Without apology, Stefanson’s political legacy tarnished forever

One of the most troubling aspects about former premier Heather Stefanson’s 2023 ethics breach isn’t just what she did — it’s that she still doesn’t think she did anything wrong.

Stefanson was fined $18,000 for trying to push through a licence for a Sio Silica sand mine project after losing the Oct. 3, 2023, provincial election. She paid the fine last week, according to House Speaker Tom Lindsey. But she remains defiant.

Ethics Commissioner Jeffrey Schnoor’s report on the breach, released in May, was damning. It found that Stefanson, then-deputy premier Cliff Cullen and then-economic development minister Jeff Wharton violated the province’s Conflict of Interest Act by attempting to approve a licence for the proposed mining project after the Progressive Conservative government was defeated.

All three ministers pushed to have a Class 2 licence under the Environment Act approved for Sio Silica, days before the new NDP government was sworn into office.

That violated the “caretaker convention,” a constitutional principle in Canada that prohibits governments from making major policy decisions once a general election is called, unless it relates to an urgent matter of public importance, like a natural disaster.

What made this scandal even more severe is Stefanson attempted to get the license approved not just after the election was called, but after her government was defeated at the polls.

“The efforts to have the project licence approved by Ms. Stefanson, Mr. Cullen and Mr. Wharton were taken despite their knowledge that voters had rejected the former government and had placed their trust in a new government,” Schnoor wrote in his report. “All three knew the requirements of the caretaker convention and both Mr. Cullen and Mr. Wharton had been given specific warnings that approving the project licence during the transition period would breach the convention.”

The facts of the case are straightforward. The Sio Silica proposal was undergoing a detailed environmental assessment by provincial regulators. There were serious concerns raised by environmental officials and others about potential groundwater contamination and the project’s long-term safety.

Instead of letting that process run its course, Stefanson decided to intervene. Worse, she did so after her government lost the election.

She pressed officials to expedite a decision.

That is textbook political interference. The licence was ultimately not approved. But the fact that the person holding the province’s highest office couldn’t see that she was breaking the law — or worse, didn’t care — is what makes this so egregious.

It was an attack on democracy.

“The caretaker convention stands at the very core of our democracy,” wrote Schnoor. “The legitimacy of a government depends on the support of the electorate, expressed in elections. A government that loses an election has lost the confidence of the people and has lost the legitimacy to do anything beyond maintaining the status quo until the new government can take office.”

For a former premier to reject those findings — or at least show indifference to them — from an independent officer of the legislative assembly is nothing short of stunning.

After Schnoor’s report was released, Stefanson released a statement saying she spoke to the NDP about the project.

“I had no obligation to do so but reached out to the incoming government and fully considered their views before deciding on what to do,” Stefanson said in a statement earlier this year, noting a licence was never issued to Sio Silica.

The fact the former premier still refuses to acknowledge the ethical implications of her actions speaks volumes about her integrity. She’s treating the commissioner’s findings like a political disagreement rather than a legal determination by an independent officer of the legislature.

That’s the truly galling part.

This isn’t a partisan witch hunt. It’s an official finding under Manitoba’s own laws. The ethics commissioner is an impartial watchdog, tasked with upholding the integrity of public office. When that office determines the premier broke the law, you’d expect some humility — maybe even an apology. Instead, Stefanson is showing defiance.

The former premier argues she didn’t stand to gain financially from the proposed mining project. That’s not the point.

The point is she attempted to make a major policy decision when she no longer had the moral authority to do so. Manitoba voters rejected her government and she was no longer in a position to make decisions on their behalf.

The $18,000 fine — though unprecedented in Manitoba — is a slap on the wrist compared to the damage done to public trust. What really matters now is whether political leaders, from all parties, learn from this.

Stefanson clearly hasn’t learned that lesson.

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In her mind, she’s the victim of overzealous oversight — a premier punished for trying to grow the economy.

That’s what makes this entire episode so troubling. It’s not just that she broke the law. It’s that even after being caught, she still believes she’s above it.

If Stefanson wants to salvage what’s left of her tattered political legacy, she should do the right thing and acknowledge wrongdoing. She should issue an unqualified public apology.

Anything less would leave an enduring black mark on her time in politics.

tom.brodbeck@freepress.mb.ca

Tom Brodbeck
Columnist

Tom Brodbeck is an award-winning author and columnist with over 30 years experience in print media. He joined the Free Press in 2019. Born and raised in Montreal, Tom graduated from the University of Manitoba in 1993 with a Bachelor of Arts degree in economics and commerce. Read more about Tom.

Tom provides commentary and analysis on political and related issues at the municipal, provincial and federal level. His columns are built on research and coverage of local events. The Free Press’s editing team reviews Tom’s columns before they are posted online or published in print – part of the Free Press’s tradition, since 1872, of producing reliable independent journalism. Read more about Free Press’s history and mandate, and learn how our newsroom operates.