Canadians, and this certainly includes Ontarians, desperately need more transparency from their governments. That certainly includes, but is not limited to, our elected officials. I and many others have written early and often about the horrific transparency gaps we have in this country, where governments — plural, as this is a widespread problem — have clearly and deliberately adopted a proactive policy of hiding as much information as possible and disclosing as little as they can get away with, when asked. This is not the first time I have written about this, and it will not be the last. It is a very, very serious problem.
Transparency is the first step in accountability. And a lot of our problems in this country, near as I can conclude, stem from broken accountability mechanisms. There is little fear of failure and misconduct, because they so rarely mean any real consequences. Consequences are unpleasant, so the people likely to face them have slowly but effectively neutered the mechanisms that would detect failures and then punish them.
It’s nicer that way, you know?
This is a complicated problem. When I say our accountability mechanisms are broken, I mean basically all of them — and that includes the ones we’d use to fix this problem, too. I am very pessimistic that we will see meaningful change on this, because all the people capable of driving that change are beneficiaries of the dysfunctional status quo. This is why politicians and parties promise major pro-transparency reforms when out of office but abandon the effort once elected. Transparency and accountability only benefit those without power. Once you have power, you stop liking the idea of anyone else being able to figure out what you did wrong and then punishing you for it.
But I did have a thought this week. A musing. Maybe one step toward a solution needs to be something that’ll sound counterintuitive. To get more transparency out of our politicians, we should hear from them less. We should see them less.
Again, this sounds counterintuitive. I’ll explain my thinking in a moment, but let me first give you the context. A few days ago, Ontario and Toronto officials, including provincial transportation minister Prabmeet Sarkaria and Mayor Olivia Chow, had a press conference to announce another milestone in the extension of the Eglinton Crosstown to the west. The announcement was that Ontario is now seeking qualified contractors to design the seven stations that will be included in the extension of the largely underground LRT line.
This wasn’t worth a press conference.
I’m sorry. It’s just not. Is it a milestone? Sure, in the sense that literally every single task accomplished in a long series of required tasks is a milestone. That sentence I just finished is a milestone in filing this column, as is this one; the one that follows is a milestone, too. Every press of the period key is its very own milestone! Announcing that we want people to bid on the design of the stations feels like treating the oven dinging because it’s preheated as a major milestone in the preparation of dinner. It’s true in a technical sense, but only that.
And this led me to conclude, for about the billionth time, that the purpose of the press conference was the press conference itself. It’s highly unlikely that either Chow or Sarkaria will still be in their current roles when Crosstown West opens. The benefits of the inaugural ride and the cake and the champagne in plastic flutes and all the rest of the pomp and circumstance will accrue to their successors. So the political imperative for the leaders of today is to make as many announcements as possible. Deliver talking points, stand behind lecterns with slogans on the front, maybe even put on a hardhat for the photographers. Clip for social media and press releases and then repeat a few months later, when, I dunno, we narrow the qualified bidders from four to three or some such.
By showing up and announcing the living crap out of stuff, the politicians get to look like they’re engaged and on top of things. That’s the benefit to them, and they have arranged things to make damn sure they get that benefit. The press conference is the point, and they’re successful every time.
But actually getting things built? Eh. It’s worth noting that, while the mayor and the minister were showing up to announce Crosstown West, the existing portion of the line — Crosstown Classic? — still isn’t open, and we still don’t know when it will be.
That’s a scandal. Heads should roll. I don’t blame the minister or the mayor for the debacle of the existing project, but we can’t overlook the fact that it is indeed an ongoing debacle. We aren’t talking about that, though, or not much — there were a few updates about the status of Crosstown Classic at the presser, but nothing exciting, because we’re already announcing incremental paperwork progress on the next project.
This is deliberate. Don’t talk about the current failures; talk about the future promises you won’t be around to actually oversee.
This is fictional transparency. Potemkin accountability. It looks like politicians being engaged and transparent, but it’s all just stage management.
And it’ll keep happening until we start demanding proactive transparency, in writing. Literally just post key metrics online. Give us a percentage for completion of all major infrastructure projects, with links to published status updates and announcements.
Cut the grandstanding officials out of the information loop. They add nothing at this point. It’s sad that we’re at this place, but we are. The fact is, the politicians and their comms handlers are too good at their jobs. They’ve perfected the little performances to the point where the press can only very rarely pry a meaningful answer or bit of useful info out of them. Spin has triumphed. Message control is complete.
I propose we accept this. We admit defeat. We start treating the pressers with the contempt they deserve and largely ignore them. And we insist the government keep us apprised of things by releasing data, publicly and in writing, and by responding to questions in writing. Press conferences should still happen, but they should happen on a regular schedule and be open to questions on anything and everything. The real data should be released proactively to the public, which owns it all in the first place. Or at least, we should.
This isn’t a perfect solution, but it’s about the only one I can come up with that might begin to arrest the continued backsliding in accountability. And that is something that simply must happen if we are to continue functioning properly as a democracy. Assuming it’s not too late, and we haven’t been spun and message-controlled into oblivion already.