Earlier this fall, a friend returned from several months
overseas to find that Ontario politics had taken an unexpected turn in
his absence. It wasn't John Tory's election as Conservative leader that
caught him off guard, nor George Smitherman's battle with hospital
executives - it was that pit bulls had become the biggest issue in the
province.
His confusion was understandable. In 2003, Dalton McGuinty's Liberals
were elected on lofty promises to protect Ontarians from soaring
deficits, school strife and declining health care; a year later, their
biggest concern seemed to be defending us from a few vicious canines.
Even if his critics might suggest Mr. McGuinty would now have a hard
time getting elected dog-catcher, it was an odd turn of events.
There are a couple of easy explanations for how the proposed pit bull
ban skyrocketed up the government's agenda. For one thing, there was
genuine demand from the public - or a significant segment of it - for
a tough-minded response to a spate of attacks over the summer. And the
issue is being driven by an ambitious Attorney-General, Michael Bryant,
whose relatively quiet first year on the job probably left him hungry
for a few more headlines.
But there's something else at play here, too. Facing the potentially
lethal combination of high expectations and empty coffers, the Liberals
are desperate for ways to prove themselves activists without spending
much cash. And what links this policy to several of their other recent
ones is that it gives them maximum bang for their buck.
Pit bull bans. Anti-smoking campaigns. Crackdowns on high school
dropouts. Junk food prohibition. Not one will cause Finance Minister
Greg Sorbara much grief as he tries to balance the books. But each has
received ample coverage in recent weeks, because they're the sorts of
hot-button issues that spawn debate.
Perhaps it's giving the Liberals too much credit to assume this is all
by design -- and there's no way of knowing for sure, since they'd be
loath to admit it. But after a disastrous start in government, there has
been a noticeable shift in their priorities and messaging.
For most of their first year in office, the Liberals either had no
inclination or no idea how to stem a tide of criticism. Delivering one
piece of bad news after another - from a soaring deficit to health care
premiums to their inability to follow up on costly campaign promises -
they seemed perplexed when their critics piled on, past allies turned on
them, and their polling numbers dipped. Before long, both the
rank-and-file and a contingent of senior Queen's Park types were
grumbling about the lack of any coherent strategy.
Now, it's almost as though the Liberals have dug up a copy of last
year's election platform and highlighted every populist promise that can
be implemented at minimal cost. It all makes for a libertarian's
nightmare, since most of those policies are interventionist attempts to
control public behaviour. But since each has a decent degree of public
support, it's much better for the Liberals if we're talking about them
than about the array of spending promises they've been forced to abandon
or postpone.
Where this strategy takes us is another question entirely. Of the
various hot-button policies put out lately, the pit bull ban is the only
one the Liberals didn't campaign on last year. But with the exception of
electoral reform, which will span several years, they'll soon have
exhausted every low-cost, high-impact promise in their platform. So if
they want to keep on the same path, they'll have to start improvising.
For all we know, they could choose to go in an entirely different
direction - privatizing TVOntario or the LCBO, for instance, or
increase school choice. But their priorities to date suggest further
regulations to regulate consumer choices, make our streets safer, and so
on.
Some would call that responsible, proactive government. Others would
call it nannyism. But the Liberals might just call it a way to make
Ontarians forget they can't afford to do much else.