If this is oppression, discrimination, colonization, land-theft...

 

A recent announcement (Education agreement worth $1B signed in Kahnawake) informs us that an additional $310 Million has been added to a Federal Government program so as to arrive at a $1.1 Billion, 5-year education budget for 5,800 students in 22 First Nations communities in Quebec.

That new money, alone, amounts to $53,000 per student (roughly $11,000 for each year) and is apparently intended to promote instruction in endangered indigenous languages. That means the total budgetary allocations, per First Nations student, per year, will amount to $38,000. 

By way of context, and using 2017 numbers, the Province of Quebec's Ministry of Education budgeted $13,000, per student, per year - barely above what the feds have just agreed to fork out, annually, for only one modest aspect of the indigenous students' overall education.

Thirty-eight thousand versus thirteen thousand per year: doing the math, that difference comes to $125,000 more dollars being directed towards each indigenous child's education in the Province over a 5-year period versus its non-indigenous students. However, it bears noting that costs of materials and labour in comparatively distant communities are going to be a good 30% higher, reducing that difference to $87,500  So, by way of further context, that duly-adjusted differential, alone, would pay for 3.5 years of all-expense-paid (tuition, residence, meals, books, transportation included) attendance for a Canadian-resident student in a typical arts program at the prestigious McGill University in Montreal. 

Seen from an outcomes-based perspective, the above is the financial difference between competing in the workforce with a high school diploma (no trade school/apprenticeship, the subsidized costs of which are not included) versus a post-graduate (Arts) degree from McGill. Alternatively, it translates into much (if not all) of the complete cost of a UQAM MBA degree. 

Now, which of those two outcomes, a high-school diploma versus an MBA degree, is likely to translate into a lifelong six-figure career? Or, forget the MBA difference: StatsCan tells us that a college degree, by itself, will translate into a >$22,000 (median) per year income advantage versus just a high school diploma. Over a 40-year career, the cumulative benefit would approach $1 million.

So, a free post-secondary degree and a $900,000+ lifetime income boost; please, somebody tell me how that's concrete evidence of ongoing oppression, discrimination, colonization and land-theft. Put another way, how is that not considerable reparation for past inequities, bearing in mind that today's non-indigenous students had no hand, whatsoever, in perpetrating those inequities? 

And all that leaves out, entirely, the monies awarded First Nations communities pursuant to things like the Truth and Reconciliation Committee's hearings, payments which take into account residential school injustices.

 (NB: that Quebec-resident indigenous students of the Federally funded program don't all go on to become degree-holders earning a median $63,000 per year is for another discussion, as is the fact that doing so would require living other than in one of those 22 communities. The point, here, is that the funding basis for them earning $63,000/year is arguably there, whereas the funding basis for their non-indigenous counterparts translates into just over a median $41,000 per year.)

Regrettably, the past decades' worth of experience casts serious doubt on the prospects for such a potential being realized. Indeed, more likely is the prospect of underwhelming results giving rise to demands for even more funds at some point or other, all the while finding any number of reasons to blame "structural racism" for the needed additional monies - monies borrowed, at interest, on taxpayers' behalf and paid over time by same. (Fair notice: before jumping on that mention of "taxpayers," no, "status indians" on reserves are not automatically exempt from paying taxes, save for on-reserve properties/incomes.) 

And where, exactly, the mounds of funds paid out with little or no results are actually going is one of those sensible questions for which no authoritative inquiries or satisfactory answers ever seem to ensue. Funny, that.

In the end, them, am I writing this because I begrudge the beneficiaries the money? No. I am writing it because the current (and typical) media coverage is critically bereft of any sense of proportion or comparative context, thereby ignoring, entirely, those payments' significance and impressive potential. That omission, in turn, leaves the door wrongly open for future claims of victimhood and rampant racism, claims that seem to be at the core of a grey-market cottage industry in the country.                

Testing Politicos' Mental Fitness to Govern: A Parable for Canada

When you think about it all for just a moment...it was once believed that various checks and balances (e.g., social mores, opposition parties, an independent senate - even, to some extent, the authority of the British crown) would be sufficient to prevent the rise of despotism in Canada.

Always a tenuous belief at best, it managed, nevertheless, to lull us into a false state of comfort, thinking, as bad as things might get politically, they would never be so bad as to merit grave concern. Oh, perhaps worried enough to long for another election; but still content to let the electoral train continue rolling along until it finally had to make a next stop.

Well, over the years a few people got on board that train who had been riding other trains - maybe even robbed one or two of them; and they saw that this train was not much different, especially the passengers. Like so many others, they were completely engrossed in their seats, their berths, their traveling companions and neighbours, their luggage, their meals, their departures, their destinations to give much thought to the crew driving the train - who just happened to be wielding the most frightening power imaginable over their lives throughout their entire journey. A dining car waiter, posing no more real danger than slow or surly service and, at worst, a spilled drink, was thought a far more worrisome threat than some anonymous engineer at the throttle. After all, someone or something could be relied upon to ensure that the men in front knew how to run a train, at least. And so they paid them little mind.

Those observant few, however, knew better. Much better. The odd wallet or purse purloined prior to a hasty exit would only deliver an insignificant fraction of the total wealth aboard a train. How much cleverer it would be to take the entire train! All they needed was time to befriend enough of the existing crew - or, better still, recruit them to the plan by adding them to its beneficiaries. Some passengers, too - those whose isolation, eyes and posture betrayed a deep-seated inner anger - could prove useful allies whose loyalty could be had in return merely for a promise that, finally, retribution could be theirs. Simple rural folk disapproving righteously of the self-centred urban swells on board who sniffily returned their disregard, loud, fat and perpetually angry sorts from all parts - these were a rich and ready resource to be mined.

Thus, with many tricks, arguments and distractions, did the observant few keep the passengers fitfully preoccupied, taking little notice of the changes in the crew, the rising temperature in their cars and the diminishing portions on their dining plates.

When word arrived that a sizeable and vocal enough minority of those on board had demanded a new team be given the throttle and full say in the remainder of the route to be followed, it came as but one more unremarkable development atop a long preceding series; and the passengers returned to their prefabricated urgencies. After all, whoever might be up front, they would know enough to be able to run a train and take it down the line: someone or something else would be sure to see to that.

Too late they began to realize the price they might be about to pay for their trustful inattention, as the train began to speed them off in wild and unwanted directions, jostling many of them rudely about, often to the unrepressed delight of their detractors. Of special delight to the plain, rural folk were the antics of the unsteadied city slickers whose overdue comeuppance was finally nigh. Yes, though not for the many, for some on board the fun had just begun and could afford to run on like that forever.

How differently they all might have thought of their plight if they saw the internment camp awaiting them at the end of the line.

.........................

Is this where we have come from, how we have gotten here and where we are going? If I may be allowed to paraphrase Michael Ignatieff, let me, for one, shout out here and now: "No! No! No!"

NOT me; NOT my Canada; NOT my future; NOT my children!

Hear me, Cons, and make no mistake about this: you are NOT my government and you never will be. Leave this engine and find some other train, if you must. This one's being reclaimed and returned to its proper track. Your ticket has been revoked.

And, to complete my original thought, since experience has now taught us how vulnerable to abuse our system really is and how the checks & balances we trusted in simply don't work, we have to stop relying on them to weed out the despots for us. We should, instead, regard our system much as we regard a firearm, something far too dangerous to entrust to an unfit mind. Which means that anyone aspiring to a position of public power should be made to pass a psychological fitness test; and those continuing in such positions should be required to undergo re-review regularly thereafter.)

Iggy Awaits His "Obama Moment"

Welcome aboard!

Here we are many knots removed from Toronto's G20-Fest with most of the various political leaders safely ensconced in their scrutiny-proof summer hideaways and your Captain can't help but scan the horizon for signs of the good ship Iggy, whose sails ought rightly to be yearning to ride the winds of tumult whipped up by its arch nemisis, the Commodore Steve. Alas, all I can claim for the effort is an empty spyglass.

What self-respecting politico-on-the-hunt would be MIA (and ducked-down in China constitutes being MIA in today's day and age) when his quarry has turned its hull full sideways into his gunsights with its commander in quarters, abed? It's enough to make your Captain think every pirate movie ever made must have gotten it all wrong - not a good thing when you're talking about my sea skills' most trusted source. Unless, that is, I've been confused about what Cap'n Iggy is actually chasing: not the Commodore, but an "Obama Moment". Really, it's not that implausible when you think about it all for just a moment.

Humour your Captain for just a moment, if you will. I promise to be considerately brief.

What if we're not talking about a group of ships in conflict but a fleet of vessels on a common course? And what if an adamantly impatient Admiralty wanted that fleet to pull out every stop in order to arrive at its destination with all dispatch. Would they not want the most hard-driving and singleminded individual in command, if only to see just how far he can get them and how fast?

However, fearing mutiny in the event that their pick is seen to go madly too far, the Admiralty needs a back-up commander who is viewed to be a voice of reason and, thus, a remedy for the sea-sickness induced by his hard-charging predecessor. The net result would be to have it both ways: to speed the fleet as far ahead as possible before the crews get paralyzed with anxiety; and then bring them safely to precisely the same harbour, relieved and unquestioning, now serving under a cooler head. Obama replacing Bush, for want of a better metaphor.

Bear in mind that such need only be a back-up arrangement in case the first commander begins to falter; there's no guarantee it will be activated. But it would require that all concerned understand and play their parts.

Besides, himself an inveterate and unabashed elitist, Cap'n Iggy might be just as anxious as anyone to arrive at a port run by a pod of fellow travelers, be he at the helm or just at the ready. Indeed, the last thing he'd need would be to go firing real broadsides off into some of the fleet along the way. Far better to wait and see if Commodore Steve sails it into a Bush so that Cap'n Iggy can Obama it on to history.

So, perhaps he awaits his moment, even as he learns all he might ever need to know about erecting wall-like divisions and asserting centralized control over the masses from his accommodating hosts in a far off land.

Then, again, perhaps it's a yarn I'm spinning with absolutely no grounding in reality - in which case, I had better be careful or soon I might be spying Nessie chasing after the Great White Whale. A whole other cruise, entirely.

Ahoy 'til next time.

Toronto's G20, 2010 - Heckuva Bargain!

Welcome aboard! Today's cruise takes in the aftermath of the G20 Summit held this past June in Toronto, Ontario, Canada (latitude and longitude available on request).

Much analytical attention is currently being paid to that now-infamous event - and justifiably so. In following it, the Good Captain and his spyglass are seeing several popularly recurring themes:

1. Outrage over the behaviour of some protesters;
2. Outrage over the behaviour of the security forces;
3. Outrage over the behaviour of the responsible officials;
4. Outrage over the coverage in both the mainstream and the alternative media;
5. Outrage over the expenditures involved.

Since the very air and the Internet are sufficiently rife with all the above, your humble Captain will, mercifully, spare you from a rehash of that here. You're quite welcome.

Instead, I would like to draw your attention to the bewilderment that is often mixed in with all that outrage, like an accelerant to flame. Looked at individually, a great many things just don't seem to make sense. But our life experience tells us that most things do make sense; so we reach about for commonalities pointing to the reason(s) for it all. And what unifying G20 2010 theme is being identified most often? Human error. (As your grateful host, your Captain is being as genteel as he can with his choice of words, here.)

Yes, mistakes were made by many. We all meant well and tried our best; but like so many frisbees caught in unexpected gusts, circumstances simply took on unforseeable directions all their own and, well, there you are. Very sorry. Can we move on now: we've important work that needs doing.

Captain Daylight's problem, however, is that, while his spyglass has spotted many G20-related things that officials might like, at worst, to be taken for mistakes, a great many simply don't look like errors, when you think about it all for just a moment.

Chief among those things is the budget for the G8/G20 combo meal the Harper goverment ordered. At somewhere between $1.2 and $2.0 billion, that seems like pretty steep tab, all the more so in comparison to previous G-this-and-that events. Surely the government found itself in a little over its head and had to make up in dollars for what it lacked in preparation time. Sorry. Won't happen again.

But the Captain knows that, what's printed on those cardboard, clamshell, fast-food packages doesn't have to be what's actually inside. So if (just by way of conjecture, mind you) Herr Harper knew the good innocents of Canada would object to his ordering a non-simulated, full-scale, urban, unabashedly-aggressive, mass-control war games exercise (but that's what he planned to order, just the same), would he want it delivered in a package labeled for what it was; or might, "G20 Security Package," not prevent spooking the children - especially since he'd need them to treat the game as real when their turn comes?

Of course you'll be tempted to ask why he would want to order something so insidious and how could he expect to get away with it in a free society, particularly one as infrequently visited by civil unrest as Canada? Well, you may be relieved to discover that it might not be because he is "going rogue" and embarking on an aberrant and delusional campaign. (See? Your Captain doesn't like to spook the children, either.) No; it might be much worse than that. (Okay, I lied.)

Now, I can see that some of you eyeing the exits at this point; so let me assure you you're free to disembark at any time. But for those staying with the tour, let's pause a moment to recapture some needed perspective by asking ourselves a couple of questions:

• What is the G20's purpose? (To facilitate international economic co-ordination [notice I didn't say "co-operation"]); and
• What was on the agenda at its Summit in Toronto? (Austerity measures.)

Whereas other countries have had hands-on experience in dealing with local fallout from the former, Canada is arguably past due for having its turn. Problem is, if it's not sports-related, contemporary Canadians don't have much of a history of running riot, the little dears. Therefore, how to convince the rest of the G20 that, if and when its time comes to handle the kind of widespread unrest that, oh let's just say, something like draconian austerity measures might incite, Canada will be up to the task? Furthermore, if part of the G20's co-ordination task is to promote a North American Union (along the lines of the European Union), how might it demonstrate the way such an arrangement could successfully assert itself? Well, what better way to do it all than to stage a real-life dress rehearsal while everyone is in town?

Now, what would be needed? Let's run through the shopping list:

• Carte blanche. (Not really a problem in a no-opposition and summer-recessed parliament. If necessary, however, see "property damage", below: so, check);
• A major North American urban centre (Toronto: check);
• The latest toys (Sound cannons, pre-fab fortifications, state of the art armour, sprays, gasses, modified mass transit for detainees: check);
• Space for masses of detainees, bona fide or otherwise (Eastern Avenue, etc.: check)
• A combined U.S./Canadian force (Untendered $500 million contract to private U.S. firm, RCMP, OPP, Toronto Police Service, hundreds of other cities' officers and the JTF2 : check);
• Stealth (Private firm & contractees obscured from public view or accountability, martial law regulations passed effectively in secret: check);
• Legal enforcement status for U.S. operatives to make their arrests prosecutable in Canada (48-hour approavals and deputizations for all: check);
• A high-enough profile to attract public attention and test-drive the media-spin machine (pre-arranged and carefully-controlled coverage by all the major, proven-compliant dailies and networks: check);
• Crowds in both open spaces and on the streets to test the gamut of control tactics (Queens Park, Queen/King West, College, Yonge Street: check)
• Good old, reliable property damage to divide and distract the public (Agents provocateurs, staged rampages in full media view: check);
• Large, strongly resistant protester masses (Oops. Well, if they don't play along, let's just treat them as if they're out of control, anyway: so, check);
• Identifying likeliest repercussions & sources of resistance (Message management, media placements, internet monitoring: check);
• A swift denouement to contain the impact and leave behind only the intended subliminal images and lessons (Massive releases within 24 hours, no messy charges to clean up: check);
• Full play-by-play recordings for extensive post-game analysis to hone future tactics (Scores more surveillance cameras: check).

As you can see, that's one spectacularly ambitious list that probably falls well short of covering everything. So, given all that, the priceless value of being able to see/dissect full-scale mass control in action and the opportunity to implant a preemptive and precautionary message for the future with an entire country's population, perhaps what was actually inside that little "G20 Security" package turned out to be heckuva bargain, after all. Mistake? Maybe not. I'm not saying; I'm just saying.

Well, that's the end of this cruise. I hope that you enjoyed the trip and perhaps you'll join Captain Daylight and his crew for more thoughtful adventures down the road. Until then, be the wind in your sails and the horizon bright with promise. Ahoy!