president, climate change and economic uncertainty, a coronavirus global emergency: 2020, the experts agree, has deeply sucked, and it is only days old.  There is little about which any Prime Minister can celebrate.

But there's something else at work here something that is not easily attributable to 2020's bleak headlines.  More than current events explains the change in Justin James Pierre Trudeau, PC, QC.

The conservative rageaholics tweet wild speculation about Trudeau's personal life.  All of it is fair game, to them.  And all of it is is mean and lacking in proof.

The answer, like so many things in politics, may be hiding in plain view.  It's not a mystery.

Justin Trudeau is downcast humble, sombre, older, changed, and all of the things the commentariat say he is because he lost the election.

Because, you know, he sort of did.  Everyone, including his opponents particularly the Tories, who selected Andrew Scheer because they thought he'd be a reasonable placeholder leader, until someone better came along believed Trudeau was preordained a second Parliamentary majority.  It was his birthright.

And he didn't get one.

Blackface, LavScam, Aga Klan, GropeGate, deficits, the Griswolds Go To India: all of it came together to bring Justin Trudeau down to Earth.  And at the worst possible time, too.  An election.

It can't be denied, of course, that Scheer and his campaign manager ran one of the worst election efforts in recent memory.  Jagmeet Singh lost half his caucus.  Elizabeth May could only add a single, solitary seat to what she had.

Trudeau did poorly in the 2019 federal general election, bien sûr,  but he knows he is only Prime Minister because his adversaries did a lot worse.

So, he's sad.  He looks humbled.  He's seemingly older.

Canadians like it.  An Abacus poll conducted a few days ago concluded that "a clear majority see him doing an acceptable or better job."  His party is more popular than it was, and Trudeau's negatives while still a bigger number than his positives are shrinking.

We don't know why you're so sad, Justin Trudeau.

But we're kind of happy about it.

Photo Credit: Vox

The views, opinions and positions expressed by columnists and contributors are the author’s alone. They do not inherently or expressly reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of our publication.


Two men enter, one man leaves.

So it goes in the Thunderdome, and so it shall go in the Conservative Party.

On one side, we have the smug former cabinet minister and mushy Tory who, when he last led a political party, betrayed his promise to never merge with the other conservative party by merging with the other conservative party.  You know him, you love to remember his helicopter flights: Peter MacKay.

On the other, a man from the Conservative wastelands of Ontario, a man whose name is known to no one: Erin O'Toole.

Presiding over this is not a bunch of raving Aussies chanting like lunatics, lusting for bloodsport, clinging to a steel dome-cage, we have the Conservative Party of Canada.  A rag-tag bunch of corporatists, exurbanites, and oil men down on their luck and out of power.  Their milk bag of an interim-leader, Andrew Scheer, left battered and defeated by mighty Justin Trudeau and his rag-tag bunch of different corporatists, bougie urbanists, and soft-core environmentalists.

MacKay and O'Toole are the presumptive big boys to usurp Tory crown, and it's already shaping up to be pretty grim.

O'Toole launched his campaign this week with a twitter video saying he'll fight for the people against the elites and all that.  He's a "true blue" Conservative, an implied contrast with MacKay he later made explicit at a launch event where he said the Nova Scotia Conservative would drag the party toward the Liberals.

The party of O'Toole is one that would stand up for the online posters of this country who aren't afraid to get a little politically correct.

"Who's going to stand up for our history, our institutions against attacks from cancel culture and the radical left?" he asks.  He'll also protect statues of John A. Macdonald, those rare sights across our country.

MacKay for his part is going for the gambit of building the party as a big tent organization through the use of empty platitudes and French that embarrasses even Montreal-dwelling anglos like me.

You kind of have to wonder what sort of guy has both the ambition and self-regard to think he should be leader—and presumably prime minister—but unwilling to use his time in the wilderness to come back even vaguely competent in French.

But, no matter, he's a hockey playing straight shooter, just the sort of salt of the earth former cabinet minister, son of a former cabinet minister the party needs to get back to winning.

Which is to say MacKay is the hilarious sort of meathead who says things like, and I swear this is a real quote from the National Post, "I'd rather fight [Justin Trudeau] UFC rules.  Or on the ice — no headgear, no gloves."  Nothing says I'm so tough like saying you turned down a boxing match because actually you're too hardcore and your friends from your old school used to be way cooler than the nerds at this place (but the real reason is you're a coward, and might have lost a test of strength to a — gasp — Trudeau).

If you're not into the stuff he's willing to say to a reporter, with a presumably straight-if-a-bit-long face, how about some insipid blather from his Twitter feed?  "On this campaign we'll listen and build a common vision of growth and opportunity.  Of a Canada that stands tall in the world."  That's it, that's the tweet.  Stirring stuff.

His Instagram feed is filled with even more platitudes, but these ones fire at you with big colours and bigger fonts, which actually does a pretty good job of distracting you from the fact he's still saying absolutely goddamned nothing.

MacKay is the presumptive frontrunner in all of this, already racking up a series of endorsements from several corners of the party.  You have to assume his goal for the time being is to say as little as possible and just get across the line to victory.

By casting himself as the "real" Conservative, O'Toole seems determined to make MacKay actually stand for something, or at least get down in the dirt a bit and fight for the crown.

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the other folks in the race.  Marlyn Gladu is running, who you most certainly remember as the MP for Sarnia and opposition health critic for, it seems, the last two-and-a-half years.  Best of luck to her!

There's a smattering of the usual business guys who are running, or thinking about running, to bring to politics their public sector know-how or whatever.  Good for the party, I guess, to get a stack of entrance fees from of a bunch of vanity campaigns.

Then there's an undeclared part of the field that seems to consist mostly of social-conservative cretins plunked in front of a camera on CTV to say terrible things about gay people so Power Play can have a few days of reaction, counter-reaction, and counter-counter-reaction.  TV's great!  You love to see it!

Who's going to win?  There's no real way to tell.  Up until he quit the race with only a few weeks to go, Kevin O'Leary looked like he was going to run away with the job.  The Conservative party is a weird beast, and it can't seem to figure out what exactly it is since it's now lost twice to Trudeau.

In O'Toole and MacKay the party has two men who are sort of willing to duke it out to define what this next Conservative era looks like.  Will it be the empty slogans of the big tent MacKay, or the empty slogans of the half-hearted culture warrior O'Toole?

We'll know in five months.  Two men enter, one man leaves.

Photo Credit: The Post Millennial.

The views, opinions and positions expressed by columnists and contributors are the author’s alone. They do not inherently or expressly reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of our publication.