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Editorial

February 7, 2003 - Anawak and Thompson should quit cabinet
February 14, 2003 - Fine too high for bylaw violation
February 21, 2003 - Language commissioner is a watchdog, too
February 28, 2003 - A model worth imitating

February 7, 2003

Anawak and Thompson should quit cabinet

Rankin Inlet’s two cabinet ministers, Jack Anawak and Manitok Thompson, are getting away with something that would not be tolerated in any other government in Canada.

They’re publicly opposing a decision made by the cabinet to which they belong. They have clearly said, in public, that they’re opposed to moving the Nunavut government’s petroleum products division from Rankin Inlet to Baker Lake.

In an interview with Nunatsiaq News published Nov. 22, 2002, Thompson, the minister of community government and transportation, said, "I will oppose this to the end," when stating her position on the issue. There is no evidence that her position has changed since that time.

Last week, in an interview broadcast on CBC North, Anawak said that the deputy minister of public works — who, like all deputy ministers, acts and speaks on behalf of cabinet — was "irresponsible" for comments he made to the group of public works employees in Rankin whose jobs will move to Baker Lake. There is no evidence that his position has changed since that time.

These public statements violate a cardinal principle of parliamentary government — cabinet solidarity.

In all legislatures based on the British or "Westminster" model, cabinet ministers are bound by cabinet solidarity. This means all decisions of cabinet are regarded as collective decisions. Once cabinet has made a decision, all cabinet ministers are expected to support it. It is the duty of all cabinet ministers to explain and defend those decisions.

Cabinet solidarity is linked to another important principle — cabinet secrecy. All ministers must swear an oath saying they will not reveal the content of cabinet discussions. This, among other things, allows ministers to exercise freedom of speech during cabinet discussions. Inside cabinet, away from the eyes and ears of the public, ministers may oppose any government proposal as aggressively as they wish.

But once cabinet makes a decision, it’s the duty of all ministers to support and defend that decision in public.

If a minister cannot in good conscience support or defend a cabinet decision, then he or she is expected to resign. If a minister publicly opposes a cabinet decision later on, then he or she is also expected to resign — that is, if they’re not fired by the premier or prime minister.

So why are Anawak and Thompson still in cabinet?

It’s because the so-called consensus system used in the Nunavut and Northwest Territories legislative assemblies gives the premier little or no power to enforce cabinet solidarity. Nunavut Premier Paul Okalik did not choose his cabinet. The legislature did. Only the legislature, as a whole, can formally discipline or remove cabinet ministers, through motions of censure or motions of non-confidence.

In our system, the premier enjoys great prestige, but limited political power, and there are only two methods that the premier can use to control ministers.

One, he can use his power to assign portfolios. He can punish errant ministers by giving them low-status jobs and reward productive ministers by putting them in charge of large, high-status departments. It’s theoretically possible for Okalik to punish and humiliate Anawak and Thompson by stripping them of their departmental responsibilities and making them ministers without portfolio. But it’s uncertain — perhaps unlikely — that MLAs would support this.

Two, through his office, and through the department of the executive, the premier can control the appointment and assignment of deputy ministers. Theoretically, the premier can use this power to ensure that government polices are executed by civil servants loyal to him, even if some elected cabinet ministers are in active disagreement with those policies. But that’s not the same thing as the power to dismiss ministers, which he doesn’t have.

There are some who will point out that — on the PPD transfer issue — Thompson and Anawak were speaking in their capacity "as regular MLAs" and not in their capacity as cabinet ministers. This is an empty argument. Cabinet membership is not something you can turn off and on like a light-switch. You’re either in, or you’re out. It’s hypocritical for Anawak and Thompson to enjoy the prestige and high salaries that come with their cabinet jobs, while at the same time refusing to explain and defend a decision endorsed by their other cabinet colleagues.

There are others who might ask this question: Isn’t Nunavut supposed to be "different?" Why should we follow imported British rules that may not be useful to us? Besides, the principle of cabinet solidarity isn’t a law. It’s a tradition. The Constitution Act doesn’t contain the word "cabinet." It’s an unwritten convention, originating about 250 years ago within the British parliament in Westminster, coming down to us by way of its sister parliaments in Ottawa and elsewhere in the Commonwealth. Shouldn’t the Nunavut legislature and government evolve its own traditions?

In this case, though, we would be wise to insist that Nunavut keep the tradition of cabinet solidarity — even if we have yet to develop an effective method that would allow the premier to enforce it.

First, it’s because the Nunavut cabinet must retain the ability to develop and carry out policies on behalf of all regions and communities in the territory. The narrow complaints of one community can’t be allowed to block decisions made for the greater good of the entire territory.

Such is the question of whether 14 Nunavut government positions should move from Rankin Inlet to Baker Lake. Because of the prolonged carp-and-whine campaign organized by some Rankin residents, you’d think the government of Nunavut was proposing to load their friends and neighbours onto cattle cars bound for a concentration camp. In reality, it’s a minor administrative decision made by a government that has transferred hundreds of jobs from one place to another over the past three years.

Second, it weakens the credibility of the entire Nunavut government, in the eyes of the public and in the eyes of other governments. Who speaks for the Nunavut government? The premier? Minister X? Minister Y? And it creates an opportunity for outside interests — such as the federal government — to weaken the Nunavut government through the use of divide-and-conquer tactics.

If Thompson and Anawak honestly believe that the demands of their constituents in Rankin Inlet — and their own prospects for re-election — are more important than a decision made by cabinet, there is only one course open to them. As regular members outside of cabinet, they would be free to make their case against the PPD transfer as honestly and as vociferously as they wish.

Jack Anawak and Manitok Thompson ought to know what they need to do to preserve the integrity of the government and their own honour. They must now resign from cabinet.

JB

TOP

February 14, 2003

Fine too high for bylaw violation

Iqaluit city council’s decision this week to ask that a $10,000 fine be imposed on a small Iqaluit builder for the grave crime of constructing a one-bedroom apartment comes as no great surprise.

What else is to be expected from a municipality body that believes the creation of walking trails for yuppies is more important than the creation of healthy stocks of housing for working people and their potential employers?

Iqaluit’s housing shortage has always been severe, even at the best of times. But Iqaluit city council’s punitive and anal-retentive approach to the regulation of development has helped turn a severe shortage into a desperate one.

Over the past 18 months, they’ve turned down several reasonable proposals from private developers that would have eased the city’s housing shortage and helped government and private employers hire more staff. City officials have said that passage of a new General Plan and Zoning Bylaw will open up more land for construction, but it remains to be seen if Iqaluit’s embittered developers will be willing to risk their money within the city’s new regulatory environment.

In any event, desperate times provoke desperate measures. Numerous businesses and homeowners are resorting to increasingly ingenious methods of carving housing units out of a variety of unusual spaces, often behind the backs of prying city staff.

This may not be legal, but it’s naive to believe that the economic life of the community must come to halt until after the city finishes dithering with its new zoning system. Where there’s a demand for a commodity, someone will find a way of supplying it, whether it’s legal or illegal. The city’s policies have pushed the demand for housing to extreme levels — so they shouldn’t be surprised to find people taking extreme measures to supply that demand.

The city alleges that Iqaluit contractor Jens Steenberg snuck an illegal, one-bedroom apartment onto a building that was supposed to be a two-storey single-family house. What nerve.

But it appears as if, in spite of their own incompetence, the city of Iqaluit’s Inspector Gadgets have been able to put together enough information to prove that Steenberg actually violated a bylaw.

They’re punishment, however, is completely disproportionate to the alleged crime. There are many people in Iqaluit, let us not forget, who believe that the creation of new housing units is an act that should actually be encouraged, not punished.

We only hope that Steenberg and his lawyer can find a way of persuading a court to lower the ridiculous $10,000 fine that city council intends to levy. Simply having to live in a city run by our current town council is punishment enough.

JB

TOP

February 21, 2003

Language commissioner is a watchdog, too

This may be difficult to believe, but it’s true. In 2001-02, Nunavut’s languages watchdog, Eva Aariak, received only three complaints.

This means that the people of Nunavut are either living in a state of blissful contentment with the Nunavut government’s ability to serve them in Inuktitut and other languages — or they’re just not coming forward with their concerns.

We think most readers would agree it’s the latter explanation that makes the most sense. As Aariak points out in her latest annual report, the government of Nunavut has done little to carry out recommendations she’s been making for three years now.

For those who supported the creation of Nunavut in the belief that the new territorial government would be a welcome place for the Inuit language, this is troublesome, to say the least. It’s true that the old Government of the Northwest Territories began the work of aborginal language protection and promotion, with the creation of the first interpreter corps in 1975, the passage of the Official Languages Act in 1986, the introduction of Inuktitut language instruction in the early grades, and other measures.

But in the minds of many Nunavummiut, the Nunavut government was created to finish that work. Until the GN gets it done, large numbers of people will say that Nunavut’s original promise has yet to be kept.

So if the GN’s record on the language file is as poor as Aariak maintains in her report, why aren’t more Nunavummiut complaining about not getting served in their language?

Aariak suggests in her report that the reason is cultural, and linguistic. "[M]any Inuit are unfamiliar or uncomfortable with the complaint process," she says.

She reminds non-Inuktitut speakers that the word unnirluk, which is usually used to translate the English word "complaint," carries unpleasant connotations for many Inuit and represents something that many adults were trained as children not to do.

Instead, she suggests that the term uqarvik be used, to represent the idea of "talking in order to work out a problem," which, she says, more accurately describes the intermediary role that her office plays.

If others who work in the language field agree, this suggestion ought to be carried out.

But another reason for the low number of complaints may be that large numbers of people simply don’t understand that the Nunavut language commissioner is a watchdog. In fact, it’s one of her most important functions.

Clearly, the GN should do more to explain this to the public. It should also do more to inform people that they actually have linguistic rights, and that the Office of the Language Commissioner is a place where they can go to claim them.

Nunavummiut are lucky to have a competent and dedicated language commissioner right now. They should take better advantage of her talents.

JB

TOP

January 24, 2003

Big city — small minds

It was amusing, but painful, to watch most Iqaluit city councilors display how little they know about their own community last week.

We’re referring, of course, to the wide-ranging discussion they conducted last week on the need to protect Iqaluit from "undesirables." That means people from other places who have exercised their freedom of choice and have decided to stay in Iqaluit rather than somewhere else.

To be fair, the issue was put before city council in the form of a resolution composed by the Niksiit committee, a kind of sub-committee of council that deals with social and health matters. This helps to show, at the very least, that city councilors aren’t alone in their petty bigotry and small-minded intolerance. Those attitudes likely run deep in the community, especially among longer-term residents.

But it’s curious that anyone should feel that way anymore, because it ignores an obvious reality: Nunavut is a dynamic, mobile society. Nunavummiut are still nomadic, as it were, but in a modern sense, moving from one place to another more than most other Canadians do.

Recent census figures show that 245 people moved into Iqaluit from other Nunavut communities between 1996 and 2001, and that 555 people moved here from other provinces and territories within the same period.

Across Nunavut, 915 people moved from one place to another in that period, and 1,215 came from other provinces and territories. In Rankin Inlet, at least 85 people moved there from other places in Nunavut, while Pangnirtung had 70 new arrivals and Pond Inlet had 60.

Nunavummiut are moving from one place to another in large numbers, within Nunavut and between Nunavut and the rest of Canada. Census numbers released this week, for instance, show that one out of every 10 Inuit live outside the Arctic.

There are people who move to find work, a better education, or training. There are people who move to be reunited with families, and there are people who move simply because they’re bored with where they once were. There are people who move to escape unspeakable abuse.

Whatever the reason, people have the right to live where they choose. And it’s natural that many will choose to live in their region’s largest centre. For the Baffin region, that’s Iqaluit. It’s still a small town by Canadian standards, but in Nunavut, full of opportunities, amenities and amusements not available in smaller places.

Iqaluit has attracted, and will attract, growing numbers of migrants from other Nunavut communities, other Canadian provinces and territories, and other countries. This is inevitable. There is nothing that anyone, least of Iqaluit city council, can do to stop it. Nor is there any good reason why they should stop it.

A mature city council would welcome in-migration from other places, because new people and a growing population create new demands for services and therefore new opportunities for economic and social development. A mature city council would respond to this reality by doing what they can to build Iqaluit’s stock of private or government-leased housing. A mature city council would facilitate the development of new economic and social enterprises aimed at filling new needs created by the arrival of new people.

Instead, council has, in the recent past, responded with brain-dead development policies that have blocked the construction of new housing and office space. Last week, they were on the verge of passing an unenforceable resolution that would have prevented certain "undesirable" groups of people from lingering in Iqaluit.

To be fair, there’s a grain of legitimacy in the issue that’s raised by the release of territorial inmates into the community who have finished serving their time. But of 116 people released from the Baffin Correctional Centre in the last six months of 2002, only four have remained here. Of those, two moved to southern Canada, and two stayed here to work in construction.

Besides, a cursory glance at the court docket on any given week will show that Iqaluit has done an excellent job of producing its own large crop of home-grown criminals.

It’s also natural, though, that Iqaluit residents would object to the presence of a repeat sex offender that another community wants to banish. But if anything, this simply illustrates the futility of using banishment to deal with repeat offenders — because it simply transfers one community’s problem into another.

If the Iqaluit city council believes that newcomers are straining the city’s resources, then they ought to know what to do. Document the problem, and lobby higher levels of government for more help.

JB

TOP

February 28, 2003

A model worth imitating

It’s well-known that in Nunavut, written material isn’t always the best way of communicating vital information to people.

Many people are still more comfortable using the Inuit language in its spoken form. Many are reluctant to read written materials that emanate from government and other organizations. If they do read them, they often don’t get a lot out of meaning out of them, no matter what language the materials are written in.

One reason for this is that many people are barely able to read either Inuktitut or English. But another reason for this is that many government-produced materials are so badly written, they don’t communicate any meaning anyway.

Recently, Pauktuutit, the national Inuit Women’s Association, with the help of a grant from Health Canada, produced a set of public information materials that should be held up as models of excellence for others to follow.

It’s a set of three 16-page booklets aimed at helping Inuit women better understand how to look after their health. There are three versions of each booklet: eastern Arctic syllabics, western Roman orthography, and Labrador Roman orthography.

The first, on aging, covers things like menopause and osteoporosis. The second gives advice on how to reduce the risk of getting lung, breast, and cervical cancer. The third, aimed at men as well as women, gives advice on how to avoid heart disease and stroke.

The text is written in plain, clean language. It communicates. Unlike so much of the well-intentioned junk that governments use to say things to people, these booklets use language that avoids jargon and needless formality. They’re simple, but not patronizing.

This kind of simplicity is vital, because these booklets contain potentially live-saving health information that must be communicated effectively.

The illustrations, by Alootook Ipellie, are easy to see and well-placed, showing anatomical details labeled in English and the appropriate Inuit language orthography. Pauktuutit says the booklets will be distributed to mailboxes throughout the Arctic soon, so most readers should soon be able to see examples of what we’re talking about.

Pauktuutit deserves praise, of course, for producing their series of health booklets. But they also deserve to be imitated.

Other organizations, and governments, should study what Pauktuutit has done, and then apply the lessons to their own newsletters, brochures and other written materials.

JB

TOP

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