CANADA’S EXISTENTIAL CRISIS, THE NEED TO DO SOMETHING DIFFERENT, AND THE PERILS TO JOURNALISM
Vol. 1, No. 35
In this edition, your vexed correspondent identifies what’s to blame for America’s descent into we’re not sure what, points to the need for us to do something different in our own election and serves up the voice of experience for aspiring sportswriters.
This week: An 8-minute read
WHAT FAILED THEM
The evening before last November’s U.S. election, the hosts and guest pundits on American cable newscasts were telling viewers that election might well be one of the most consequential in American history. At stake, they said with gravitas without trying to sound hysterical, was the very future of the republic as a democratic nation.
On one side was the safe harbour of normalcy and prudence, a continuation of the dominant role in global affairs held by Americans since the last world war and represented by a woman who was the daughter of immigrants yet sported a record of great accomplishment. On the other side was an agent of chaos, a felonious white male with a visceral dislike for and suspicion of immigrants, illegal or otherwise, a guy who had earned a reputation as a rogue actor in his previous stint in the White House, and who promised more of the same, only with a more authoritarian bent.
I can remember thinking at the time the U.S. always does the right thing (after, in the words of Churchill, “exhausting all other options”) and that voters would step back from the precipice once faced with such a stark choice.
I was wrong. We all know what’s happened since.
By no means should we expect American voters to make their electoral determinations based on what is good or bad for Canada. Although most of us here knew what was in store for Canada should the Republicans win, most Americans probably did not, especially given how disjointed the mass communications there have become. Yet they certainly knew where the Republican leader stood and what he wanted to do, and in the end decided that’s what they wanted, too.
Nowadays, there are any number of American citizens who will tell you that this isn’t their president, or that this isn’t what they voted for, and that they are really, really sorry this is happening.
Well, you know what? Elections have consequences, and somebody voted for this guy. A lot of somebodies: 77,302,580 to be precise. And it’s small comfort when it gets pointed out that 77 million does not constitute a majority. It doesn’t matter. Besides, they’re not to blame, at least not entirely. Who is? Supporters of the Democrats. Their vote count was down by 6 million from 2020. Never mind the half of them that switched to the Republicans in 2024. They had their reasons, like the price of eggs at the supermarket. It’s the other half, the other 3 million. In the most consequential of elections, they stayed home. They didn’t vote. If they had, maybe the woman would have won. Maybe that she was a woman was the problem. Their mistake.
Our mistake in all this was in assuming they all felt about us the same way we felt about them.
OUR EXISTENTIAL ELECTION
Now it’s our turn—and whether we vote for the Liberals or the Conservatives, or one of the other parties—it’s important that we do something differently, something better.
Gone should be the days when one party or the other could win an election by simply giving 35 or 40 per cent of the country what it wants and to hell with the rest. Gone should be the days when Jean Chretien could win the seats he’d need by running against Alberta and Ralph Klein; or when Stephen Harper could win almost entirely on the strength of sweeping the vote west of Ontario.
Most of us, maybe just about all of us, are looking for a vision that knits the entire country together, that serves a common cause, where—in the words of Globe and Mail editor-in-chief David Walmsley—good policies are also good politics.
This is an opportunity not only to do something for ourselves, but something that will go a long way toward shielding us from the worst excesses of the scary clown show that’s in for an extended run next door.
ON THE OTHER HAND
“More than any other time in history, mankind faces a crossroads. One path leads to despair and utter hopelessness. The other, to total extinction. Let us pray we have the wisdom to choose correctly.”―Woody Allen
MORE ‘DEAR TERRY’ LETTERS
Re ‘Fail to the Chief,’ March 23. Thanks for the H.L. Mencken quote, Terry. It made me smile. Things change, get worse and get better. Nothing is ever solid—and our job is to learn how to fly in this mess. Adèle Fontaine, Edmonton, Alberta
Re ‘All Too Sad, All Too Often,’ March 23. Terry, it seemed strange reading about your high school friend Larry, who had passed away without you being aware. Let's make a deal now to text each other on our way out. Larry Carrick, Puce, Ontario
Ed. Note: Deal, Larry. Makes me mindful of the pact between my mum’s twin brothers. Both Uncle Harry and Uncle Jimmy agreed, “I won’t go to your funeral if you don’t go to mine.” They kept that promise, too.
Hello Terry. There is something unnerving about learning of a friend’s death after the fact. For many years I was involved in the nephrology world. Through that process, I met a doctor named Pat Brophy, who was doing some research for me at the University of Michigan. Pat was the son of a Saskatchewan bush pilot, and he was fucking brilliant. Before the age of 50, he became the dean of pediatrics at the University of Rochester and did internationally acclaimed research on in vitro kidney development. More importantly, he was a great guy. A year ago, I was reading the prospectus for the annual American Society of Nephrology meeting. The meeting begins with the reading of the names of members who have died since the last meeting. There was Pat Brophy’s name. I almost fell off my chair. It took me weeks to get over it. Pat died in 2023 of lymphatic cancer. At the time of his death, he had accepted the position of head of pediatrics for the Province of Saskatchewan. He was coming home. It is a different kind of shock to learn about a death this way and through some mechanism of human emotion, it is more profound. Walter O’Rourke, Fergus, Ontario.
JOURNALISM’S FUTURE
No shameless plug this week. Instead, we offer this view of contemporary journalism from John Wawrow.
For the past 25 years, John has worked for the Associated Press in Buffalo, and in that time has become one of the preeminent sportswriters in the U.S. Since his “beat” includes the Buffalo Bills and Sabres, his work also appears frequently in Canadian newspapers, especially in the Globe and Mail. He is also host of a popular radio show in Buffalo.
How do I know John? More than 35 years ago we worked together. Our family once owned a trio of community newspapers in southwestern Ontario; John was a reporter for the Tilbury paper and was later the editor of our paper in Belle River. Both publications were named the No. 1 and No. 2 best newspapers in their circulation class in Canada in 1989. John’s contributions played a significant role in those achievements.
Recently, writes John, he was asked to address a friend’s class of aspiring sportswriters. This is an abridged version of his remarks.
I know Tim wants me to talk about The AP here. But since I’ve got a captive audience of young aspiring journalists, I find it necessary to say something further in what stands as the most politically charged and divisive climate in my nearly 62 years on this earth, and the direst time facing journalism in my 40 years in the business.
With dwindling readership and people consuming much of their news off headlines, podcasts and mere snippets of posts on social media, my hope is there will always be a place to turn where the standards of journalism,
aspiring to the truth and fairness, are and remain unyielding.The AP isn’t perfect. No outlet is because in the end humans are behind it, and humans make mistakes. But I pride myself in working for a news company that has stuck to its standards in the wake of intimidation.
And by that, I’m referring to The AP essentially being barred from the Oval Office because it won’t follow an executive order that applies only in the U.S. over the renaming of the Gulf of Mexico.
Words matter today. They always have.
And I don’t give a crap that this is a sports journalism class. If you think you can escape all the political stuff and hide behind the stick-to-sports crowd, then maybe this business isn’t for you or maybe you need to remove the blinders. Sports and politics has been intermixed since the beginning of time, and relevant to whatever you might be covering.
Consider the so-called Nazi Olympics in 1936 under Hitler. Want something more current? Just look to the NFL and Colin Kaepernick.
Last week, I was in Brantford, Ontario, to do a piece on the rising debate over Wayne Gretzky’s reputation in Canada and in his hometown over his ties to the U.S. President and his silence at a time Canada’s sovereignty is being challenged. I was able to talk with people on both sides and presented both views in a 1,200-word piece.
Whether you can guess my political affiliations in the story I hope is hard to tell, because the point of the piece was not to be subjective, but rather objective in providing perspective and letting the readers come to their own conclusions.
There’s places to be subjective in columns and opinion pieces. But even those must be approached from a foundation of truth. Start with the facts and go from there.
This is the lens you should be looking through when pursuing a career in this business, because otherwise you’re simply aiming to be a mere entertainer on a soapbox however big or, more than likely, small. For every Jim Rome or Paul Bissonnette out there, there are hundreds of dozens of people talking out of their asses from the basement of their parents’ home, which is generally as far as they’ll get.
There’s no real glamour in this business, I hate to tell you. It’s hard work and long hours and tedious fact-checking and research that’s always required from you.
And the reward comes not just from the paycheque, but more so in the satisfaction you enjoy, however brief, of being able to look yourself in the mirror for another day, until you begin your next assignment.
That’s it till next week. / T.
© Terry McConnell, 2025
Please note: Artificial intelligence was not used in the preparation or writing of any part of this newsletter.