Stefanson and a fine — was it suitable punishment?

There is something utterly unsatisfying about the political epitaph that has been written about former premier Heather Stefanson.

Manitoba’s first female premier resigned her seat in the spring of 2024, seven months after she and her Progressive Conservative party were thumped by the NDP in the 2023 election. The insult to the injury came in June 2024, when the NDP captured Stefanson’s Tuxedo seat in a byelection.

If that was the last we heard of Stefanson, it would have been a sufficiently tragic end to her long career in public service. Unfortunately for Stefanson, that is not the last we heard.

In May, Jeffrey Schnoor, Manitoba’s ethics commissioner, found that Stefanson, former deputy premier Cliff Cullen and former economic development minister Jeff Wharton, violated the Conflict of Interest Act by trying to get an environmental licence for the controversial Sio Silica sand mining project following the 2023 election. The transgressions occurred during the so-called caretaker period, in which an ousted government must not undertake any consequential decisions or actions while it hands over the reins of power to a new government.

Although no licence was issued, Schnoor found the three elected officials tried to bully civil servants into issuing one. In a landmark finding, Schnoor recommended Stefanson, Cullen and Wharton be fined for their role in this conflict of interest: Stefanson was fined $18,000, Cullen $12,000 and Wharton $10,000.

On top of the financial penalties, the three politicians had to suffer the humiliation of having the Manitoba legislature — including all Progressive Conservatives — unanimously approve the fines.

However, do the fines and the shame of the legislature vote match the gravity of the offences? To fully answer that question, let’s look at what has transpired since the vote.

Stefanson has landed on her feet and now serves as a director for some of Canada’s biggest corporate entities. Canada Packers, a subsidiary of value-added food behemoth Maple Leaf Foods, welcomed her as a director, as did WestJet, the Calgary-based airline. Stefanson is also a director of a Toronto wealth management firm, Forthlane Partners.

When contacted about the findings of Manitoba’s ethics commissioner, Maple Leaf Foods said it has “the utmost respect for the integrity and personal ethics of Ms. Stefanson,” and that “none of the findings in the ethics investigation have caused us to change that view.” The other two companies declined to comment directly on the ethics investigation and fines.

The fact that corporate interests in this country disregarded the details and magnitude of Stefanson’s ethical transgressions is not a criticism of Schnoor or Manitoba law. On the contrary, the casual disinterest demonstrated by those companies underlines the incorrigible attitudes about ethics demonstrated by far too many within the business world.

Which brings us back to the question about whether the punishment fit the crime. Although some may think the combination of a public shaming and fine are punishment enough, it’s clear Stefanson hasn’t suffered in the slightest. In fact, it appears she remains in the black after the fact.

Just this month, it was confirmed that Stefanson received $96,000 in severance for resigning her seat. The former premier is absolutely entitled to severance, but it’s hard to ignore the fact that her windfall is more than five times the fine she has to pay for betraying democratic principles and the trust of Manitobans.

How should Stefanson be remembered? Certainly, she is entitled to be known as Manitoba’s first female premier.

But the personal sting of her punishment by the legislature will probably last longer than the actual impact of the fine itself.