The courage of your convictions

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 21/08/2023 (1022 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

‘Use your mouth words.”

It’s something you might say to a three-year-old having a temper tantrum as you try desperately to get them to tell you what the problem is.

All you really want is the straight goods: “Are you tired? Are you hungry? Thirsty? Have we spawned a horrible monster? Will this ever end?”

Often, a three-year-old is unable to communicate their needs. Sometimes, revved up, they simply refuse to. And sometimes, their messages are only apparent to those who know them extremely well.

Enter politics.

It may be a long-standing political method, but right now it feels like we are firmly ensconced in the era of the dog whistle.

Dog whistling is the nickname for using coded language to show support to a particular group of voters, without actually giving that support out loud.

With a deeply fractured electorate, political parties seek support wherever they can find it: often, that involves drawing together voting blocs that don’t agree with each other, or at least are uncomfortable all being in the same tent.

And sometimes, that means a politician has to say something while claiming to say nothing at all. One group gets a wink, another, a nod.

The beauty of the perfect dog whistle is that, both pre- and post-election, you can deny that it means anything at all.

If someone calls you on your choice pre-election, you can play dumb and deny that you used coded language to reach a particular audience of voters. (All the while secretly elbow-nudging those “in the know.”)

Conversely, post-election, when asked to live up to your whistled commitments, you can argue that there’s no proof that you actually promised anything of the kind. (The traditional post-election denial starts with “nothing could be further from the truth…”)

Without meaning to pick solely on Tories, two recent experiences stand out.

First, federal Opposition Leader Pierre Poilievre saying if he forms government, his minister won’t attend the World Economic Forum (WEF). Sounds fine, except the WEF is at the core of some pretty out-there world-political-domination fringe conspiracy theories.

Then, Manitoba Premier Heather Stefanson, who promised her party would deliver new “parents’ rights” legislation — hot-button language for groups in other provinces that want to wind back inclusive education, ban books and limit rights.

Both could be innocuous statements. Maybe Stefanson just wants parents to put down their phones and be more involved in their children’s education. Maybe Poilievre just wants to save taxpayers’ money (and the environment) by not having ministers flying to Europe.

But to believe the scripted comments to have been innocuous, you’d also have to believe either that the politicians involved were woefully ignorant or being managed by incompetent staff, neither of which is true.

Reading letters to the editor from all points on the political spectrum, it’s abundantly clear that, now more than ever, the right and the left aren’t speaking to each other or persuading each other. They now write in demonstratively different languages, making their arguments only to those who already agree with the position they’re espousing.

Politicians on all sides are taking advantage of that.

Behind the giant pipe-organ that is the Free Press editorial page sits today’s editorial writer. (Writer turns around on the organ bench, waves.)

It’s a person who has been a regular voter in many elections, someone who’s voted for Liberals, for Conservatives and for the NDP — the mythical middle-ground “swing” voter, the kind of voter that is the difference between winning and losing an election.

In other words, the kind of voter every political party wants to reach.

So, use your mouth words.

Explain in plain language what you would do if elected. No winking to the cheap seats.

Have the courage to outline your true convictions. Earn that vote.