What explains the extraordinary sense of entitlement that seems to have taken root in Canada’s political establishment?
The dictionary defines entitlement as an expectation of privileges and special treatment. Judging by contemporary events, there’s a lot of it around.
Let’s set the Senate aside. We know the answer there. That is what happens when you confer unaccountable power on an unelected elite, essentially for life.
But the expectation of special treatment is more difficult to explain among elected officials. Indeed, it defies our entire notion of government, which is founded on a commitment to public service, not personal privilege. Yet still it goes on.
Two recent examples: Prime Minister Justin Trudeau is being investigated by the federal ethics commissioner for a holiday he and his family took over the Christmas period.
It appears Trudeau, along with his wife and children, stayed as guests at a private island in the Bahamas. The island is owned by the Aga Khan, a billionaire spiritual leader.
Trudeau was joined on the junket by a Liberal MP and his spouse, and the Liberal party president and her husband. In addition to accepting free hospitality, the group travelled to the island in a private helicopter.
The Aga Khan’s foundation has received $300 million in federal grants. When leading figures in our governing party accept such gifts, there is at least the appearance of a quid pro quo.
Trudeau, however, insists he isn’t concerned, and in one sense it’s easy to see why. The worst punishment he faces is a snippy letter from the commissioner.
This is how our House of Commons treats three of the deadly sins — greed, gluttony and pride: with a slap on the wrist. The remaining four aren’t even subject to discipline, and the reason is obvious.
Try investigating federal politicians on charges of lust, sloth, wrath or envy, and you would empty both houses of Parliament.
Then we have Brian Pallister, the newly elected premier of Manitoba. This tribune of the people is no sooner in office than he announces he intends to take up to two months vacation in Costa Rica each year.
His explanation? “I don’t mean to sound like I’m petulant … but I do work a lot of nights. I do work a lot of weekends and so I don’t see my children.”
I’ll bet that goes over well with low-income parents who also work late, who don’t cart home an annual salary of $160,000 plus expenses and who can’t take time off when it suits them.
Can you imagine an employee at Walmart going to her boss and asking for eight weeks of vacation because she’s not seeing enough of her children?
Faced with this mind-boggling sense of entitlement, it’s no good asking if our elected leaders have no shame. We already know the answer: No.
But Winnipeg is a city long in decline. The province has some of the worst poverty rates in the country.
How could Pallister look voters in the eye and lay this hogwash on them? Answer: Because he evidently thinks he deserves special treatment.
And this is the real source of entitlement behaviour — the illusion of status. Or in simple language, thinking too much of yourself.
I’m sure it never occurred to Trudeau or Pallister that anyone would find fault with their behaviour. They thought they were just taking what was owed on account of the positions they hold.
Yet neither of these men has spent even half a term in office and already the rot has set in. The solution, of course, lies with us.
If voters stand for such displays of arrogance, we have no one to blame but ourselves.
Time, I think, to make our displeasure known.
