FCP

It’s time for the Canadian Grassroots to Mobilize 

[Friday, Dec. 5, 2008]

I am a believer in democracy. Like many of the others who write for this site I place democracy above and beyond parties, seeing little promise in political parties in and of themselves. Parties, when left to their own devices, become insulated and arrogant. Democracy demands constant renewal, and a transparency that can only be achieved through the sort of agitation we are seeing with the proroguing of the house. Discussions about a progressive coalition between the New Democratic and Liberal Parties, with support from the Bloc Quebecois, has awakened a vigorous political voice and awareness. This should be causing Canadians to ask tough questions about the connection between the party system in the country and the political system that makes the idea of a coalition seem like a long-shot.

For the record, it isn't.

But instead of reflecting on this, a majority of Canadians, and the media in particular, are focused on the personalities of leaders, the quality of videos, and the stubbornness and childishness of all those concerned. The worst part is, all of this is being seen through the lens of party politics -- What do the Conservatives have to gain from proroguing Parliament? Do the Liberals need a new leader? Are the NDP socialist? Is the Bloc trying to use this as leverage to get a sovereigntist agenda on the table? The media and Canadians seem to think about and treat politics as if it revolves only around Parliament Hill, and to assume that a coalition is some sort of aberration in an age-old political system.

But is a coalition really that crazy an idea? Is a coalition in the Canadian political system nothing more than a party “power-move” that will wrench control away from an un-conciliatory governing party? Is a coalition possible in Canada, and does it undermine a government? If so, what -- and maybe more importantly, who -- must support it?

To answer these questions, let me start by posing that all of the events in Ottawa since the abysmal showing of the last election indicate that something has to change, and not just in the short-term.

With parliament stalled for the next six weeks, the Conservative Government has the ability to create a federal budget without having to face any of the day-to-day scrutiny provided by a democratic opposition in the Canadian House. The parties on the left and left-centre have some work to do, and will undoubtedly face a crippling public relations campaign from the Conservatives as they go about this work. Without the ability to topple the government, and without the ability to use Parliament as a platform for opposing the Conservative vision (or lack thereof) for national economic and social reform, the political field of play has shifted.

While proroguing might seem to signal a lost chance for a coalition, we might instead see it as a chance for real opposition of a different kind. With the avenue of party opposition gone, there must be a rallying of the grassroots, progressive, labour, social justice and environmental organizations which dot the nation and continue to work no matter what happens on Parliament Hill. It is time for the grassroots of this nation to mobilize against Conservative cuts to social programs, against the fear-mongering about deficits that accompanies such an economic downturn, against the idea that a continuity of government -- and the "stability" so many Canadians are asking for -- means one-party government. We need to see grassroots organizations and community coalitions rally together under the banner of social justice and democracy. The grassroots must create a new field of political play that makes parties want to reach for them, bend to them, and listen to them.

Put simply, this crisis of Canadian politics should be a wake-up call for Canadians about our democracy and the processes that protect it. Democracy isn’t about parties creating a space for citizens to live and participate in. Democracy is about making parties come to us.

Labour in Canada has already begun the process. Yesterday, rallies were held across the country, sponsored by the the Labour Movement. As is often the case, the multiplicity of labour unions and locals are the first to feel and react to global market downturns. Last month Canada lost 70, 000 jobs. That’s seventy-thousand. Go ahead, say it out loud. Now consider that you would have to look back to the recession of June of 1982 to find such a staggering number. It is no wonder that Labour is already tweaked the wrong way, and that the Conservatives' attempts to suspend the right of the public sector to strike set off some serious alarm bells.

But where are the rest of the groups? Where are the poverty advocates? Where are the environmentalists? Where are the women’s groups? Where are the Indigenous Rights coalitions? Where are the immigration advocates? Where is the progressive base and support for a multi-party, conciliatory framework that makes party politics wake the hell up?

Let me pose one possible way of thinking. Let's, as Canadians, stop looking to parties for initiative. Stop expecting authority, vision and initiative to flow down. Instead think about what strong local movements can do do the national arena of politics. I propose something that Canadians are heretofore kind of poor at considering. I propose the solidification of a strong grassroots advocacy for particular issues. We know, and we have seen fresh evidence, that partisan politics as an end in and of itself is useless. But political parties can only employ partisan politics as a legitimate political strategy if we accept that they represent the limits and confines of our political possibility.

There is politics beyond parties in this country,and  there must be an acknowledgment of politics beyond the state as we traditionally think of it. The state is more than the government; it is more than the parties, and it is more than your vote. It is the people. The key to waking people up to thinking of the political in this expanded sense lies in the mobilization of the grassroots apart from, but along with, the uniting of parties in a parliament that purposely gave no party a clear mandate. An awakening of "the grassroots as political" would look a great deal like the progressive awakening we've seen in the U.S.  But we must acknowledge that we are not America -- we didn't coin "Yes We Can", and we needn't co-opt it at our rallies -- and that our system and culture necessitates a different way of thinking about society and politics. First, we must contemplate that a coalition system might be the only thing that will allow a Parliament crippled by partisan hackery to operate. A coalition might allow the plethora of regional and diverse economic interests in this country to coalesce and function, to realize the will of the people.

I don’t care what the make-up of this coalition is. I don’t care if it includes the Bloc, Liberals, the NDP, or Conservative.  But a move to coalition politics is a natural extension of Canadians' splintering political consciousness, and the only way to ensure that the nation is held together while allowing the population to maintain a diversity of opinions. Canada is not a liberal country, nor is it a conservative country. It is a nation with a plurality of visions that must be governed with an eye to accommodating this plurality harmoniously.

Seeing politics beyond the parties of this country lets us think of politics as a conciliatory and negotiated sphere where we all must wrestle with the power that political decisions have on our lives. We elect MPs because they stand for what we believe in and because they can represent us, our families, our regions, and our ideas of how the country should be shaped. We don't elect them because they are from a particular party, or because they are from a “national” party. MPs are not a product of the parties; parties are products of the need for MPs to reflect their constituents. If we elect a minority, then we are sending a clear message that we want the parties to find common ground and to have the discussions that we can’t sitting in our houses and apartments. Politics is absolutely not limited to something ageing white guys in suits "do" in Ottawa. We're a part of it, especially if we recognize the distinct way our votes elect MPs whom we trust to speak on our behalf in the House of Commons. In turn, we expect them to listen to us, and to carry our message to Ottawa. We get so hung up on the idiosyncracies of party leaders -- Harper's sweaters or his eyes, Layton's cockiness, Dion's accent -- that we forget the power we are able to entrust in our MPs. We don't vote with this in mind, and in turn, we don't understand what it means when the majority of the MPs we voted in lose confidence in the minority governing party. We think the coalition is undemocratic, and somehow a reversal of what we voted for. Really, it is perhaps the most democratic thing that could happen: a majority of our elected representatives are asking to determine what happens in the House of Commons.

Democracy is a dialogue. Without parliament it falls to the grassroots to remind the Conservative government and any other government, including a coalition, where their responsibility and power lies. It lies with the grassroots, with the people -- not solely with the parties that represent us.



An open letter to America:

[Wednesday, Nov. 5, 2008]

I remember finishing off the 20th century watching G.W. Bush advancing toward the White House, and telling my parents that if that man ever became President of the USA, there would be nothing but trouble. They didn't believe me at the time.

I'm going to be 30 years old in the spring. All I've ever known of America is the Reagan America. I've grown up looking south and being saddened by the seething fury that somehow took root in it: despite Martin Luther King; despite Mark Twain; despite what Barack Obama has called your better history. I discovered Walt Whitman and learned about the possible universality of the American thought, what an American Dream worthy of the name might look like. I watched this election and thought of Whitman, but not so much when I watched Barack Obama as when I watched all of you who supported him.

Ultimately, what's important isn't that you elected a leader who's going to take you to the tomorrow you've promised yourselves. No leader can do that on his or her own; that tomorrow may, in fact, never come. That very risk is precisely why people hope, and why they struggle. But what is important is that a great leader is the focal point for an energy, a mood, a power, to form. Barack Obama served as the focal point for your energy: against cynicism, fatalism, paranoia, hatred and greed.

President Obama may, and probably will, make mistakes. He will be criticized, and often rightly so. That's relatively unimportant. This has been about you. You showed yourselves and people beyond your borders, whose lives (like mine) are nonetheless affected by how the USA conducts itself as a member of the world. Barack Obama is a disarming, powerful rhetorician, but all of you disarmed me. For at least one day I feel I can stop being skeptical. For the first time in my life I watched America and felt that kindness, generosity, and graciousness might win. I felt like I was reading Whitman's poetry.

But, as your president-elect has pointed out, don't see this victory as the change you want. This is just a turning point and the fight will pass to generations that follow ours. Proposition 8 in California is just one example among many of things that cannot be accepted. You've dropped a pebble into the ocean, and it needs to become a great wave. This election has been important to me, because had there been no Bush administration, the religious right in my country would never have accrued the political power that it has. This sea change in America is good for you; it's good for us; it's good for many other people. Nobody knows how far it could go; but that's why "perhaps" and "maybe" can be just as beautiful as "yes."

Congratulations, not primarily on your new President, but on your new resolve, and your new hearts. Don't be sad anymore! Fight joyfully! Thank each and every one of you for doing this.

[I originally posted this entry at Salon]


Running the Gauntlet: Heading to the Polls in America

[Tuesday, Nov. 4, 2008]

The vote. It’s supposed to be a symbol of democracy, of freedom, the right to choose one’s leader. After 2 years of campaigning, of information overload, of SNL skits, interviews and debates American’s are finally set to elect the next President, the leader of the free world. But, before they’re able to cast their vote they’ll have pass one last test. To ensure that their vote will count they’ll have to outwit, outsmart, and outlast the last ditch efforts of those wily voter intimidationists (VIs).


Voter intimidation has been a longstanding feature of the American electoral process. But with the invention of the inter-web, the caller-id blocker and the Xerox machine, voter intimidation has become a sophisticated art. To ensure maximum intimidation VIs start early with the voter registration process. VIs send out official looking mass fliers and letters to predominantly minority neighborhoods warning would be voters that they are ineligible to vote and could be arrested at the polls for unpaid parking tickets, arrest warrants, or previous arrests. Immigrants were also told that it was illegal to vote by VI’s posing as voter registration officials. Other VIs have sent out official looking letters telling voters that due to high volumes expected at the polls Republicans would be voting Nov. 4, while Democrats would be voting Nov.5. VIs don’t just limit their tactics to minorities; no one is safe from the robo-calls and mass emails that invade the homes of voters. With the mass numbers of students voting this year, VIs have found a new group to prey on, inventing new ways to intimidate these first time voters. Many would-be students have been scared away by VIs who claimed that if students registered to vote they would be classified as independents and could no longer be claimed by their parents.


Those voters who manage to make it past the initial VI intimidation tactics aren’t in the clear yet. They still have to make it to the polling station, through the potential speed traps and road blockades to deter would be voters. Those voters that are lucky enough to make it to the polls and can cast their vote still have a long way to go. If they can manage to understand the complicated ballots, voters still have to cast their votes. Here is where VI’s make their last stand, guns blazing. Those technically savvy VIs don’t have to resort to the old-fashioned ballot stuffing. Nope, these VIs are so sophisticated that they’ve managed to infiltrate the computerized system to manipulate the votes. Already this year, as in the past, early voters have complained that they’ve voted for one candidate yet, the other’s name appeared.


So today, as Americans head to the polls to fulfill their civic responsibility, let us remember the challenges that these men and women have faced to get there, the battles they’ve won against the intrepid VIs, and hope that their commitment to the American ideals that got them to the polls in the first place will prevail and will be reflected by actually electing the next President.

Alan Greenspan: "My bad..."

[Thursday, Oct. 23, 2008]

Don't worry folks: Alan Greenspan has been sent to the corner for what he did, and business can now continue as usual.














Greenspan takes one for Team America





McCain "Endorsed" By al-Qaeda Supporters

[Wednesday, Oct. 22, 2008]

Apparently, supporters of al-Qaeda have said they'd prefer a McCai/Palin win in the upcoming US election because he is more likely to continue the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

The UK's Telegraph is reporting (and yahoo news was though te story has gone missing there) that "a message broadcast on the password-protected al-Hesbah site, said they would also welcome a pre-election terror attack on the US because that would make a McCain win more likely."


Did it just get awkward in here?


I'm not sure if this is al-Queda's idea of wit, or if this is a serious political statement but needless to say the endorsement has not been welcomed by McCain. Running on a platform that proposes continued and essentially indefinite supports for the slowly developing government of Iraq, the Al-Qaeda group said that if their organization wants to exhaust the US militarily and economically, "This requires presence of an impetuous American leader such as McCain, who pledged to continue the war till the last American soldier."

"Then, al-Qaeda will have to support McCain in the coming elections so that he continues the failing march of his predecessor, Bush."

"If al-Qaeda carries out a big operation against American interests," it said, "this act will be support of McCain because it will push the Americans deliberately to vote for McCain so that he takes revenge for them against al-Qaeda. Al-Qaeda then will succeed in exhausting America till its last year in it."

Apparently McCain campaigners won't comment on the endorsement, though Obama supporters will surely see this as a stark contrast to the support loaned to their candidate by former Secretary of State, Colin Powel. However, before Obama supporters get too smug, they should read a few of the Canadian and international reports on Afghanistan, which is being pinned up as the Obama administrations attempts to feed into the now routine American obsession with nation-building. Sorry to break it to Americans but the U.S., and its allies are exhausted militarily there, and with the looming recession, I sense that patience for expensive military tactics which are obviously failing to bring stability to the region is wearing thin. Moreover, I fear that the kind of progressive experiments in NGO driven developmental foreign policies—at least the kind that could actually make a difference—and which a new administration might try as a form of redirection, will not likely have a very attentive or patient audience in the coming days...let’s hope I’m wrong.

It is important to note that the telegraph has pointed out that "The message is credited to a frequent and apparently respected contributor named Muhammad Haafid. However, Haafid is not believed to have a direct affiliation with al-Qaeda plans or knowledge of its operations."

We, the governed (3)

[Wednesday, Oct. 22, 2008]

I've already written about the sustaining force of disenfranchisement that supports Canadian parliamentary politics.  I'd like to think about that a little bit more.  What I've called the morality of voting is intimately tied to a projected figure in which each of us--ideally--recognizes himself or herself.  This is the image of the "liberal individual."  What does this mean? That the appropriate persona for our system is the one that rallies around electoral politics, who affirms a certain kind of economy, and whose options for social and political action conform to those available within that system.  In other words, this kind of individual could not properly exist outside of a system of liberal parliamentary politics; conversely, a parliamentarian system needs to have a certain kind of individual in order to perpetuate itself.  (We need to analyze the relationship between liberalism and parliamentarianism,  but if I'm trying to keep this short.)

Now, we can assume that the existence of these two forms (of government, of human being) and their reciprocal relation are "naturally occurring" phenomena whose appearance was inevitable, given that we're taught to praise our system as the pinnacle of human freedom.  But on the other hand, we can see this situation as an historical event, that doesn't need to have necessarily emerged from some progressive development.  It depends on innumerable, repetitive behaviours and actions in order to keep functioning.  It is a system of mechanisms

Sentimental attachment to this system is one of its mechanisms, and the morality of voting is one of its strongest variations.  The moral censure of non-voters is directly tied to the credo that construes liberal democracy and parliamentary politics as, as I have said, "the pinnacle of human freedom"; when tied to capitalist economics, it becomes the one system in which every individual is counted and can, in principle, achieve whatever he or she desires.  And when the morality of voting is deployed against dissenters, who are castigated as lazy and apathetic, it is taken for granted that they are turning their backs on freedom itself.

Here's where I really start having some problems.  First of all, since when was it so apparent that being allowed to pick our leaders is the high-water mark for humanity? And since when, moreover, was there any necessary connection between being allowed to pick our leaders in a parliamentary system and being able to achieve our goals? Since when have these things been a package deal? It all comes down to this: this system can and does exert the power of being able to determine your existence.  If your choices correspond to its parameters, you are (in principle) visible and you have political agency.  The moment you become reluctant to give yourself over to it anymore, two things happen.  1) You find that you are invisible from the perspective of the system's procedures; 2) You are subject to moral censure by those who still adhere to those procedures.  These two things are not coincidental.  They're just two variations of the same operation.  As I said before, you either consent or you're abandoned; but the thing is that you're abandoned to the system, within the system. 

This doesn't mean that, in general, you're disregarded by society.  You still have a certain degree of power as a medical patient, for instance; also, as a consumer, you have agency.  In both of those other cases, you occupy a certain position in a system (which opens onto others) and you have varying degrees of latitude to move and act within the parameters of those systems; however, we have to remember that your freedoms in any system are those parameters.  Or at least, they're connected to those parameters like a moebius strip.  But in terms of the one system that we are trained to think expresses our general human freedom, we are equally committed to a set of limits that are the real form, and in fact the reality, of our freedom.  And in order to enjoy those freedoms, you have to fulfill a role that's been fabricated in advance.  In other words, you have to be a certain kind of human, in order to be recognized by this form of government that promises the expression of our inherent, unconditioned freedom and dignity.

I'm trying to arrive at a deeper point here, and it's that this reveals exactly how bogus a lot of our talk about "human rights" turns out to be once you begin to refuse a political system. Hannah Arendt once said that "human rights" are what you invoke once you've run out of every other option.  And the disjunction between, on the one hand, the political system we use to govern and represent ourselves to ourselves, and, on the other hand, the necessary moral exclusion and political invisibility of human beings who are noncompliant with this general form of governance shows that we have not arrived at any kind of real politics of "human rights."  Human beings are still required to give themselves a certain formation in order to exert fundamental political agency in our society, which means that we're first and foremost regarded as political, systemic individuals.  Not as human beings.


I'll Vote Again When Voting Actually Matters

[Wednesday, Oct. 15, 2008]

How is it that the day after the lowest voter turnout in history, this fact is not the lead story in every newspaper across the land? How are we so embroiled in the party system that we are willing to see a failure of the democratic process as a victory of any kind for anyone?  The system, ladies and gentlemen, is broke. Plain and simple. I know that in elections past, people have talked about electoral reform. Some provinces have even moved towards implementing things like Mixed Member Parliaments (MMPs), but I can't tell you a single time that I have heard it talked about on the federal level in the media or amongst the major parties.

Last night I watched what can only be described as a miscarriage of democratic justice. Before all the partisans in the room jump down my throat for saying such a thing, let me be clear: I am not now nor have I ever been a card carrying member of the Liberal or Conservative Party of Canada. For the record, the NDP is a parking garage for dispirited liberals unwilling to use their imagination and the Greens appear to be high-liberalism's new one-horse show. The parties are straight-up broke and wickedly uninspiring. So, I am equally disgusted with all the federal parties. This has nothing to do with partisan. Put straight, this has to do with democracy. Let's run the numbers.

That first line wasn't a typo: last night voter turn-out was the lowest IN HISTORY!  Elections Canada is reporting that 59 percent of eligible voters showed up to vote.

Of those who voted the party percentage of votes carried looked like this:

Party

  Seats

% of Votes

Conservative Party

 143            

38

Liberal Party

 76

26

New Democrats       

37

18

Bloc Québécois

5

10

Green Party

  -

7




When you crunch the numbers it works out that around twenty-two percent of eligable voters actually cast a ballot for what will be the governing party in this coming parliament. Call me a traditionalist. Call me a conservative--and I don't mean one of these new conservative-gone-financial-liberal-social-populist hybrids--but these results are NOT DEMOCRATIC!

It is important to connect  the low turnout to the fact that we are now entering our third minority government in four years. Some will say that the low turn-out was the product of a beleaguered, lazy electorate. Some will say that this is a show of no confidence for all of the parties. But I've got a news flash for anyone who makes this argument: the vast majority of people never really had confidence in the parties to begin with. The National Post ran a story today online on voter turnout and to explain it they asked a few experts why they thought people didn't vote (why they didn't go into the streets and ask people why they didn't vote is beyond me. After all, 4 in 10 Canadians didn't, so it wouldn't be hard to find a non-voter!)  Here is what the "experts" had to say:

This current election was centered around the track records and personalities of party leaders, and these are not issues that inspire Canadians to vote.
-- Political Science Professor, Andrew Heard, Simon Fraser University

The current U.S. election has overshadowed interest in the Canadian election because there is a more distinctive choice in the U.S. election and a more charismatic candidate, Barack Obama.
- Darrell Bricker, Ipsos Reid, research firm

 22 PERCENT THOUGH! I don't want to belabour the point, but we are far beyond the distraction of elections elsewhere and the focus on personalities in an election, when I still don't know what a Conservative is or wants. This is a symptom of a larger problem, not the problem itself. When 22 percent of the population is electing the governing party we need to look at the other variable that the Post story touched on--the elephant in the room that is Canadian Electoral politics:

Potential voters are discouraged by our electoral system of First Past the Post (FPTP), which can make it more challenging for smaller parties to acquirer seats. Electoral reform proponents believe switching to some form of proportional representation (PR) will produce fairer results and increase voter turnout.
- Political Science Professor, Renan Levine, University of Toronto

Are Canadians so completely dogmatic about the first-past-the-post system that they are willing to reward a party that pulls 38 percent of the popular vote with the right to govern? Not this non-pundit. I've got no alliances to a party so I'm throwing down the gauntlet to truly democractic Canadians. Work for electoral reform, agitate, lobby and attack through all the usual and unusal channels. I'll make efforts in unconventional ways. However, until the system is fixed, you can count my vote out. Add me to the list of disillusioned non-voters.


Freudian Schlep - Hope This Makes Sense Outside the Maritimes

[Tuesday, Oct. 14, 2008]

Stephen Harper, in his "victory" speech last night:

"For Canada's $1.5 trillion economy, for the protection of the Irvings--er--earnings..."

'Nuff said.


We, the governed (2)

[Monday, Oct. 13, 2008]



Today I went by my riding’s Elections Canada office to inquire about voter registration. A friend of mine accompanied me and asked the usual questions; I said that I’d like to know about the actual status of spoiled ballots because I’m not happy with what’s on offer (specifically or generally) anymore. According to the officials that I spoke with, it breaks down like this:

Spoiled ballots are simply those that never end up going in the ballot box. They’re usually cases in which someone makes a mistake on his or her ballot and asks for a new one. Elections Canada simply disregards them and they’re not counted in any way. This definition is given in the Canada Elections Act, Section 2(1).

Rejected ballots are what most of us probably think of as “spoiled” when we talk about spoiling our ballots as a form of protest. According to the Elections Act, the conditions under which a ballot is rejected are: “(a) it has not been supplied by the Chief Electoral Officer; (b) it is not marked; (c) it is marked with a name other than the name of a candidate; (d) it is marked with the names of more than one candidate; or (e) there is any writing or mark on it by which the elector could be identified” (Canada Elections Act, 269 [1]).

Declined ballots are the only legally recognized form of protest vote, and they are distinguished from mere rejected ballots by way of an official procedure wherein the elector returns the unmarked ballot to the deputy returning officer, who then marks “Voted” next to the electors name on the electoral list.

This would be a useful set of distinctions for voters who feel they can no longer comply with our current system of government, except for one thing. There is no official procedure for declining ballots at the federal level. It only exists at the provincial level, and not in all provinces. Barring that, the Elections Canada officials told me, voters can only submit a rejected ballot, which is not officially recorded as a form of protest, even though rejected ballots are counted (as opposed to spoiled ballots). Incidentally, the third definition does not appear in the Elections Act; the Elections Canada officials—who were very helpful, although one of them asked me if I was a reporter, for someone reason—found it in the Deputy Returning Officer’s Manual (Ordinary Poll; General Election, Referendum), which is published by Elections Canada.

And there's a further twist.  According to a 2006 report published by the Canadian Press, Elections Canada has interpreted Section 167(2)(a) of the Act to mean that "spoiling" your ballot is illegal.  Of course, what they mean is that submitting a rejected ballot is illegal—unless you do it secretly, in which case it's just meaningless.  The Elections Canada spokesman interviewed in the article said that submitting a rejected ballot is a waste of any voters' time, since nobody knows about it, and it is therefore not an effective form of protest.  So, either you let people know that you're doing it, in which case your actions are punishable by a $500 fine or 3 months in jail, or you submit it as though it were a normal ballot, in which case it means nothing.  This is Elections Canada's official stance.  And as the spokesman concluded in the article, the only real recourse for dissent is "to become a candidate, or try to find a candidate worthy of support."  In other words: if you're fed up with this system, try more of it.  Your only other options are to be subjected to the criminal justice system or to mean nothing.  "If you don't vote, you can't complain"?  No: in the broad view, there is no way to complain, whether you vote or not.  There is no legal way out of our system of parliamentary politics.

So, at best, there is no recognized way to register non-consent to our political system. Well, that’s not entirely true; since secretly submitted rejected ballots can’t, by definition, be counted as protest votes, they fall into a grey area. Voters who opt for a rejected ballot are counted and therefore incorporated into the officially presented breakdown of votes, but only as detritus. Or, to put it another way, those votes are only included as marginalia or statistical deviations. Legally, anyone who feels the way that I right now has no recourse and no voice within the range of legitimate political expression in this country, except as part of an amorphous fringe mass that is prohibited from composing any real democratic will at the polls. As of 2008, our system of governance—a system that we freely confer upon ourselves, at least according to every social contract theory of democracy to which we give lip service—doesn’t allow us to legitimately say that we want to stop being ruled by it. We’re obliged to choose between the options that we’re given, or we’re consigned to the margin of error.  There is a fundamental, anti-democratic force that sustains Canadian parliamentary politics.  It is the legal disenfranchisement of those who do not consent to the narrow range of possibilities handed to us by those in power.



Competition Knows No Boundaries

[Monday Oct. 13, 2008]

The fine line between Marketing your school and becoming a market school is actually not that fine. Yet, still, researchers seem to find away to blur it with little attention to ethics. The irony of this is especially stark when you run into insulting banner ads by universities that tout the importance of accreditation to being a valuable citizen, or getting ahead in the competitive market world. So I found this beauty and thought I'd share it with
the FCP crowd.


This caught my eye because so many lines are blurred here. I am no purist in the divisions between various parts of our society. I think that the door between things like the church and the state, politics and society, science and commerce etc. is at its core a revolving one. However, falling into the trap where we can use that as an excuse for allowing marketing and scientific research to co-exist by feeding off of peoples anxieties is just wrong--and unethical.  Testing competitiveness in the workplace and school through surveys that you solicit online with inflammatory questions is, to take a stand, wrong and the University of British Columbia ought to be ashamed that this passes their internal ethical compass.



I Can't Wait to Teach Your Kids

[Monday Oct. 13, 2008]

Ninety percent of the students in Western universities shouldn’t be there.

There.

I said it.

I don’t know how to tell you this, but the vast majority of people trotting across the stage for their photo-op/handshake/paper tube pinnacle of achievement aren’t the liberal cosmopolitan subjects our modern forebears thought they would be. The mass, public university system has malfunctioned. It isn’t producing what it was designed to (or what we thought it was designed to). The problem is that we’ve jammed way too much raw material into the front end of the thing—raw material we could have used for something else, if we’d only value those alternative products as much—and the machine simply cannot churn out its end product in the quality and complexity we need.

I can only extend this argument to the disciplines I know: the liberal arts and social sciences (although I have a sneaking suspicion that there is much more to the natural sciences than what is carried out in the craniums of most matriculating biologists and neuroscientists). In History, Sociology, English, Psychology, Philosophy, Economics (sorry, I should have warned you to grab a bucket before using the e-word), and newer disciplines like Public Policy and Administration and Political Science, there are students doing undergraduate degrees who don’t know why they’re there. Many of them enrolled in an acceptably vague program because they didn’t know what they wanted to do and deemed a bachelor’s degree to be an excellent holding tank before release into the real world. I have no doubt that many will end up lithely contorting themselves into beautiful, intricate bureaucratic positions (careful not to touch the red tape!) and staying there, rigor mortised, until they have to be wheeled over to the carpal tunnel rehabilitation centre in their ObusForme office chair to make way for the next generation of shills. I know that a good proportion of them find themselves in grad school. It isn’t a huge leap, especially when graduate programs are literally recruiting students from their undergraduate programs and career fairs based on (inflated) grades and interest alone. The grades, I should add, are what most of the undergraduate (and even graduate) students are working toward now. The learning process, the challenge of new and contradictory ideas, the discomfort of paradigmatic shifts in understanding—these are things that get in the way of the right answer.

 

I know the liberal arts university isn’t doing what it’s supposed to because, if you’re really getting it, it should destroy your faith in humanity before slowly building it back up again. You should have days—maybe months or years—where everything you see in the news or read in an academic journal or overhear in someone else’s conversation is a solemn, indisputably clear indication that the world sucks. If you climb into the ivory tower—and any time spent in the university should be, de facto, time in the ivory tower if it’s done right—you should inevitably want to run back down or better yet, throw yourself out of the highest window. This isn’t to say that universities should be pumping out pessimistic, depressed loners, but that if the system really worked, every single student would spend a great deal of time in that habitus. Looking at students at every level, from undergraduate to post-doctorate, it is clear that the current system makes it quite easy to climb the ranks with your head tunnelled firmly into the sand. There is no other way for a reasonable person to consider basket-weaving in 18th century Virginia an acceptable focus for one’s life work. If universities were doing what they should, there is no way a student could emerge after even four years of intensive reflection, deconstruction and critical thinking, tuck their anthropology degree into a frame, and carry on to work a nine-to-five as a meek, disciplined military analyst helping Canadian warriors understand the Other.

Opening the university system up so that everyone can go—and then creating the discursive conditions in which everyone should go, regardless of interest—has not made the world a better place. University isn’t for everyone. There should only be a handful of people in every graduate program in the world, and just slightly more pursuing undergraduate degrees. In the current socio-cultural climate—one characterized by what I like to call “the educating imperative”—it is sacrilegious to say such a thing. However, I want to make it clear that it is absolutely not my position that only a handful of people are good enough for academia. Mine is not an elitist argument. Only a handful of people really want to think critically for a meagre living, because the rewards of this when it’s done correctly (self-doubt, debilitating pessimism, paralysis) are things not everyone values at the end of the day.


What I hope for is a revaluing of the increasingly devalued alternatives to university. I want high school students to feel like being a carpenter, a baker, an electrician, a farmer, a cook, a fisherman, a small business owner (without a degree!) is just as worthwhile as going to university. It is no less demanding or respectable to work with your body than it is to work with your mind. It is no less admirable to stay in your community and carve out a local niche for yourself than it is to globetrot before, during or after a stint in university. It is time to amplify alternative narratives to the educating imperative. We need these alternatives so that students who are floundering in university right now—text-messaging “omg… so boring” to friends in other lecture halls, skimming assigned readings and proclaiming them to be “really interesting and enjoyable” in their critical reflections (and getting a B+ for it), showing up for discussion groups and leaving after the attendance sheet is passed around—can just walk out. So that high school students can opt out of post-secondary plans without feeling like that decision demands the kind of explanation going to university implies axiomatically.

Universities should not be safe havens for what James Cote calls the “moratorium” on adulthood (and this is one of the only times I will ever align myself with Cote). They should not be status quo institutions everyone passes through and comes out the other side a fully-formed adult citizen. In saying this, I am not arguing for a retrenchment of some universal right to education. What I am saying, in contrast, is that higher education is not the apex of human or personal development. It is just one, optional step toward self-realization among many. The more people there are trampling it down just to say they did it—or perhaps more accurately, just to pacify their parents—the less it means to have climbed it at all.




We, the governed (1)

[Saturday Oct. 11, 2008]

In the October 9-15 issue of Toronto's Now magazine, Mike Smith offers a pertinent and timely defense of non-voting ("Ballot Bailout", p. 24). At a time when my faith in parliamentary democracy is at an all-time and probably irremediable low, I really needed to see remarks like Smith's in public forums. I think we can extract at least three propositions from his article:

1) A first-past-the-post electoral system offers no franchise for dissenters; it absolutizes the purchase, or lack of it, that power blocs have on parliamentary agency. At best, says Smith, it provides a "negative" franchise, "reliant not on my beliefs but on the future weakness of someone else's."

2) Today, the preponderance of representative democracy narrows the scope of what is legitimated as political action. It unjustifiably creates the impression of an "inside" (electoral politics, voting for representatives) and an "outside" (market pressure, different possible strata of non-parliamentary political agency like cities, citizen groups, and so on). In this schema, the former enjoys absolute proximity to legitimate political power and the latter is something like a "deficient" mode whose actions have to be filtered through parliament in order to be made official.

3) The morality of voting, emblematized by the mantra "If you don't vote, you can't complain," is an instrument of representative democracy itself. In a sense, it's the immune system of contemporary electoral politics insofar as it distributes basic political inclusion along the lines of obedience to a particular form.

I find the last point the most pressing, because it's the key to the entire problem. We need to become more aware of the fact that voting as such is a means by which we are governed. It is not just a way of generating consensus; voting is already a form of consent, a de facto unsurpassable horizon of governance. The apparently native connection between, on the one hand, voting to elect representatives and, on the other, the right to political agency enforces a dichotomy that has no more ground than any other possible political arrangement.



The morality of voting is an arrangement for producing and maintaining a particular kind of political system and a concomitant form of political subjecthood. But more than that, it sustains a general kind of government, a general mentality about the ways that we consent to be governed as such. Or, in more Marxist terms, it is a technique for reproducing the conditions of social production; it's part of the underpinning of an entire mental (but not only mental) economy that channels human relations in various contexts. Under the banner of this morality, we are given two ways of recognizing ourselves: 1) As good, responsible citizens who affirm their political belonging and that of their fellows by electing suitable leaders; or, 2) As apathetic, irresponsible non-participants who do not contribute but who do enjoy the political largesse (in the sense that we have so many rights bestowed upon us in a democratic order) of our country without working for it.

But this is precisely the problem: the system of government that we continually reiterate by consenting to, and continually consent to by reiterating, is already a more profound form of government before we even get to its formal, procedural stages. And it resists radical transformation by prohibiting, through moral classification and exclusion, refusal of it as such. It obliges us to permit it or it abandons us outside the gates. And that is why we need to reflect, as Smith does, on general forms of government like that of the systemic links between voting, legitimacy, consent, and agency.

Smith offers an illustrative parallel in the same piece when he mentions that the specter of "the economy" has been unduly promoted as the ultimate determinant concerning any social or political question:

The same goes for the art debate, as candidates pound the "it's good for the economy" button. Often yes. Often not so much. Are we glad when things are good for this economy specifically? Art is, to paraphrase Somerset Maugham, an adventure of the soul; this economy is its antithesis. saying the arts are good for the economy elevates "the economy," not the arts — and hands Harper the excuse for cutting: programs "weren't effective," "didn't get results."

Some of the hardest working people I know are artists, and I've seen how funding is a direct boon to the city. I'm not against grants; I'm against participating in a machine that allows no system of value that hasn't first been converted to the devalued currency of marketing. Frankly, the whole thing feels hamfisted.


What Smith sees, and what more of us need to ask ourselves about, is the extent to which the question of culture's relationship to "the economy" is badly posed, because we fail to see the extent to which "the economy" itself has become our culture. I'm using culture here in the sense of "cultivation," a particular kind of formally directed growth or maintenance, because I see no sense left in the term other than that. Most generally, "culture" qua "culture" refers to nothing other than complexes of arrangements according to which people relate to themselves and others. In other words, "culture" itself needs to be analyzed as a kind of government. For us, the position of "the economy" needs to be questioned insofar as it is a kind of government, just like the general morality of electoral politics.

I'm afraid that I've formulated my thoughts poorly here. I'd like it if others would join in a shared reflection on these problems. But to sum up, everything that is linked to what I've called "the morality of voting" needs to be analyzed and called into question insofar as it is a kind of government that exceeds, but that also grounds, and that—perhaps paradoxically—also belongs to our contemporary parliamentary politics, as one of the latter's elements. If we take autonomy concerning the ways that we allow ourselves to be lead to be a virtue, then there is no reason, in principle, why we should stop at any particular variation and accept that one as the one that cannot be refused. And certainly, we do not need permission to refuse any form of government (and this is true of every form of government) that can't provide an incontrovertible support for its authority. If there is any such thing as a universal right, it's the right to dissent; that right is corollary to the impossibility of ultimately and irreversibly authorizing any set of norms and techniques for governing us. Maybe someday, instead of saying "If you don't vote, then you can't complain," people will say "if all you did was vote, then you can't complain."




The, old, new, uh, Right ... Left?

[Friday Oct. 10, 2008]

From Salon.com, Camille Paglia writes:

When I watch Sarah Palin, I don’t think sex — I think Amazon warrior! I admire her competitive spirit and her exuberant vitality, which borders on the supernormal. The question that keeps popping up for me is whether Palin, who was born in Idaho, could possibly be part Native American (as we know her husband is), which sometimes seems suggested by her strong facial contours. I have felt that same extraordinary energy and hyper-alertness billowing out from other women with Native American ancestry — including two overpowering celebrity icons with whom I have worked.

Leaving aside the reductive, touristy remarks about the "Native American" character, what in the world is Paglia's point here? She remarks that she'll vote for Obama, yet legitimates Sarah Palin purely at the optical level, and for a specific purpose: the re-invention of "pro-sex feminism." Paglia thinks that, initially, "Madonna put pro-sex feminism on the international map", but that movement has now extinguished itself in a glut of sexual spectacle, leaving feminism to rediscover "the ancient persona of the mother — without losing career ambition or power of assertion."

First of all, why does feminism need a figure or personification in order to work? And why, in this day and age, would Sarah Palin be that personification, as opposed to anyone who just refuses to let women be condescended to, objectified, or pinned to any particular "feminine" identity? But that's another issue; what really bothers me here is the degree to which optical strategies have their own kind of legitimacy for Paglia. There's no little connection between the image of Palin—a strategic deployment to which Paglia contributes—and the McCain campaign's other strategic optics of re-presenting Barack Obama as a shadowy bogeyman with terrorist leanings.

But this shouldn't be surprising; after all, Paglia is the same woman who maligned the French philosopher Michel Foucault by circulating a "friend of a friend" story—which remains uncorroborated, of course—that, upon finding out that he was infected the AIDS virus, Foucault set out to infect as many people as he could by picking them up in bars and having sex with them. So my question is, why is a picture enough? Rhetoric was, in Antiquity, a real discipline cultivated in those who ran the polis. Today, people are accused of "rhetoric" by others who don't like what they say; the concept is associated with dishonesty. But what happens when it is uncoupled from its political use and becomes a politics of its own; something to be affirmed in and of itself? What would we call the complete aestheticization of politics? And what are its dangers?




Minority + Minority = Majority!

[Thursday Oct. 9, 2008]

Could someone explain this one to me? Canadian Broadcasting Corporation National anchor Peter Mansbridge opened up his interview with Stephen Harper last night by saying “Joining us in the studio, the person who called this election, the person who’s asked you to give him a strong mandate to continue leading the nation, Stephen Harper.” Innocent enough, right? Maybe not, for those who missed this gem of an interview, Canadians got a vision of what we should likely expect following the election—more of the same petty partisanship, national political parties caught in an inexplicable pissing contest and a minority of half-brained conservative and neo-liberal fiscal policies being strong armed onto “the Canadian people.”

In a bizarre equation, when asked if he saw the return of the conservatives to minority status as a failure, Harper replied “I haven’t predicted a majority, I’ve simply said that (and I didn’t say that the last minority was dysfunctional I said we reached an impasse). In fact, as you know Peter, it was the longest sitting, in spite of our numerical weaknesses a government, the longest sitting minority in Canadian history...look it got a lot done but in the last four or five months we really saw it going down in terms of productivity. [a slight aside here but I should think that productivity in parliament was down, after all the house was out of session for the summer!]

He continued, “I think that history would indicate that when you get two minorities in a row, especially if it’s a minority for the same party, that that is a pretty strong mandate in and of itself. That’s a pretty severe warning to any of the opposition parties to not prematurely topple the government...” When pressed if a second minority was his idea of a strong mandate Harper replied, ”I think a second minority is stronger mandate than one minority.” WHAT!?

I know that Harper is a trained economist, and everyone knows that economists have a strange knack for taking things and turning them into weird unintelligible formulas, but this one takes the cake. Harper is essentially telling us that two minuses make a positive, that a second minority parliament—essentially the same parliament that we had before he called this election—creates the conditions in which no opposition party will want to call an election. But hang on; let’s do real math for a minute. The 2006 election broke down as such:

New Conservatives: 36.27%
Liberals: 30.23%
NDP: 17.48%
Bloc: 10.48%
Greens: 4.48%


The Latest polls have dashed most remaining hopes amongst conservatives that they would be able to attain a true majority. The latest Harris/Decim-Canadian Press poll has things panned out like so [polls are a fickle thing so take this with a grain of salt]:

New Conservatives: 31%
Liberals: 27%
NDP: 20%
Bloc: 8%
Greens: 12%


Polls change all the time and I actually agree with Harper when he says that he doesn’t like to comment on them because they change so quickly—that and I think most people would agree with me that polls are a reprehensible tool that can actually hurt democracy. However, the conservatives and conservative ideology in Canada do not consitute a majority position, nor should a snap election called by our PM (resulting in the same deadlocked uncompromising assembly) signal to anyone that Canadians have given anyone a mandate—and certainly not a Conservative one. Hell, I don’t even know that conservativism is a real consolidated position in Canada. Aside from not being the Liberals, even the Conservative party itself seems to have a hard time telling Canadians why it is different from the Liberals—save for some nefarious campaigning and information control tricks. Once you slough off the social conservativism that scared the living crap out off the vast majority of Canadians the Conservative Party, by Harpers own admission, seems to share in an across the board resurgence in fiscal conservativism that emphasizes balanced budgets and decreasing taxes. In fact, if anything, it looks like the Conservatives are becoming increasingly liberal with a list of government incentives that makes even the most fervent big-government liberal blush.

So does a second minority government for the Conservatives give Harper the “mandate” he wanted when he called this election? I guess that’s up to you.