Movies, CBC, and the Erasure of Canadian Stories

I open up the movie guide to our local art house theater and discover a movie that seems quite remarkable. In French and Inuktitut, The Necessities of Life tells the story of an Inuit who is sent down to Quebec City to receive treatment for his tuberculosis. It is a quintessentially Canadian film. Will it appear on the big screen in popular theatres? Will many Canadians see it? Heck, will many Canadians ever hear of it? No, no, and no. Why? Because Canada doesn’t value its own stories nearly enough.

A movie theatre experience up here is primarily an American experience. Most stories are American stories: here’s the princess landing in Manhattan, the football hero from Syracuse, the American soldiers raising the flag. When a Canadian story makes it into the mainstream theatres—Passchendale, for instance—it’s big news, as much for its rarity as for anything else.

The media most able to compensate for the appalling absence of Canadian stories in movie theaters is the CBC. Canada is a huge, sparsely populated country, home to diverse cultures, and CBC, I submit, helps to create the ties that bind its citizenry together more than any single institution. How do immigrants to Canada “get” Canada? For me, it was the CBC.

When I first lived up here, I lived in Toronto but for all intents and purposes it was just as easy for me to live in my American mindset via American media. It wasn’t until I moved to a rural area where the U.S. stations weren’t available that I started watching CBC. Suddenly I began receiving different news told from a different point of view. Canadian politics started to intrigue me, Canadian comedy made me laugh, and CFL football was a fresh take on an old game.

And yet here comes the CBC having again to slash jobs and programming due to a nearly 200 million dollar deficit. CBC seems to be dying a death by a thousand cuts. The government looks on, expecting its national broadcaster to fulfill a mandate that it is unwilling to fund sufficiently. A study from 2005 by Nordicity Group Ltd. revealed that of 18 western countries, Canada has the 3rd lowest level of public funding per capita, ahead of only New Zealand and the U.S. And the gap between it and the leading country, Switzerland, is $154/person vs $33/person in Canada. Since that study, CBC’s funding has continued to erode.

The saddest part of this story is that Canadians aren’t particularly outraged, at least not according to the comments added to the news articles appearing on the internet. That so many Canadians think it’s not worth watching is merely a reflection that it's been allowed to become so. The CBC has become less capable of doing what a national broadcaster ought to do: to go not where the money is or where the biggest demographic lies, but to find the compelling untold story, the forgotten history, the issue that’s been shunted aside because its complex or ugly or difficult to tell. National broadcasters can introduce us to those strangers who are our fellow citizens, be they in Lunenberg or Luskville, Gjoa Haven or Prince George.

An American ex-pat pleading for the CBC—that's a sad commentary on Canada's commitment to its own stories. Canadians know they struggle with what it means to be Canadian, beyond we’re not American. The message of movie theatres is that Canadians are, in fact, American, or perhaps more accurately, wannabe-Americans, but the CBC attempts to provide some glimmers of an answer—even as its resources fall away—as to what “Canadian” might mean. Why not show it some respect?

The Dignity of the Office

Well, wouldn't you know it? Soon after I declare former U.S. Presidents would never act as panelists on a game show, the current President shows up on Late Night with Jay Leno! At least the ensuing debate was all about the proverbial "dignity of the office." Some people were all worked up about the new President not sufficiently upholding that dignity. Listening to Pat Buchanan talk afterward about the President’s egregious action, you'd have thought President Obama had peppered Leno with a series of fart jokes.

And then, thinking about the dignity of the office, I go to a local mall over the weekend and there's Canada’s current Minister of Transportation, formerly Minister of the Environment, with a booth set up to meet citizens in his local riding. It was another one of those "I'm not in Kansas anymore" moments.

Unelected, members of the Cabinet in the States don’t have to gladhand. Nobody walks into their local Sears and says, “Oh look, isn’t that Condi Rice passing out a flyer about her qualifications. Let's ask her about fixing that nasty pothole down the block.” No sir. The President’s cabinet are his knights of the round table, answering to no one but their lord and master. Sure the President can appoint fools—remember Michael Brown, head of FEMA during Hurrican Katrina (not quite a cabinet posting I know)—but the President also has the ability to bring in some serious talent.

Canada draws its Ministers, however, from the elected MPs of the party in power. It can be a rather shallow pool to fish in. Yes, there is some talent present, but generally it seems there are more positions available than talent to go around. Inevitably some minister not up to snuff does something that makes it clear why they’re not up to snuff. They return to the backbench and somebody else gets their kick at the can.

I like the democracy represented by the Canadian ministers, but sometimes—when I hear about Obama’s cabinet--I wish there were a bit more kick-ass talent and experience up here. Then again, there’s something heartening about seeing the Minister of Transportation out and about doing what democracy, with all its shortcomings, requires of any citizen who would seek to govern.

A Metaphor in America

Over the weekend Christina Romer, Chair of the President's Council of Economic Advisors, said that she agreed with Warren Buffet that the U.S. is in an "economic war." Let's hope it's not a war like the war on poverty, the war on drugs and the war on terror--none of which the U.S. has won, and a good case can be made that none of them are winnable. War, war, war. Perhaps it is time to ask if the dominant metaphor meant to engage the U.S. populace still serves the country well.

Lyndon Johnson introduced the metaphor in a big way back in 1964 in his State of the Union Address where he announced his War on Poverty. Richard Nixon brought in the War on Drugs. A few years later he even brought in the War on Cancer, and we all know about the War on Terror. It would seem America has a very limited repetoire of responses to things that it identifies as killing its citizens. And it was only a matter of time before a journalist was bound to turn the metaphor against the government, as when Chris Mooney wrote The Republican War on Science in 2005.

War is a popular metaphor south of the 49th. And why shouldn't it be? The U.S. is a country that started through a revolutionary war, then expanded its territory through wars against aboriginal peoples, then held itself together through a brutal civil war, only to arrive as the dominant world power after WWII. War is in the very DNA--to use another metaphor--of America. And so when a President or politician wants to convey the gravity of the situation, they declare war, shorthand for the more earthy "we are in some very deep shit here, folks."

The problem is that the metaphor is evocative, rather than rational, which is precisely one of the reasons it gets used. War requires a marshalling of resources, bold action, swift response. Much can be justified under the banner of war. And so America has wrecked havoc far and wide in its War on Drugs, imprisoning more of its citizens that any other country, exporting its war to Central and South America and even to Afghanistan, where that war intersects with the War on Terror and might very well be working at cross-purposes to it. War doesn't lend itself to reflective questioning; in fact, it blows right past it. Imagine if instead of declaring a War on Terror, simple questions were asked from simple facts: there are people in parts of the world who hate us so much they want to kill us. Why is that? What is it we can and ought to do to address this hatred? Different options suddenly begin to appear; ah, but this is all Monday morning quarterbacking, to use another popular American metaphor (and one from a game that has war as its metaphor...Is there no escape? As metaphor in America, war is a hall of mirrors).

Now we come to one of Obama's key advisors saying we are in an "economic war." I do note that it is not the President himself who spoke, but Romer's ready adoption of the coinage suggests the metaphor is again in play, and may yet infect not simply the larger discourse on the economy but the very nature of the actions that are taken and the attitudes that support them. How can we stop it before it takes hold?....Declare War on the Metaphor!

(Note: You will then understand how deeply, when I first came to Canada, the talk of peacekeeping struck me; I would even say touched me. I knew nothing of Lester Pearson or Canada's allegiance to its peacekeeping principles. Peacekeeping was more than a breath of fresh air to me; it was a warm and steady breeze. Canada's recent questioning of that heritage and its movement towards combat forces is a topic for a later post).

The Organization of Maple Syrup Producers

Canada's Globe and Mail had an article in the Business Section about maple syrup. You know something's up when maple syrup makes it into the business section. Nobody I know thinks of it as a business; it' s been a hobby, a seasonal ritual, a family affair, maybe even a calling. But a business?

It seems the demand for the syrup is skyrocketing at the same time that production is tanking. Prices have gone through the roof and--voila!--those folks who yearn for the combination of cold nights and warm days that make the sap run can now earn a living at producing maple syrup.

Knowing this profitable situation isn't sustainable on its own, I propose that maple syrup producers unite and form a cartel. Anything that can make Kellogg's Frozen Waffles tolerable, if not tasty, deserves a fair price. Here's the deal: Quebec, my home and, as the Globe and Mail puts it, "the Saudi Arabia of Maple Syrup," (now there's a byline to appear on every Welcome to Quebec sign)--starts the (snow)ball rolling by initiating contact with Vermont. With Quebec and Vermont as the founding members, Maine and New Hampshire will beg to get in...and what, by the way, is the value of a cartel if no one's begging to get in?

In honour of my old Vermont friends and hardscrabble Quebecers who tap trees all across the province, I'll volunteer to be the first President of the OMSP (Organization of Maple Syrup Producers). All I ask is a lifetime supply of the amber elixer for myself...and my children... and okay, for their families too, whenever they have them.

Canada's Next Great Prime Minister

Sometimes something happens up here that even now, after more than 15 years of living in Canada, takes me by surprise. This one might seem innocuous enough—it’s CBC’s show, starting its 2nd season in a couple of weeks, called Canada’s Next Great Prime Minister. It’s a show in which four former Prime Ministers act as a panel, selecting the Canadian whose prescriptions for Canada make them worthy of being crowned Canada’s Next Great Prime Minister.

It sounds clever enough—a political game show that doesn’t seek to titillate, demean or offer sensationalism. Important issues might get some significant air time with an audience who, drawn to the competitive format, wouldn’t otherwise tune in to the news. Yet I am struck by how an equivalent show like this would never, NEVER, see the light of day in the States. The simple fact of the show says something both about Canada and the States.

As an American ex-pat, I know that not one President, never mind four, would ever agree to be a panelist on a political game show. It’s a non-starter because of the often invoked, but seldom explained, “dignity of the office.” Americans, Presidents in particular, take “the dignity of the office” seriously. It’s one of the reasons why Gore wouldn’t challenge the Supreme Court’s ruling in favour of Bush. It’s why Congress hesitates to aggressively investigate presidential wrongdoing. The office is larger than the man.

Does this mean that the office of the PM lacks dignity? Let’s just say the office is less burdened with carrying the nation’s meaning (see the Post of January 4th). The PM is voted into office as a member of Parliament only by the people in their riding; in this, they are closest to being the equivalent of a U.S. congressman. They are then selected by their party as their leader. Their “term” can last but a few scant months if their government receives a non-confidence vote, and they can unceremoniously be dumped as party leader. Such a set-up does not lend itself to the office being imbued with a historical accrual of dignity. The dignity in Canada would seem to be brought to the office by the particular person serving as PM, rather than the office conferring dignity upon the person.


The other oddity is the show’s implicit, underlying premise: the regular political process doesn’t often get us great Prime Ministers, so let’s see if we can use a game show to get one. The national broadcaster—bored perhaps from years of its standard election coverage—seems to want to take a crack at discovering the country’s next Prime Minister. Once done with that, would they be willing to take a risk on the show lurking in the shadows and set aside a primetime slot for Canada’s Last Great Prime Minister?…Pause…Who WAS that? Was it one of the judges on the current show? Imagine if the current panel of judges--four former Prime Ministers: Joe Clark, Brian Mulrony, Kim Campbell and Paul Martin--would instead become contestants, making their case before a panel of citizens that they were, in fact, the last great one. Politicians pleading for their legacy--now that would be TV worth watching!

Friendships North and South

I spoke to a friend in Portland, Oregon last night who had moved down to the States from Canada about 15 years ago. Both she and her husband have become U.S. citizens. At the end of the phone call she said, "Great to talk to you. I so value our Canadian friends, they're different than our American friends." Naturally that caught my attention, a chance to pursue someone else's cross-cultural musings. "What do you mean?" I asked, wishing I had a digital recorder in easy reach.

"Well," she went on, "Canadians ARE different. They have more heart. Here it's harder to be vulnerable. Now don't get me wrong, I love our American friends, they're dears, but it's harder to go deep in those friendships. There seems to be more compassion in our Canadian friends, maybe because of the social safety net. Here, if you're needy, it's all about pulling yourself up by your bootstraps where Canadians have more of a belief in 'I am my brother's keeper.'

My friend's remarks brought me back to a conversation several years ago with a successful cousin of mine, an entrepreneurial doctor, about how I liked Canada. At the end of my response, he looked at me and said, "you know, the U.S. is the greatest place to be in the world if you have money and your health, and it's been great for me, but I know if you don't have those, it can be a real hell."

My friend's husband, also a Canadian, had recently lost his executive job as a result of the stuggling economy. I wonder if the greatest place in the world is about to morph into something else for him. And who knew, in the furnace of getting ahead in America, that one may have friendships not quite equal to the task of being your brother’s keeper.