PATRICK BAUD
Absent in debates about Senate reform in Canada is a sense of what we expect of and hope for our Senators. We argue endlessly over how and whether they should be elected, whether the provincial (and territorial) delegations should be equal or (roughly) proportionate to population, and what kind of constitutional wrangling would be required to change anything about the red chamber. In these discussions, the fact that these Senators are not merely anecdotes for public consumption, but actual legislators is often lost. Not only is what Senators actually do ignored, but so is what we want them to be doing differently.
We even give up the ability to imagine and demand something different from the members of Canada’s upper house. To forego this crucial democratic commitment is to entrust the vitality of our national institutions into the hands of those who are motivated principally by interests more narrow than the common and public good. What we need is more substantial than the generic definition of what an upper house does provided in any comparative politics textbook nor the broad outline provided in the Constitution Act of 1867. If we really want to have a serious, substantial debate about Senate reform, we need to be able to discuss what we want Senators to do.
Not only must we be able to articulate clear positions about this question, but we must also be able and willing to reach an agreement about what we, as a society, want Senators to do. This latter category will doubtless be narrower than the sum of all of the expectations and hopes that individual Canadians have of the Senate, but such is the nature of founding (or in this case, refounding) an institution which will enjoy broad, substantive public legitimacy. This is no simple assignment.
Part of challenge is that we are not used to talking about our institutions, especially ones surrounded with such pomp and circumstance as Parliament, in this way. Deference and tacit respect are preferred to taking ownership and responsibility for what public institutions do on our behalf and how they do so. In some activist circles, this kind of rhetoric is nowhere near novel, but even there it is grounded on a certain cynicism which presumes that these institutions are opposed to the public good almost by design. This is only true if we allow it be.
We are especially not used to talking about the Senate in this way because it feels inappropriate to do so. Senators, after all, are not directly responsible to us in the same way as are our MPs, nor are they even indirectly responsible to us as are the Prime Minister and his or her ministers. In recent Canadian political history, there have been few disputes about appointments to the Senate, aside from some half-hearted attempts to discredit the qualifications of the Senators which the Prime Minister has recommended that the Governor General appoint since December 2008. Certainly these disputes seem to have little impact on the political fortunes of the Prime Minister’s party.
That we are not accustomed to having this kind of discussion certainly does not mean that we can not or should not do so. Nor does the fact that Senators are not directly (or indirectly) elected by us mean that we should not see them as responsible to us. Advocates of Senate reform who argue that electing Senators would at last make them responsible to Canadians ignore the fact that Senators already represent Canadians. It may be the case that the Senate would better represent us if it were elected, or it may be, as sceptics have argue that they would do far worse.
There are persuasive arguments to be made about why it is that we should want Senators to continue doing exactly what they are doing now: carefully considering (and amending where necessary) legislation passed by the House, proposing its own legislation and conducting its own studies (usually on issues too politicized or sensitive to be properly examined in the House). Likewise, there are equally persuasive arguments about why the importance of these functions mean that the Senate should in fact be directly elected.
For instance, Steven Fletcher, the minister responsible for democratic reform, recently reintroduced a bill which would create eight year term limits for all Senators appointed since the last general election. If we believe that high turnover is good for the Senate because it prevents Senators appointed by a past government from stalling the legislative agenda of a government of a different party and it ends the tradition of the Senate being a “plum” appointment, then we should support this change. If we believe, however, that the best Senators (that is those who make the most useful contribution to chamber and committee work) are those who are the most experienced, particularly those whose experience has lasted through several governments, preferably governments of different parties, then we should oppose this change.
Aside from the mention of “democratic values” in the preamble to the bill, the government has provided no substantive justification why term limits would help Senators better accomplish what it is that they wish it to do. The opposition has done no better. What matters in debates about Senate reform is defining what it is that we want from the Senate. Until we can do that, debates about term limits or methods of election will remain wholly academic because the ones which we select if and when we reform the Senate will depend entirely on what we want Senators to do.
