can govern without being answerable to any of the constitutional checks and balances on prime ministerial authority. A prime minister in such an enviable power position will treat Parliament as a rubber stamp for his agenda, rather than a constitutional check on his government’s power.
1. The House of Commons
Those who advise the Crown must command the support of the democratically elected chamber. The lower house, the House of Commons, is the democratically elected chamber and it is, in theory, the primary body in holding the government to account. In sad reality, the House of Commons serves as a rubber stamp for a majority government’s agenda.
A House of Commons has existed since the thirteenth century when, following the signing of the Magna Carta, King John consented to submit his requests for increased taxes to an elected assembly. This elected legislature was designed specifically to represent the citizen taxpayers and provide a check against the Crown’s insatiable appetite for more taxes. Eight hundred years later, these constitutional requirements still apply — the Crown (the executive) cannot spend money that Parliament has not approved. Money bills must be introduced in the elected House of Commons, not in the appointed Senate. No private MP can introduce a bill or initiative that requires the Crown to commit funds without the express approval of the government or a royal recommendation.
However, the House of Commons, especially one in a majority setting, has long abandoned assigning any value to its role of serving as a check on government spending or of vetting proposed government initiatives or legislation. There is a simple reason why this is the case: the members of the governing caucus think of themselves as part of the government, rather than a check on the government. They refer to the government using pronouns like “we” or as “our government.” They go home on weekends armed with talking points and prewritten op-ed pieces to submit to local newspapers praising the government’s performance and virtue. They show up at government-funding announcements in their ridings (or in nearby ridings if the riding is not served by a member of the governing caucus), often with oversized novelty cheques (sometimes bearing the party logo) bragging and taking credit for the pork that has just been delivered.
These MPs are of no value in holding the government to account; they consider themselves to be part of the government. They do not even pretend to be a check on the government. On a good day, they are cheerleaders for the government; on a bad day, they are government apologists. On all days, they are part of the communications machinery of government, as opposed to critical reviewers of government proposals. And nowhere is this dereliction of duty in providing a check on government more evident than in the daily proceedings of the House of Commons.
The majority of the House of Commons’ day is spent debating government bills. The remainder is spent debating and voting on Opposition bills. One hour each day is reserved for debating private member bills or motions. However, most of the “debate” and all of the “votes” are so closely monitored, and, when necessary, orchestrated, by the Prime Minister’s Office that any separation between the executive and the legislative branches is purely illusionary. Government backbenchers are encouraged to deliver speeches in favour of government legislation and in opposition to Opposition motions (unless of course the government supports the Opposition motion, in which case its backbenchers are expected to do likewise). Almost all members read from prepared text. The PMO prefers this method; freelancing might result in someone going off script. The department sponsoring the government bill, or potentially affected by an Opposition motion, will prepare speaking notes or complete canned speeches. Members of Parliament uncomfortable with the role of actor, reading the playwright’s script, are encouraged to vet their own proposed comments with the designated government point person.
The entire process is a farce and resembles less of a debate than it does bad theatre. Not infrequently, a compliant parliamentarian will read a prepared text on a topic he or she is mostly unfamiliar with; that talk will be followed by a member from another party doing exactly the same thing, although staking out a different position. On several occasions, as a member of the Conservative caucus, I was handed a canned speech mere minutes before I was asked to present it, as the planned speaker had somehow been delayed. Literacy skills have replaced debating skills in what passes as a debate in the House of Commons.
It is almost unheard of for a member to address points raised by the previous speaker, which real debate would require. This is the obvious limitation of any “debate” advanced by prepared text, written by staffers, days before the “debate” has even commenced.
Eventually, the debate will collapse when there are no more speakers rising to participate or, more than likely, after the government has expedited the process by introducing a time allocation motion limiting further debate to a specified number of hours or days. Both the time allocation motion and then the vote on the merits of the bill or motion will be whipped. The party whips will produce voting instructions and actual instruction sheets will be distributed by parliamentary pages and placed on the desks of the elected MPs.
This is what parliamentary democracy has devolved into: elected MPs being issued voting instructions. So disengaged are many MPs that I have actually witnessed members confused as to what the current vote was and what the whipped party position was when multiple deferred votes are being taken. Too many times I have heard a disengaged member inquire of his or her neighbour: “Which vote are we on? We’re voting ‘yea,’ right?”
I am ashamed to disclose that your elected MP is frequently so disengaged that he is not only reliant on his party whip for his voting instructions, but quite possibly will also need to be coached by mates only slightly more engaged in the process.
Elizabeth May, then the sole Member of Parliament representing the Green Party, tells the story of MPs of various party affiliations inquiring of her as to how she decides how she is going to vote on any particular bill or motion. She replies that she reads the bill, studies it, consults with her constituents, sometimes asks questions of the sponsor, and then comes to her position. Incredulous, MPs from other parties exclaim about how labour intensive that must be and how much easier it is to simply follow the voting instructions provided by the party whips! Undoubtedly that is true. However, I believe most constituents would be shocked to discover that their elected representatives are voting automatons, often too disengaged to even follow what item they are voting on.
I do not mean to be too critical of the whipped party voting machine. Given the complete lack of efficacy of the individual parliamentarian in having any input into, let alone impact on, a process completely dominated by government and party operatives, they cannot be overly blamed for losing interest and becoming disengaged.
Of course, there is nothing particularly new about whipped votes per se. Whipped votes on matters of confidence are as common, and have existed for as long as there have been parties in Parliament. However, as with all matters regarding the erosion of parliamentary democracy and responsible government, it is the increased use of whipped votes that should concern defenders of democracy.
The Reform Party, and its successor, the Canadian Alliance, had a party policy of free votes. The original constitution of the Conservative Party of Canada promoted free votes, except in matters of confidence, budget votes, and votes on the expenditure estimates. After the 2008 CPC convention in Winnipeg, the words “and core government initiatives” were somehow added to the list describing the exceptions to the free vote presumption, although no one that I have talked to can recall that matter ever being debated or voted on. Regardless, that addition has allowed the government whip to declare essentially all matters as core government priorities, and, as a result, every vote on every government bill or motion is now a whipped vote.
This now even applies to procedural motions such as time allocations. This change surprised me when I was a member of the CPC caucus, because I am unfamiliar with any party policy priority, much less any key one, that states the Conservative Party of Canada will place limits on debate on non-urgent matters and use its parliamentary
