Photo-ops a health hazard for politicians

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Tory Leader Hugh McFadyen speaks next to his Health Critic Myrna Driedger, centre, and Bretton Tyler, who already has an insulin pump. (JOE.BRYKSA@FREEPRESS.MB.CA)

Ah, the political gods are a cruel bunch, and no one knows that better than Tory Leader Hugh McFadyen.

At a news conference Tuesday, McFadyen tried to deliver a smackdown on the NDP government. Instead, he served up a healthy dose of bad luck with a side of irony.

McFadyen was making a campaign-style pledge to help children with juvenile diabetes. The Tories had stacked their legislative caucus room with two dozen children who suffer from juvenile diabetes, and their families, to press the province to provide insulin pumps. It's a good issue; the current government does not do this, even though it's standard in other provinces.

Although next provincial election is still 23 months away, the Tories pledged that should they form government, they would spend $2.1 million to buy insulin pumps for Manitobans under 18 who suffer from Type 1 diabetes.

And then, a young lad who suffers from diabetes and who was wearing an insulin pump fainted from what was later reported to be low blood sugar.

Depending on your political bent, this was either a minor setback that derailed McFadyen's announcement, or a graphic demonstration of the seriousness of the issue. The only thing we know for sure is that it ended the news conference right there and then.

The fainting spell should not obscure the fact that McFadyen raised a valid issue. And on the heels of his revelation late last week that the province had spent more than $14 million to deliver a fancy new identification card that only 8,000 Manitobans are using (that's $1,700 per card), he's on a roll.

However, Tuesday's incident is yet another reminder of how little wiggle room politicians have to make mistakes when they are trying to funnel their message through the media.

(As an aside, I do not like it when politicians invite victims to serve as props at news conferences. It is a risky strategy, in large part because of unavoidable complications like the ones witnessed Tuesday. But also because it is essentially a misguided strategy. There is a belief by some political strategists that to show the public you are standing with a victim, you have to be physically standing beside them. It's not necessary -- most media would rather interview real-life victims outside of the legislature -- and inadvertently portrays the citizens who appear at these events as shills, and not the average folk they probably are. But I digress.)

It is important to note that this is not just a Tory affliction. As long as there have been podiums, microphones and cameras, photo- ops have been backfiring on those who designed them.

Long-time political watchers may remember the 1995 provincial election, when an up-and-coming Liberal Leader Paul Edwards went glad-handing on Corydon Avenue on the first day of the campaign. Edwards inadvertently wandered directly in front of the Morgentaler abortion clinic, which suddenly put the Grit leader in a situation he never imagined he'd be in. An opportunistic journalist noticed the gaffe and immediately lobbed Edwards a "pro-life or pro-choice" question. A pro-lifer, Edwards found himself embroiled in an issue that was not supposed to be an issue in that election.

Or former Tory Premier Gary Filmon, who picked up a pool cue for an impromptu photo-op at a Forks bar while election stumping. Filmon did not realize he was standing in front of a bank of video lottery terminals, not the backdrop his handlers wanted. Tory staffers rushed to stand on either side of him to block out the VLTs; the Free Press ran a before picture, where you could see the machines, and an after picture with grim-faced staffers as human shields.

Travelling in northern Manitoba with former Premier Gary Doer in 2003, I was the only reporter to watch as an impromptu photo-op of the premier splitting a log turned into a 20-minute axe-wielding horror show. The log was green, but that didn't deter Doer from hammering away at the obstinate stump. Several times, glancing blows very nearly severed his leg. Both the photos and the accompanying story were not what the premier's handlers had in mind.

The photo-op is great when it goes well. But when an event falls apart, or suffers a completely inadvertent mishap, politicians have to live with the fact that sometimes, all people remember is the mishap and not the message.

In this instance, despite the fainting episode, it appears McFadyen got his message out. Most media outlets are reporting primarily about the shortage of insulin pumps, and not the fainting spell. But it serves as a reminder of just how incredibly hard it is to make politics look easy.

dan.lett@freepress.mb.ca

Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition November 25, 2009 A6