This Mike Duffy affair is being blown all out of proportion as, some might be tempted to observe, the senator himself appears to have been.
The snow is yet to fly in Ottawa, yet he looms over Parliament Hill like Michelin Man, twisting in the wind. Many commentators seem to think that he’s a harbinger of a nasty Conservative winter to come.
I hope that they’re wrong. I hope that sooner rather than later more pressing public business can be attended to by parliamentarians — both those elected and those “elevated.”
It’s absurd that the House of Commons should be transfixed by tawdry goings-on in what MPs refer to contemptuously as “another place.”
The public purse is abused far more by military acquisitions that don’t work, are never used or are cancelled and subsequently reinstated, than it is by a handful of senators abusing, or misunderstanding, their entitlements.
The “scandals” involving three or four senators is not one involving political kickbacks, organized crime or corruption in government.
Duffy’s “revelations” last week in the red chamber weren’t quite of “bombshell” quality as some in the news media proclaimed — except to any of them who’d been asleep when, in May, it was revealed that Prime Minister Stephen Harper’s chief of staff cut Duffy a $90,000 cheque to cover expense claims that were deemed inappropriate.
Duffy proclaims that they were within the rules of that arcane place, and claims that he was assured they were by party factotums until they turned upon him in partisan embarrassment.
Some things common sense tells us: A “primary” residence should be a primary residence. Expenses can’t be incurred in places where the claimant was not, at the time. And, in the case of Duffy’s colleague Pam Wallin, “stopovers” in Toronto, where auditors found she spent 35 per cent of her time, compared to 22 per cent in Ottawa and 27 per cent Saskatchewan, her home province, should be called something else.
Perhaps, having claimed travel expenses of half a million dollars over 45 months, the lady was in the air for the rest of the time.
I’ve said before that it’s interesting that members of the news media are having such fun over the fate of former prominent members of their craft brought low.
I squirmed when I saw the CBC’s Peter Mansbridge in his smarmy way telling us last week how Duffy always “told a good story.” I’m amazed that Duffy was the object of an article last month in Maclean’s magazine of a depth usually reserved for the drug-induced death of entertainers. It was full of unsubstantiated gossip by “journalists” who’d never climbed as far or gone on to higher things. It read like a prebituary.
I don’t think my old pal Mike is upset by the furies surrounding him — or particularly humbled. I know that there’s mirth in that girth.
I’ve seen, too, his vindictiveness toward obfuscating politicians and inept reporters. When, once, I wrote about Duffy’s abusing his free parking privileges on the Hill, he called me a two-bit hack. He was right.
And that brings me to the centre of this affair. MPs, when first elected, or senators when first called, have to learn what they’re entitled to and how far they can go. Those who’ve graduated from the news game need no lessons: They’re used to pushing boundaries poorly marked.
It’s a long time since I’ve seen Duffy brandish a credit card and offer to pick up the tab. We both knew how to claim “expenses” and that “entertaining sources” didn’t always mean that it was only the sources who were being entertained.
Shouldn’t we be asking, now, why MPs meals and massages are subsidized by taxpayers, why their fresh-faced assistants are shopping for their spouses, and why every new minister requires a redecorated office?
Shouldn’t we be asking why senators should shun partisan activities and embrace impartiality? The Senate must be a political chamber, or what’s its use?
Duffy’s employers always got good value from his activities without overtime. So did the party that put him in the Senate and seeks, now, vindictively, to bury him.
