Filibuster CartoonsTitle: Canada's year of the woman (click to view)
Date: October 5, 2011
The drawn-out process of picking a successor to outgoing Alberta premier Ed Stelmach concluded this weekend, with former cabinet minister Alison Redford emerging victorious in her campaign to lead the province’s Conservative government. As the cartoon notes, her ascension triggered a historic milestone of sorts. Canada has never before had three women running three provinces, all at the same time.
But then again, we never even had
two women in charge simultaneously until earlier this year. Kathy Dunderdale became head of the Newfoundland Conservative Party — and thus premier — back in December of 2010, and was quickly followed by Christy Clark in British Columbia, who inherited the leadership of her province’s ruling Liberal regime three months later. Though Clark was B.C.'s second female chief executive, neither Newfoundland nor Alberta has ever been under female-rule before.
In the entire history of Canada, in fact, there have only been five female provincial premiers in all — and that
includes the three who currently hold office. Assuming each of Canada's ten provinces have had about 20 premiers each, that's a success rate somewhere in the ballpark of 0.2% for a gender that comprises at least half the Canadian population. And only
once in Canadian history has a woman been explicitly
elected as premier, as opposed to simply appointed to office by the ruling party following the resignation of a predecessor: Catherine Callbeck of Prince Edward Island, 1993-1996.
Why Canada lags far behind most other major industrialized democracies in trusting women with it’s most senior offices of government is a phenomenon that’s difficult to explain, since it seems to contradict so much of what we like to think about ourselves. Canada is, after all, an enormously tolerant and progressive country. Women have equal rights under the Charter and have achieved all manner of success in the world of arts, literature, sports, and business amid widespread admiration and support from both genders. What, then, makes politics the lone hold out?
The answer may lie in our political system itself. Unlike many other democracies, Canada has precious few directly-elected offices. Our senators are appointed, and the men and women who assume leadership of our political parties face no public primary, only an internal appointment process that rarely entails more than a few thousand voters. The victors of this process, in turn, are usually longtime politicos with lengthy careers in the legislative branch, first as backbenchers, then ministers, followed by a long, amorphous period as a “possible leadership contender” as they wait for the incumbent to shuffle off.
Whenever I ask female politicians about this, they almost invariably express great deal of distaste for the sheer time investment demanded by such a career. Though it may sound like a trite gender cliché, many women would simply prefer to spend some of these years with their children and families, rather than slowly climb the endless ladder of legislative politicking. (It’s worth noting, in this regard, that Canada’s only female prime minister, Kim Campbell, was both unmarried and childless when she assumed office).
If Canada had more directly-elected offices, as is the case in the United States, with its elected senators and governors, it seems entirely possible we’d see more females in power than we do at present. Canadians, after all, have elected female mayors to most of our major cities, and the nature of direct election means that women can jump in and out of politics on their own schedule, wasting less time on a lengthy legislative career that may ultimately lead nowhere.
Likewise, under the present system, the “old boys club” can still hold disproportionate sway. Latent sexism is not unknown within Canada’s halls of power — even if not shared by the general public.
Attending this spring’s convention of the British Columbia Liberal Party, I was surprised at the amount of bitter venom expressed by party insiders towards Christy Clark, who was by far the preferred choice of the B.C. public. Clark, they said, was far too left-wing, shrill, and immature for the premier’s job; much better to go with one of her male rivals. And that would be a fair enough criticism if any those adjectives were accurate, but Clark seemed every bit as moderate and serious as her competitors; her supposed flaws seemed to be a distasteful mix of corny stereotypes and chauvinistic presumptions. Though I guess if you're not used to seeing a woman running a province the entire premise
can come off as a bit implausible.
In any case, it looks like at least two of Canada's provinces are going to remain managed by women for at least a little longer. In Alberta and Newfoundland both major opposition parties are led by women too, meaning even if premiers Redford or Dunderdale were to lose their next provincial elections, a woman would still hold their office. (This was, interestingly, also the case for Premier Callbeck above, who similarly won a woman-versus-woman election). So perhaps the weirdness factor is finally breaking down.
I'm not the sort of person who thinks women leaders are good for their own sake, or represent sort of automatic improvement over the status quo. Indeed, if international precedence is any indication, when it comes to policy, they seem to run things a lot like men — for good or ill. But it's also clear that any political system that excludes a massive chunk of the population from infiltrating its top tier of power probably has some pretty significant democratic flaws in its overall design. And that's something that should bother Canadians of all genders.
