A WORD, first,
on the format. On balance, it's a clear improvement. Having viewers ask the questions is a breath of fresh air, although perhaps we should include some journalists in the mix: these things work best when there's a balance of populism and elitism, where the politicians have to answer both the questions that
are on voters' minds and the questions that
ought to be. (The latter role was ably filled by moderator Trina McQueen: it was a pleasure watching the leaders trying to grapple with the broad questions of philosophy she threw at them -- "should the tax system be used to influence all sorts of behaviour, or it is just there to raise revenues" was the question of the night, even if all the leaders gave the wrong answer.)
And while it would be nice to have more one-on-one exchanges between the leaders, there can be no going back to the free-for-alls of the past. As noted in a previous post, when you have four leaders the mathematics are against you: To get every possible comination of two leaders, you'd have to have six different sessions on each topic. Mind you, who says these things have to be divided by topic? Maybe we should just divide each debate into six one-on-ones, 20 minutes each, and let
them propose the topics they'd like to discuss with each other. So, for example, Martin v Harper might feature discussions of the Charter of Rights (Martin) and daycare (Harper), while Harper v Layton might talk about ethics in government (Harper - they could take turns lambasting the Liberals) and Kyoto (Layton - just so people didn't think they were too cozy). Might be worth trying in one debate, at any rate. (Of course, if they ever let the Greens in, as they should, then the number of combinations jumps to 10.
My half-serious suggestion of a "knockout" round looks better and better.)
THE MEDIA'S interests in this could be divined from this post-debate headine: "
Second debate sparks a better brawl." But what, really, is the purpose of these debates? We're not trying to find the best high-school debator in the country, or the loudest heckler. We're hiring a Prime Minister. The debates should properly be thought of as job interviews: we're interested in where each man would take the country, but we're also interested in who they are. Everybody always complains about the "lack of specifics" after these things, but a job interview doesn't get too far into specifics either. Mostly, the questions are designed to see if the applicant can think on his feet, for what this might reveal of his temperament and ability. I might add that all four were quite impressive in this regard, even if it isn't fashionable to say it.
OVERALL, I'D have said it was
a bad night for Martin -- Layton and Duceppe beat him up all night long -- until that last exchange ("you're not going to take my country away from me") with Duceppe, which predictably showed up in all the post-debate clips. Yet not as many, or with as much emphasis, as I expected. Were it almost any other leader, it would have been a home run. Even allowing for the stage-acting that is required of all politicians, there are some people you can imagine saying that and meaning it. If it's too much to imagine it boiling out of them spontaneously -- that only happens in Capra movies -- you can at least imagine them using it to telegraph something fundamental about themselves.
With Martin, it's just the stance of the day. As several commentators have noted, he didn't make anything like the same declaration in the French debate the previous night -- though neither did any of the other leaders, to be fair. More to the point, it doesn't resonate with anything he's ever said or done in public life. This is the guy who hid for a week when the Clarity Act was introduced, who dumped Stephane Dion from cabinet, who appointed
Jean Lapierre as his Quebec lieutenant, and -- lest we forget -- who allowed his supporters in the 1990 Liberal leadership race to chant
"vendu" at Jean Chretien for the crime of criticizing the Meech Lake Accord.
But now he's Captain Canada?
Donnez-moi un break .
AS FOR the others, I thought both Harper and Layton had good nights, for opposite reasons.
Harper was calm, presentable, a bit professorial, which has the virtue of being close to who he is. The media really have to choose: either he's "angry" or he "lacks passion," but not both. In fact, I don't think much of the public every really bought the "angry" meme: that was a bit of Liberal spin dreamt up over a weekend and injected into the media bloodstream via the Globe and Mail. Rather, I think much of the public don't quite know what to make of him. Most of them have barely seen him speak for more than a few seconds at a time, so this was really his first (or second, counting last year's debate) chance to observe him up close.
In this regard, the format served him well -- particularly letting voters ask the questions. This changed the whole dynamic of the debate, in ways I'm not sure everyone understood. So long as it's the same old gang of political junkies -- politicians and media -- I think the public tends to score the participants much as the media does: by how well they play the game, who scores "points" off whom, etc.
But once the public is let into the arena, there's much less tolerance for that sort of stuff. Then the issue becomes: who answered my questions the best? Who was concerned with my issues? Who levelled with me? Make no mistake: those questioners weren't just representing themselves. They were our ambassadors to the political class. And we didn't want to see them trifled with. So, for example, Martin's little sortie about Harper's leadership contributors, which might have played well in past debates, seemed out of place here.
(The nearest comparison I can make is with the Charlottetown referendum. The Yes side had all the money, and commissioned some slick, well-produced ads. Remember the baseball player? And in a normal election campaign -- which the public sees as more or less a professional wrestling match, with about as much reality -- they might have worked. But in a referendum, the issue is not Yes vs No, it's voters vs the question: at least, it was in that campaign. Voters weren't so much divided, as united in the common challenge they all faced, like golfers against the course, trying their damnedest to figure out what was best for the country. The last thing they needed was some slick, manipulative ad messing with their emotions. That's all very well in an election. But this was important.
Once it clicks in that "Jesus, I actually have to decide this," voters get serious in a hurry. So the Yes ads' very slickness worked against them. The single most effective ad in the whole campaign was a still-photo of "Brian's Garage," with some tinny voice over top asking whether we'd buy a used car from this man. In terms of production values, it was somewhere south of the cable access station. But by the end of the campaign, the Yes side were beseeching their high-priced talent to come up with ads that were as tinny and amateurish.)
Anyway, I thought Harper did a very good job of answering viewers' questions, in a way that was respectful without being pandering. (Exception: asked what they thought Canada's greatest strength was, both Martin and Harper unhesitatingly said "our people," as if we were somehow more blessed in that department than every other country on earth.) I was particularly taken with his answers to the viewers who wanted tighter rules on politicians crossing the floor and -- in what seems to be top of many people's minds -- breaking their promises. He didn't give answers they, or I, would agree with, but his reasons were thoughtful and persuasive.
In sum, I think he did himself some good, as I expect the polls will show. (UPDATE: Or
maybe not. On the other hand,
Global TV has Ipsos numbers that tell a very different story. So does
Leger. UPPERDATE: On the
other other hand,
Decima sides with the Strategic Counsel: Clear win for Martin. So that's two pollsters on either side. Go figure.)
As for
Layton, he was a terrier, and a salesman, and oddly it all worked. As a salesman, he was franker than most, inasmuch as he acknowledged he was a salesman: he asked viewers directly for their votes, more than once. Voters like that sort of humility. And while his ferocious ankle-biting on Martin might have put off some viewers -- it did get a little repetitive -- the exception are those voters he most needs to reach: NDP voters who had strayed into the Liberal camp in the first weeks of the campaign. It may be that Layton's attempts to portray himself as a moderate backfired: it was too soon, before he'd nailed down his base. So he needed to show some fire in the belly on traditional NDP issues: hence the endless references to "tax cuts for Mr. Martin's corporate friends." And he needed to poke holes in Martin's left-leaning pose: hence the baseball-bat over Kyoto ("It's hypocrisy!").
(Actually, Layton got several good digs in on Martin. "He's been breaking promises for so long he doesn't even recognize it any more." "Rewarding the Liberals for what they've done [in the sponsorship scandal] will send the message that Quebec is not respected." Harper could just sit back and let Layton work him over.)
And
Duceppe? He was there. But should he have been? Do I really need to hear what he would do "as Prime Minister" about Western alienation? Or anything else? Still, I enjoyed his invocation of "the British Parliamentary system," almost as much as his declaration that the issue of gay marriage could not be revisited, since
we'd already voted on it once. And he keeps asking a question I for one would like to see somebody answer: Who got the dirty money?
TALKING OF unanswered questions: I do wish somebody would ask the leaders about
productivity, and our declining relative standard of living. If I were Harper, I'd be talking a lot about
Ireland, both in the negative -- we're now poorer than the Irish -- and the positive: If they can turn things around, so can we.