The Amazing Disappearing Premier

In a Parliamentary democracy, the parliament matters. It is where Ministers and members state their positions, make their arguments, and put their policies, and other matters of public interest, on the record.

At least in theory.

In a system of responsible government, the parliament matters. It is where the administration gains and retains, and occasionally loses, the confidence of the people via their representatives. It is where the administration is held to account through Committee of the Whole, written questions or inquiries of ministries, the tabling of reports by officers of Parliament, and, in modern times, the relatively new institution of question time.

At least in theory.

But then there’s practice.

The phenomenon of the Amazing Atrophying House of Assembly is already well known and well described by techniques of modern statistical science.

But now, for the first time, the crack labradore statistics team can describe the distinct, but closely related phenomenon of the Amazing Disappearing Premier.

ODP’s disdain for the House of Assembly — that thing he had to get elected to in order to become President Premier — is barely disguised not disguised at all. The number of days in which he has participated in debate has, with the exception of 2008, been on a steady decline since he became Premier. (The paler shade of blue in the following graphs show, by way of reference, the comparable stats for his time as Leader of the Opposition, including the period when he was laid up for medical reasons. The preliminary nature of the 2009 data is indicated by the asterisk.)

If current trends continue — both ODP’s pattern of non-participation, and the fall sitting of the legislature customarily being only about 40% as long as the spring one — he will add just six or seven participation days to his 2009 total.

Of course, as noted above, part of this is a function of having a legislature that sits as little as it can get away with. However, even after adjusting the absolute numbers to account for the Amazing Atrophying House of Assembly, his medical layup early in his opposition career, and the shortened sessions in election years, the Premier’s relative participation in House proceedings is rapidly diminishing. This graph shows his participation in debate as a percentage of all sitting days, per calendar year, since he was first elected as an MHA.

From Hansard alone, it is impossible to distinguish ODP’s non-participation in the House of Assembly due to absence, from non-participation due to surliness, sulking, or deflection. It is rumoured, for instance, that he actually was in the House of Assembly for the five last days of the recently ended spring sitting. Yet there is not one syllable attributed to him in the written proceedings. Not even during QP.

These days, even when he does deign to show up in the legislative chamber to which he has been elected to represent the people of — which district is it again? — or, if present, to open his mouth at all, said mouth, which once ran on lithium batteries, has been saying less and less. This graph shows the average number of words attributed by Hansard to the Premier per sitting day, by calendar year:

Of course, once again you have be fair to ODP and adjust for the fact that he’s not always present, what with Premier’s meetings and other important out-of-province travel and whatnot. However, even considering only the days when he does participate, the average number of words that come out of him when he does speak has also dropped off dramatically:

The dramatic decline is fuelled by such eloquence from the formerly prolix leader of the PC party as:

PREMIER WILLIAMS: No instructions have been given; and, yes, we can.

And the immortal:

PREMIER WILLIAMS: (Inaudible).

Once upon a time, the legislature mattered.

Once upon a time, the Premier’s participation in the legislature mattered.

It is a function the withering both of the political vine and the public service ethic that no one seems to care that none of these things matter any more.

Those with long memories might ask themselves, why not just give up this silly pretence of responsible parliamentary government, and just appoint a small group of six or seven eminent commissioners or some such to run the affairs of state?

Others might ask instead: if the guy at the top is so utterly bored, annoyed, or frustrated — or all of the above — with the trappings and time demanded of the elected, parliamentary job that he, to hear him say it, so very magnanimously, volunteered to do... then isn’t it time he considered a career change?

The amazing atrophying democracy (II)

Despite the best efforts of Elections Nova Scotia to obfuscate the data, this corner has been able to crunch a few numbers which put the atrophying of party democracy in Newfoundland and Labrador into a comparative context.

The following charts were generated by extracting data from Elections Newfoundland and Labrador and Elections Nova Scotia's legally-mandated disclosures of party and election campaign financing. The data under consideration here include personal donations, from in-province donors, to registered parties, from 2005 to 2010. (Nova Scotia figures are not available on line for earlier years.)

That is to say, corporate, union, and strange miscellaneous donations to parties are not included. In addition, only contributions to central party coffers are included; contributions to election and by-election candidates, and, in Nova Scotia, to district associations, are excluded. Donations from out-of-province contributors are also excluded. Finally, in order to ensure and apples-to-apples comparison, Nova Scotia contributions under $100 (about 5.6% of the total) have also been excluded, to ensure that the data set is comparable to the Elections NL disclosure, which is only required for donations of $100 or more.

Note that these figures may also be further slightly distorted due to

(A) Different reporting conventions in the two provinces: In NS any given contributor's multiple donations are usually aggregated for the entire year, while in NL there are some donors who give multiple reportable contributions throughout the year, and who are reported separately for each contribution.

(B) The fact that there were two provincial general elections in NS during the study period (2006 and 2009) vs. just one in NL (2007). Elections tend to shake loose the cash.

With these caveats in mind, let's look first at the average size of personal contributions to party finances. At first blush, the two provinces are roughly comparable in this respect. In Newfoundland and Labrador, the average party contribution was about $311, while in Nova Scotia it was $250. In both provinces, the average contribution tended to be smaller from rural donors than from donors in the province's largest metropolitan areas (St. John's or Halifax, including their suburbs, respectively.)
However, the overall similarity in donation size masks a stark and important contrast between the two provinces. This chart shows the total rate of donations, expressed as the number of donations per 1,000 of population (as estimated in 2010) per year:
As previously noted, political contributions in NL are heavily skewed by source towards the St. John's urban area. There were about 1.8 party finance contributions, per person, per year from the St. John's metropolitan area. In the rest of the province, the figure is an anemic 0.4 contributions per 1,000 per year. In a town of 2,000 people (say, Wabush), you might statistically expect just under one person to have contributed to the NL party financing system in any given year.

Urban or rural, financial participation in party politics pales in comparison to Nova Scotia, where the number of political contributions averages 3.3 per 1,000 per year. Furthermore, there is very little skewing of this figure towards the provincial capital (3.6, vs. 3.1 in the rest of the province.)

The same trends appear in the total monetary value of party contributions, again expressed in population terms (dollars per person per year):
In NL, the entire population donated an average of $0.28 — 28 cents — per person per year to the registered provincial political parties. For metro St. John's, the figure is $0.59, which means, conversely, that in the rest of the province the average contribution was a meagre $0.10 per person per year.

By sharp, sharp contrast, in NS the average contribution per person per year in rural areas alone was $0.68, higher than the figure for St. John's, and just over $1.00 for metro Halifax. Nova Scotia as a whole scored $0.82 per person per year, so while there was still a marked difference between rural and urban participation in the party system, it was nothing like the near non-existence of political parties in rural Newfoundland and Labrador.

Finally, this chart shows the two metro areas' relative shares of their provincial populations, the total number of party finance conributions, and their total dollar vallue. (Remember, contrary to very popular myth, St. John's does not have nearly as large a share of the provincial population as it thinks it does.) Again, the relatively egalitarian situation in Nova Scotia contrasts vividly with the northeast-Avalon-dominated participation in political parties across the water:

In Newfoundland and Labrador, politics is a spectator sport, not an audience participation event, especially in rural areas.

These numbers make it abundantly clear that it will be very difficult for the political parties in Newfoundland and Labrador to accept making the major, and positive, legislative change which came into effect in 2010 in Nova Scotia, namely, the prohibition of all corporate, union, and organizational donations to the political and electoral process, and all contributions from outside the province.

The amazing atrophying democracy

Bondpapers comes up with an amazing statistic:

Construction, design and engineering companies gave the provincial Conservatives $239,725 in political donations in 2010, according to figures from the province’s chief electoral office.

Companies in the design, engineering and construction field gave a mere $3, 950 to the Liberal Party and none to the New Democrats.

This observation is a subset a figure which yours truly twoot yesterday, namely, that nearly three-quarters — 74% and change — of all contributions to all provincial political parties in 2010 came in the form of corporate contributions to the governing Progressive Conservatives.

All other contributions, personal, union, or RNC, and to all registered provincial parties, made up the other 26%. Contributions from private inviduals constituted less than 20% of the entire total of reportable political donations.

Not only is it staggering how anemic the provincial party financing system is, it is concentrated very heavily in and around Capital City. Now, this overly-urban concentration of political money is a feature of fiscal democracy for just about every party in every jurisdiction in North America. But, at least at first glance, the situation in Newfoundland and Labrador seems to take it to the extreme.

This map shows where the money came from in general party contributions, to all parties, made between 2008 and 2010 inclusive. (Contributions to by-election candidates are not included.) The totals were summed by municipality as listed in the Elections NL disclosures, then allocated to the electoral district where that municipality is located. Where a municipality is split into two or more electoral districts, the total for that town or city was, somewhat arbitrarily, re-allocated to its constituent districts roughly in proportion to the number of the municipality's regular polling divisions contained in that district. (See legend at bottom right.)


There are a large number of districts where there are few recent personal donations on file for the 2008-10 period under consideration, and one (Grand Bank) where there are none at all.

However, a large proportion of personal donations — upwards of 25% — come directly from elected officials themselves. Exclud those donations made by sitting MHAs, MPs, and a Senator, and the map colours become even paler. There are fully 18 out of 48 districts in which private individuals have donated a combined total of less than $1000 to all registered parties over the course of three years... and five where there have been none at all.

The price of democracy

Stephen Penney writes, disappointedley, in a letter to today’s Telegram:

Shame on The Telegram and Heffernan for putting a price tag on democracy. We don't have direct democracy so the next best thing is for people to be well represented.

Agreed!

I have to laugh at the irony of The Telegram's editor, Russell Wangersky, who otherwise constantly attacks the autocratic behaviour of Premier Danny Williams

Autocratic? Agreed!

Something we seem to be good at in this province is cost-cutting when it comes to such things as culture, education and democracy… We've seen it in practice with the Commission of Government, the reduction of the seats in the legislature.. Democracy is not something that should be put on the chopping block or downsized.

Agreed!

To which litany Messr. Penney could well have added:

• the abandonment of important, centuries-old Parliamentary practices such as the Government actually deigning to answer written questions on the Order Paper (let alone Oral Questions);
• the Amazing Atrophying Sitting Calendar of the House of Assembly under the leadership, such as it is, who considers the institution a waste of time, as discussed here, here, here, and here;
• the compete transfiguration of the legislature into a rubber-stamp machine;
• the appointment of recovering partisans to the traditionally non-partisan offices of Electoral Boundary Commisioners and, especially, of Chief Electoral Officer;
• the utter abandonment of any pretence of Parliamentary decorum, as discussed here, here, and here;
• the contemptuous attitude of the government towards court decisions, delegated authorities, judges, and commissions of enquiry, and their role in our system of government;
• and, especially, the innovative development, almost certainly unique in the Westminster Parliamentary universe, of the electionless ballot, as discussed here, here, and here.

Democracy shouldn’t have a price tag. It shouldn’t be put on the chopping block.

But Penney’s criticism is not a little late, and an awful lot misplaced: none of those things are Wangerky's or Heffernan's fault.

The Amazing Atrophying Democracy (III)

Another depressing milestone has passed in the long, slow decline of whatever passed for democracy in Newfoundland and Labrador.

With Saturday's release of the final list of candidates for the upcoming provincial election, the 2011 election has the fewest number of people running as independent or minor-party candidates since 1982. There are just three independents, and no minor parties running at all.

This chart shows the historical trend, with the number of indepedent or minor-party candidates shown in grey, with the exception of several minor parties which are highlighted by colour:

The minor party episodes include the 1956 attempt by the CFF (forerunner to the NDP) to break into provincial politics; the 1959 Newfoundland Democratic Party; the 1970s and 2000s (New) Labrador Party*; the 1975 Smallwood "Liberal Reform" schismatic party; and 1999's Newfoundland and Labrador Party.

This next chart shows the cross-jurisdictional comparison in the current (or latest) provincial and territorial* elections, and the 2011 federal election. To adjust for the differing sizes of the various elected chambers, the figures are shown as the number of candidates per available legislative seat. So, for example, in the current Newfoundland and Labrador election there is an average of less than 1/10th of a minor candidate running per district.

"Minor parties" for the purpose of this comparison excludes the Liberals and (Progressive) Conservatives, and the NDP in every province except PEI, where the NDP could not put up a full slate of candidates.

It also excludes the Quebec-specific Parti Québécois and ADQ, as well as the Saskatchewan Party and Yukon Party, which are the rebranded successors to those jurisdictions' former Progressive Conservatives. Also shown, for comparative purposes, is Québec Solidaire, the closest Quebec equivalent to an NDP, as well as the Green Party in all provinces and federally.


Current elections are marked with an asterisk. As the nomination deadline has not yet passed for Saskatchewan's current election, 2007 data is shown.

What does it say when the democratic margins are healthier in Yukon, a territory with roughly the population of Mount Pearl or Conception Bay South, than in a province? There are more independent candidates currently vying for one of the 17 seats in the Yukon legislature — including, improbably, Elvis Aaron Presley in Pelly-Nisutlin — than there are in the 48 districts in Newfoundland and Labrador.


* The New Labrador Party came before the Labrador Party; the "New" governs "Labrador", not "Party".

** The electoral systems in Nunavut and the NWT are not organized on party lines; all candidates are unaffiliated for territorial electoral purposes.

I*eland

Two items from VOCM of note this evening, both centering around The False Comparisons That Will Not Die.

That is, the ever-so popular Newfoundland ≈ Ireland comparison, and its up-and-coming cousin, Newfoundland ≈ Iceland.

First we are off to the Emerald Isle:

Railway Should Have Been Retained: Scholar
August 31, 2006

The Chairman of the Centre for Newfoundland and Labrador Studies at the Waterford Institute of Technology in Ireland believes the Newfoundland Railway should have been retained. A new book launched at the Railway Coastal Museum features poems by Dr. John Ennis. One of the works tells the story of the struggle and hardship of building the Newfoundland Railway. Dr. Ennis says rail development is booming in Ireland.

Ah yes. Train nostalgia. There's probably a multi-syllabic German word for it somewhere.

Newfoundland. Island. Ireland. Island. Tempting comparison. Newfoundland. Used to have a railway. Ireland. Still does. Convenient similarities. No one bothers to look at the differences, though.

Ireland has a relatively continuous ecumene of agricultural and generally settled lands. Newfoundland has strings of small settlements, concentrated along the coast, and separated (other than in the comparatively rare cases where the settlements run into one another) by wilderness.

Ireland has a much larger population (over 6.2-million for the Republic and Ulster together) than Newfoundland, and in a smaller area, that's a higher population density. Much higher: 76.3/km2, vs. 4.5/km2 in Newfoundland, and that's including non-"mainland" Newfoundland populations like Fogo and Change Islands (but not Labrador). Comparing rail network to population, today's Newfoundland population would have given about 350 people for every route-kilometre of the Newfoundland rail network at its zenith. Ireland has over 2300 people per route-kilometre. Passenger rail demands high population densities or, in their absence, no other option for getting around, or massive subsidies.

Or a combination thereof.

Ireland also has several cities comparable in size, metro-to-metro, to Newfoundland's only largish city, St. John's: Limerick, Galway, Cork, and Derry, plus others that are Corner Brook sized and larger. And Ireland also has Belfast, whose metro population is larger than all of Newfoundland combined, and Dublin, which is roughly 10 times the size of St. John's alone. Large cities, and cities in close proximity to one another, favour passenger rail transportation. This is why you will find it in Ireland, in Canada primarily in the Windsor-Quebec corridor, and in the U.S. in the northeast. Conversely, this is why you will not find it in Newfoundland, not since the development of the highway system.

It would be nice if there were still a train in Newfoundland. It would be nicer still if St. John's had been long-sighted enough to keep streetcars instead of buses; it might have helped the post-war city avoid becoming Just Another North American Suburb Of Itself. But the fact is, for all but five fiscal years between 1904 and 1946, the Newfoundland Railway lost money. [Source: Hiller and Harrington, volume II, p. 104 et ff.] Four of those five surplus years were during WWII, and attributable solely to the short-lived wartime boom in traffic.

If you want to fall into the tempting comparison between Ireland and Newfoundland in matters of rail transportation, consider the 20th-century atrophying of rail transport in Ireland. Yes, given Irish demographics, and the geographical factors outlined above, rail will never disappear from Ireland. But just as in Newfoundland, and most everywhere else in the developed world, rail has declined for most of the past 100 years. In Newfoundland, it declined to the point of disappearing; the system was never that large to begin with, so it had less distance to fall to its death. Many branches and services had already been abandoned, after short histories, long before Newfoundland became part of Canada. And the recent renaissance of rail in Ireland has everything to do with geographical and demographic factors that Newfoundland simply does not possess.

Now to hop across the Atlantic to Iceland.

Premier Continues Iceland Trip
August 31, 2006

Premier Danny Williams and Fisheries Minister Tom Rideout are in Iceland this week, studying new energy technologies and how that country restructured its' fishery. Williams dined with Iceland's Prime Minister and met with officials of the local marine institute. Given what he has seen so far, Williams says the possibilities for Newfoundland and Labrador are endless. He says Iceland is an island on the edge of the Arctic Circle and if it can be done there, it certainly can be done in this province. Williams says he'll be taking a close look at Iceland's energy model. Williams and Rideout are also visiting Norway for meetings with government officials and Norsk Hydro.

It's too bad VOCM is paraphrasing here, and not direct-quoting. Yes, Iceland is an island. Very good, Danny.

Newfoundland AND LABRADOR is not.

If the Premier is looking to Iceland as a tempting North Atlantic "island" comparison, he may as well also look to Yukon, the NWT, or Nunavut as tempting northern Canadian ones.

And why not? He wouldn't be the first to make such a comparison, even if, for obvious political and nationalistic ones, he'd likely want to be the last.

Newfoundland ≈ Ireland. Newfoundland ≈ Iceland. Comparisons so tempting, and, for the most part, so very wrong.