[dropcap]I[/dropcap]n all honesty, I don’t enjoy Canadian politics. Though, I find it bearable enough to be fascinating. Perhaps this is why I’m currently trudging through a minor in political science — I’m fascinated by how much I dislike it but how unavoidable it is in my life, by how complex and shifting it is. I’m particularly interested in how different our politics are from America’s.
For some time now, I’ve toted Canadian politics as being the “politics that America should have.” The fact that we’re still a country with a young history and a small population supports the notions that our politics are far more progressive, practical, and less of an excuse for entertainment than that of the big boy downstairs. Canadian politicians are seen as politicians. Sure, Trudeau may be the closest thing we’ve had to a celebrity politician, but ultimately he’s recognized primarily for the political role he’s in. This is the way politics needs to be in order for it to work.
But when I booted up the Macbook Pro a few weeks ago, and scrolled through heart-sinking headlines that told me Canadian television celebrity Kevin O’Leary is considering throwing his investor’s hat in for Conservative party leader, that’s when it became clear that our politics have begun to take a turn for the worst.
To be clear, I hate American politics — if you could even call them that. The United States runs rife on an overanalyzed entertainment gongshow it proudly labels “democracy.” Sure, some politicians may be true to their aims, but as much of the American public seems hungry for Fox to manhandle them with useless information, I think it’s safe to say that “democracy” is a bit of a crapshoot term shaken frantically down a frayed pant-leg on our southern hillbilly. Mix distorted media with a clueless fascist like Donald Trump, and I don’t even know where to start on what a sad disaster US politics is.
He’s a carefully sculpted character created to swipe up good ratings for reality television.
I dislike Canadian politics in a different way — mainly because it’s far more real. And real politics comes with a different (though necessary) baggage than the entertainment kind. Enter O’Leary, stage right. The investor and TV personality is known for his abrasive and often outrageous behaviour on popular programs such as Dragon’s Den and Shark Tank. And as a TV persona, he’s fake. He’s a carefully sculpted character created to swipe up good ratings for reality TV. He’s known for tirelessly playing devil’s advocate against so many perspectives that would seem like practical no-brainers. And sadly, he’s known for his exorbitant wealth.
Similarly, Donald Trump is a television celeb with the same caricatures. And from what we’ve seen, these aspects are swiftly gaining mindless American support by firmly declaring that Mexican immigrants be forced out with an expensive wall, and that all Muslims be banned entirely. In other words, he’s taking his made-for-TV persona and moronically persuading what should be a sacred aspect of life.
O’Leary has unfortunately begun to dabble his toes in a similar fashion by bribing Albertan oil patches with one million dollars from his own wallet if the province’s current NDP Premier Rachel Notley steps down from her position. Sure! It’s great for ratings, but does it have a place in true politics? Take a wild guess.
The sad truth is that the public can be mindless and TV celebs are influential, their pockets run deep, and apart from needlessly bloating our political climate, they probably have no clear idea the everyday challenges to middle and lower class citizens. So please, O’Leary, apart from actually learning a bit of French, don’t terrify us as your flashy shark fins tauntingly break the surface of the real world.
Stick to the bottom of your tank.
