Ed Who?

Friday jun 5th, 2009 9:46: on the train to Toronto

Week two of convocation is over, and it has been an interesting one. Last weekend I enjoyed seeing the dress rehearsal and the opening performance of Die Zauberflöte, and got a chance to work my audition material with Bruce, and to visit a bit with the cast, and with Timothy Vernon, the conductor, who gave me some very appreciated advice and encouragement. We also got a chance to go see Up!, the new Pixar/Disney film (which is really very charming and beautiful). The opera is really wonderful, decorated in a Viennese Jugendstil / Art Nouveau sensibility, and musically quite exciting.

Then it was back to Belleville/Kingston. I've spent some time in Belleville this week visiting with my parents, and even got in nine holes of golf with my dad. I went to see Maggie's parents at the cottage as well, and stayed over that evening. Right now I'm on my way from Belleville to Toronto to do some more coaching. Tomorrow evening the extended family will gather to celebrate my parents' 40th wedding anniversary, and then I head back east on Sunday to get ready for the home stretch before leaving next Saturday to return home to my very much missed family in Brussels. Nine ceremonies down, and ten to go...

Many of my friends, family and colleagues have asked politely if sitting through those convocations isn't a strange form of torture. I concede that I've grown very familiar with some of the fixed parts of the ceremony; for example, I think I could probably deliver the principal's address myself, from memory. Nevertheless, the feeling in the room is energizing, and of a different character for each ceremony, depending on which department or faculty is graduating. The officiating members of the faculty are different each time, and their excitement is as palpable as that of the graduating students and their families.

More importantly, the speeches given by the deans, guest lecturers and honorary doctorate recipients are wonderful to hear. So far, I've listened to the perspectives of a multimillionaire venture capitalist, a Canadian astro- and aqua-naut, a nurse who has written over twenty books and builds libraries in Ghana, and a decorated veteran of the Normandy invasion who owns and operates a multi-city housing company, to name but a few.

The biggest treat so far came on tuesday, when Canadian statesman and former federal NDP leader Ed Broadbent was invited to address a class of engineers. I've always admired Ed, a real gentleman, and his speech to the graduates didn't disappoint.

In fact, I liked it so much that I'll sign off this entry with the text of his speech...

Queen’s University Convocation Address
Ed Broadbent
June 2, 2009

To accept an earned degree makes sense. After all, it requires diligence over a number of years of studying, doing research, and writing exams. To accept an honourary degree appears more problematic. It’s rather like one of those movie directors whose work is a vague and distant memory—and who then turn up in Hollywood to accept an Oscar for a lifetime achievement award. It is, of course, personally quite gratifying: standing before a large, polite, and captive audience—and then hearing nothing but good things said about you. For a former politician that’s unique. It’s rather like having your obituary written by your mother.

Of course the real reason for accepting an honourary degree from Queen’s University is that it is a great honour. Queen’s is one of Canada’s outstanding universities, known at home and abroad for producing leaders in almost every field of intellectual endeavour. I repeat, for me this is a great honour for which I am most appreciative. I first came to Queen’s nine years ago as a Skelton-Clarke Fellow, and I have continued each year since to teach a course in the political studies department. And now, I have had the happy experience of receiving a degree in the same week as some of my students. It’s with a great deal of pleasure that I speak to you now not as specialists in your field but as democratic citizens.

Almost exactly fifty years ago I graduated from university. For all of us in the class of 59 that June day in Toronto was sunny in every respect. We were happy not simply because of the supportive presence of family and friends but because we knew in our bones that the days ahead held great promise. Thanks to the work of our parents’ generation, our formative years had taken place in Canada’s most bountiful period. Not only had Canada achieved continuing economic growth since WWII, but much more significantly, a new notion of citizenship and the role of governments had begun to emerge. Following the great depression, governments in the post-war years had come to the realization that if markets were left to their own devices inequality would grow, economic instability would be inevitable, and yet another economic crash was bound to happen.

Instead of seeing Canadians simply as people pursuing their own well-being as individuals, government policy was based on the realization that we are also members of communities, that our social nature, with its sharing and cooperative elements is just as important to a satisfactory life as is the pursuit of personal self-interest. Indeed, when it comes to citizenship, whether or not we feel connected to others, whether we value only ourselves or care for our neighbours, our positive rootedness in our social context is what matters most.

My generation added to the foundation we inherited. Canada’s governments joined with other advanced democracies in building nations that took seriously the democratic goal of equality. By the 1980s Canada had transformed itself. Through progressive taxation, unemployment insurance, medicare, universal pensions, affordable universities, the rights of First Nation Canadians, women, gays, and ethnic minorities, we were becoming what we never were before, a sharing and caring nation, where increasing equality was the name of the game.

As I said, in 1959, mid-way through this transformation, I could feel in my bones this unfolding. As a working class kid from Oshawa, I believed that the world was my oyster. I could indeed develop my skills and talents. I could make my individual choices. However, I came to understand that virtually all of my years of education in Canada and in England were financed by taxes paid by others. The increasing sense of dignity and confidence among Canadians I could feel came not just from economic growth but also from strong social programmes based on equality. For millions of Canadians, our flourishing sense of self was the by-product of social circumstances in which a positive role for government had become the norm.

Your world, however, has been quite different. You are graduating not in the golden age of the long postwar boom, when capitalism was balanced with strong social programmes, but in a moment of economic crisis. Your moment in history is the culmination of what has been happening for the past three decades, when an ideology very different from the one I grew up with has been at work. Instead of seeing our identities as individuals thoroughly embedded in society, with all our individual rights and responsibilities linked inevitably to the lives of others, Canadians have been encouraged to adopt a contrary view, to follow a personal agenda of individualistic materialism. This radical denial of the social aspects of our nature emerged in the Anglo-American countries in the 1980s and soon held sway over much but not all of the world. Its advocates in the media and politics shaped our national and international institutions to reflect their narrow economic priorities. Interventions by the state were certainly welcome if they helped to increase profits and the spread of markets, but government was no longer seen to be an essential component of finding solutions for a civilized life for the majority. Rather, government was portrayed as the source of our problems. Instead of seeing our selves and thus our self-interest as being in part realized in sharing with others, self-interest was simplified and reduced to mean personal gratification. Cooperation was ignored or worse, dismissed as utopian. Greed was almost converted into a civic virtue. Thus, over time, the environment was brutalized and the rich got richer.

Then, last year, this all came crashing down. I need not bore you with many details, most of which you know. But I will emphasize a few. Inequality in Canada and the United States is the worst it’s been since the 1920s. Millions globally are unemployed and child poverty in Vancouver, Toronto and Montreal is just as bad as it was 20 years ago when Parliament voted to take steps to abolish it. Our production of greenhouse gasses and the devouring of our resources continues as if we didn’t know the fatal consequences for our planet.

My purpose is not to discourage but to challenge. Do not be intimidated. You do have more challenges than my generation. But what has been done can be undone. Change for the better is possible. You live in a marvelous country, with strong democratic traditions. Do not be intimidated. Look at those beside you and remember you are among the fortunate highly educated few. I urge you to take up the challenges. Pursue not just personal success but also the common good. See your neighbours not as competitors but as allies. Regard your government as your instrument, not you enemy. Be inspired by great successes. And when you celebrate later today, remember you are where you are not just because of your own ability but also because of the support of family, friends, and fellow-citizens. Go forward. Be brave. And make a better world.