Columnists
From 24 million to one
Justin Trudeau couldn’t bring himself to admit the obvious. He got blinded by the bright light of his celebrity pick for Governor General. and failed to do his due diligence. The buck didn’t just stop with him; it was on his desk the whole time and never got passed around.
If Mr. Trudeau is determined to play his cards close to his chest and subject candidates to his his own personal vetting process, I have a suggestion for him. Choose the one person whose life history you know intimately. Choose an actor who can turn on the charm and sincerity at will. Chose a person who has already been at his present job for more than five exhausting and eventful years, and whose would-be successors are already pawing at the ground. Choose a fluently bilingual urbanist. Choose yourself. We’ll forgive you the insider pick just this once.
But choosing himself would close the door to a completely different way of choosing our Governor General. Look at the qualities that are required to do the job. Those entail being an extrovert and liking to meet new people; being quick on the uptake and sensitive to other people’s needs; being prepared to dress up and do ceremonial stuff; having good judgment, keeping a cool head in a crisis, and being nice to the people who work for you.
By my crude reckoning, about half our population of 24 million adult Canadians would fit those criteria. So why exclude most of that 12 million member group from consideration? Why leave it to the political elite to choose one of their number? Why not choose an ordinary Canadian instead? And why not let ordinary Canadians choose that ordinary Canadian?
How would you do that? You would create a reality show, running over a number of weeks in prime time, called something like Who wants to be Governor- General? and sell the rights to the show to CTV or YouTube, who could then sell advertising spots to purveyors of bathroom tissue and cold remedies.
Admittedly, you would have to bring the numbers down from 12 million to a manageable two dozen or so contestants. But half of them would never abide the requirement to live in Ottawa. I remember encountering Ray Hnatyshyn sitting in an open landau on a frigid December evening as he waited for his cue to turn on the Christmas lights on Parliament Hill. His grumble about the extreme requirements of the job still ring loud in my ears. And you would require each applicant to submit a resume, two letters of reference and a video clip demonstrating his or her conviviality. That requirement ought to cut the numbers in half again, so we get down to a more manageable pool of three million applicants. And you cut another million or who stopped to consider that they wouldn’t want to live in a fishbowl no matter how spacious the premises and cheap the rent.
A team of tax auditors from the Canada Revenue Agency ought to be able to go through the remaining pile and reduce it to the two dozen most promising in less than a month. It would be a great boost for the CRA’s public profile. A modicum of regional, ethnic, age, gender and income balance could be brought into the selection process, so as to allow Canadians a chance to vote for a person from an underrepresented constituency.
Our two dozen finalists would then be subject to a friendly skills competition. It would have the same entertainment value as the Great British Baking Show or American Idol, but Instead of being judged on their prowess at sponge cake making or singing, contestants would be judged on a basket of social skills, like knowing where Montenegro is; holding a glass of wine in one hand with a plate of tiny sandwiches in the other and trying to find a third hand free to shake hands; keeping a straight face while reading throne speeches; selecting the correct fish knife from an endless array of cutlery at a state dinner; curtseying to the Queen; inspecting troops without inadvertently getting a bayonet in the eye; pinning medals on people’s chests without bringing about a sexual harassment lawsuit; and delivering inspiring impromptu speeches that don’t touch on controversial topics—in both official languages.
Two people could be eliminated every show until there were four contestants left in a winner-take-all finale, the winner chosen by the audience at home. In the final show, the winner would be crowned Governor General. To show there were no hard feelings along way, the 23 losing contestants and their families would be invited to the coronation ceremony.
To give the show some gravitas, Lisa LaFlamme could be pulled from her gig as the CTV national news anchor and given the job of emcee. Celebrity judges such as Anne Murray, Don Cherry and a guest infectious disease specialist of the week would round out the team.
The process I suggest does carry some risk that the winning Governor General candidate will be unconventional, in the same way that Donald Trump was an unconventional choice for US president. But to win the contest, you would have to win the confidence of the judges and the Canadian public over an extended period. I have every faith in the ability of Canadians to pick soundly—more faith than I have in our Prime Minister, even to pick himself.
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