What do we want? Everything!

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FOX BROADCASTING A focus group might find the Simpsons don�t want property taxes going up on their home. But does that mean they want to go without services like garbage pickup and road repair? (CP)

In the classic Simpsons episode The Itchy & Scratchy & Poochie Show, desperate TV producers enlist the children of Springfield to help fix a long-running but ailing cartoon.

After corralling Bart, Lisa and a couple of other kids in a boardroom, the producers hold a focus-group session aimed at improving the Itchy & Scratchy Show.

FOCUS-GROUP FACILITATOR: How many of you kids would like Itchy & Scratchy to deal with real-life problems, like the ones you face every day?

THE KIDS: Enthusiastic shouts of agreement.

FACILITATOR: And who would like to see them do just the opposite -- getting into far-out situations involving robots and magic powers?

THE KIDS: More enthusiastic agreement.

FACILITATOR: So, you want a realistic, down-to-earth show -- that's completely off-the-wall and swarming with magic robots?

THE KIDS: Yet more agreement.

The not-so-subtle subtext of this 1997 episode was the fickle nature of TV audiences, specifically die-hard Simpsons fans. The focus-group scene, however, also did a fantastic job of sending up shabby research in general and made a broader statement about the impressionable if not outright clueless nature of the supposedly well-informed everyman.

Decades ago, social scientists started using focus groups to observe group behaviour. These sessions were not intended to provide answers to any specific questions, as people in groups tend to be influenced by each other or session facilitators.

Nonetheless, focus groups became popular in advertising, marketing and political circles, as purveyors of products, services and politicians wanted to "test out" their wares on real human beings, regardless of the legitimacy issues.

The fallacious tendencies inherent in these sessions now infect many areas of political life, as politicians routinely justify decisions on the basis of supposedly scientific feedback from their constituents.

Take Mayor Sam Katz, for instance, who has made a habit of telling reporters he "has not received a single phone call, letter or email" about subjects he does not deem important. Such a statement equates the absence of information with actual information, even though no effort has been made to obtain opinion about the subject in question.

But even attempting to obtain opinion, sometimes under the disingenuous rubric of "public consultation," is fraught with problems. Take council's half-hearted effort to solicit public opinion about the upcoming operating budget, which is widely believed to include the first property-tax increase in the city since 1997.

If you ask the average Winnipegger whether they want their property taxes to rise, and include no other context, it stands to reason they will tell you they do not want to write the city larger cheques. After all, who likes paying taxes?

But if you ask the same Winnipegger whether they would like to see more police on the streets, they will very likely request more officers.

More frequent snow-clearing? Yes, they would likely say. More potholes filled? Longer hours at libraries and community centres? Yes, yes and yes, thank you very much.

Ordinary voters are not politicians or policy wonks. If you don't provide them with the background, they likely won't draw any connection between the revenue the city rakes in from property taxes and the money it takes to maintain, never mind improve, services such as policing and road repairs.

In other words, Winnipeggers are not that different from the kids on The Simpsons. They may not see any contradiction inherent in wanting to hold the line on taxes and improving services at the same time. Given the choice, they'll take the real-life situations, with the magic robots, please.

This does not mean voters cannot be informed. It's just that most municipal leaders don't make much of an effort to keep them informed.

And for the past few years, as city revenue growth has fallen far behind the increasing costs of delivering services, a significant rump of council has been selling the public on the merits of freezing property taxes as an end unto itself.

Contrary to erroneous claims made by other media, Katz never promised to maintain the freeze during his third term in office. During the 2010 election campaign, he merely promised to do everything possible to avoid a tax hike.

As it appears those avenues have been exhausted, the city faces a hike of five per cent or even more when executive policy committee tables the 2012 operating budget late this month.

Both inside and outside city hall, critics suggest it might have been more prudent to allow taxes to rise a couple of percentage points in 2010 and 2011. But arguing about the past is pointless.

Moving forward, our leaders need to engage the public in a debate about what it actually costs to run a city. Katz has done this to some extent, in terms of his quest to wrest more growth revenues away from the province -- an effort that has so far fallen just as flat as former mayor Glen Murray's effort to create a "New Deal."

Our current mayor, however, is better informed than many voters realize. After 6.5 years in office, he has a firm grasp on the tax-and-revenue conundrum and knows what must be done.

It's time make some tough decisions and explain to the public why they must be made -- instead of deferring to public opinion that has not been sought in any meaningful way.

If taxes must rise, then raise them. Or cut services and take ownership of that decision. Just don't blame anyone else for the situation, as every informed voter has seen this coming since 2006.

In democracies, we elect leaders to make decisions on our behalf. We expect them to remain true to those decisions despite the vagaries of public opinion.

Swaying with the masses is not part of the deal.

bartley.kives@freepress.mb.ca

Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition February 5, 2012 A8