The throne speech: an oft-predictable event

It’s hard — really hard — to speak harshly about the perennial chicken-in-absolutely-every-pot that is the long legislative tradition of the throne speech. It’s like dissing free candy.

But here goes.

Throne speeches have always been pomp and circumstance more than anything else — an opportunity for promises and governmental self-praise. But as the years have gone by, throne speeches right across the country have devolved more into pump and circumstance, becoming almost exclusively an opportunity for governments to shamelessly blow their own horns.

The best part, of course, has to be that they get to use the King’s representative as their delivery system, quite literally putting words in the mouth of the vice-regal representative.

We say this with years of experience, covering years of throne speeches. Editorial writers are often long in the tooth media veterans who have covered different administrations of varying political stripes. (The author of this particular editorial has experienced at least 75 throne speeches, including federal offerings and provincial throne speeches in Ontario, Newfoundland and Labrador, Saskatchewan and Manitoba, and can legitimately claim to be an expert, but jaded, witness on the topic.)

They truly are a form of performative legislative art — and get more so, it seems, every year.

The stage-managing is regular. Like provincial budgets, tasty tidbits of the throne speech are often selectively leaked to different media organizations to garner the most possible coverage of government initiatives. This, despite the fact the speeches themselves don’t even have the commitment of a budget, where there are hard spending numbers in the accompanying Estimates document.

In some ways, they at least recycle.

“My ministers are determined that the level of services provided to Manitobans shall be maintained and improved, but the uncertainties that exist surrounding federal intentions are a cause for serious concern among all members of the legislature. I am told that you will be informed of the progress of federal-provincial negotiations on this important subject,” one vice-regal representative read.

Guess the year.

If you picked 1980, you’d be correct. But to be fair, it could be one of many years.

“We are committed to a renewed partnership with the Government of Canada, as we pursue our mutual economic objectives. We will only succeed as a nation if we work together.” — 2021

“As new storm clouds gather in some of the world’s leading economies, our government will work closely with Manitobans to monitor the implications for the provincial economy – and with the federal government to formulate appropriate policy responses.” — 2011

If you think you’ve heard it before, chances are, you have.

Arguably, the throne speech serves a role in saying what the government intends to do in the coming year — but, as is often the case in throne speeches, this year’s version included 48 things the government has already done, blurring the lines between self-promotion and any pretence of laying out a plan for the near-term future.

To add insult to injury, a motion will be read to thank the vice-regal reader and accept the speech, which will succeed, while the opposition traditionally moves an amendment, which will fail.

And all of this will take eight days of legislative debate, beyond the speech itself.

The debate often features lengthy orations about individual political districts: here’s a sample of one piece of debate.

“Langruth is a great little community and hosts a harvest festival, which includes children’s activities. The graffiti station was a hit this year where kids could go paint an old relic car. And another unique game to play was the cow patty bingo, something for everyone there.”

The process is a ritualized political theatre, with its own rules and styles, but not much in the way of actual deliverables.

And much legislative time wasted.