The temptation of BMO
If Justin Trudeau stays, who'll stay with him?
What kind of week do you suppose Scott Brison had last week? How’s John Baird doing? Do you figure Navdeep Bains is able to enjoy quality time with his kids these days?
Since these are intended to be rhetorical questions, I haven’t put the question to the gentlemen in question, or to Jane Philpott, Lisa Raitt, Marc Garneau or other former senior cabinet ministers from Liberal and Conservative governments. But I’ll tell you who’s probably got questions like this on their mind: the current members of Justin Trudeau’s cabinet.
As a rule, life after politics, for those who manage to leave on their own terms, is usually really good. Your market value is high. Your counsel is valued. You never have to scrum. Your appointment calendar is full of interesting meetings, but your work day ends at predictable times, so you get to have a life. For an ex-minister, the next election doesn’t loom menacingly like Poe’s pendulum. How can such an existence not be tempting for anyone rushing from crisis to crisis these days?
I don’t want to romanticize ex-ministership, mind you. The adrenaline rushes are never as pure. The entourages are smaller. There’s less applause. And, to be less glib, the sense of being of service, of contributing to the utmost extent of your abilities to a better Canada, is something you get to feel less often. I’ve met few ex-politicians who don’t miss it. Stephen Harper used to tell every departing cabinet minister, during their brief and usually friendly one-on-one farewell meetings, that they were leaving the best job they would ever have.
Increasingly, near the end, they left anyway.