Politicians must serve all the public

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This article was published 24/06/2016 (3403 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

When does public service only mean “some” of the public?

In June of last year, the streets of Toronto were filled with a who’s who of Canadian politics. There they were — Liberal Leader Justin Trudeau, NDP Leader Tom Mulcair, Green party Leader Elizabeth May and Ontario Premier Kathleen Wynne, along with other politicians — walking arm-in-arm in the Pride walk along Yonge Street. It was campaign time, and this was an important place to be. If you were a politician, you were progressive, accepting and — God forbid — “liberal” in your position on gay rights.

The missing face was that of our soon-to-be-outgoing prime minister. Stephen Harper. Despite his failing national popularity, he simply couldn’t bring himself to play the Pride card. He just couldn’t. This was the man who, within months of being elected to office, set his sights not on health or economic reform, but on social reform.

In the summer of 2005, under Liberal prime minister Paul Martin, Canada became the fourth country in the world, and the first outside Europe, to legalize same-sex marriage. In December 2006, the newly elected Conservatives tried to introduce legislation to restore “the traditional definition of marriage without affecting civil unions and while respecting existing same-sex marriages.” Because the Conservatives had only a minority government, the motion was easily defeated.

Leap ahead more than 10 years, in the context of one of the most tragic mass murders in North American history, the shooting at a gay nightclub in Orland that left 49 people dead. It would seem certain conservatives are still not willing to support the LBGT community. Provencher MP Ted Falk — like his former leader, Stephen Harper, is saying no way to Pride parade organizers in Steinbach.

It was surprise enough to hear a Pride parade was going to happen in the ultra-conservative and religious community. But even its mayor, Chris Goertzen, has told Steinbach Pride organizer Michelle McHale a letter of official support is forthcoming.

So let’s talk about the jobs of our public servants. Heck, let’s talk about your job and mine.

I recall sitting in a leadership training seminar not that long ago. Our affable speaker was strolling past tables of attentive executives and came to a purposeful stop in front of me. He said, “Scott, do you represent yourself in your job?”

My cynical self concluded it was some type of trick question, and somehow the answer was to be “cheese sandwich” or something equally absurb. But no, my logical self spoke confidently: “Yes. Who else would I represent if not myself?”

To the surprise of no one in the room, I was incorrect. We were quickly advised there was no job description in the world that was created with me in mind. Jobs are created to represent and serve only the interests of employers. Employees would change over the years, but the mandate of that role would not. Imagine my disappointment when I was told my job was not “all about me.”

Back to the freshly re-elected MP of Provencher. Let’s forget the name for a moment and think only of the position. On the Parliament of Canada’s website, members describe their role in a variety of ways. “I am first and foremost a representative of the people and accountable to those who elected me,” one MP says. So my trainer was right. We don’t represent ourselves personally in our jobs.

Here is a fictitious example: a deeply religious MP is asked to attend the birthday celebration of a constituent who has turned 95 years old. But the constituent has been married four times and claims her recipe for a long life is because she dances and drinks whiskey daily. This is offensive to the MP’s religious beliefs. Does the politician refused to attend?

If we say yes, is it always yes? Is there never a time when personal beliefs intersect with political obligation?

Our politicians are elected and mandated to serve the entire public, not 25 or 50 per cent, and not just those who contribute to campaigns or offer blind support.

Several decades ago, television provided the stage to deal with a variety of social issues, including gay rights. On one fledgling show, in its first season, the issue of homophobia was set on its ear. The main character through a series of comedic events was surprised to learn one of his best “bar buddies” was gay. The episode shocked a nation, including then-U.S. president Richard Nixon.

The main character of this groundbreaking show may be the most openly racist in television history. But even this bombastic bigot would surprise us all with his big heart and willingness, albeit reluctant, to accept diversity.

His name was Archie Bunker. And that, people, was 45 years ago.

Can we please move on?

Scott Armstrong’s career in media spans more than 30 years. He has taught journalism at a college level, and most recently worked as general manager at CJOB.