Since the devastating news of Chuck Strahl’s passing was announced, tributes have poured in. Repeatedly, words like “principle,” “integrity,” and “decency” have been used to describe him.
Eulogies rightly highlight the positive contributions one made while on this earth and downplay the human foibles that must also make up one’s existence. But with Chuck, these words don’t simply capture the apex of his being. They get at the core of who he was. To have known him, even fleetingly, was to know you were engaging with a unique person who embodied the best of us and lived these virtues in a quotidian way. These words defined him, and in turn, he defined them.
Yuval Levin’s 2020 book, A Time To Build, lays out a compelling thesis that much of our social and political ills today are the result of our institutions having been corrupted. Where once society’s cornerstones—government, academia, the media, etc.—functioned to mould individuals into instruments who could then contribute back to those bodies and broader society, they are now co-opted by those same people, employed as mere platforms to build personal profiles.
The root of Chuck’s integrity and decency was a humbleness informed by an abiding understanding of his role within the institutions that made him: his faith, his family, his community, and the government. Despite having played an incredibly consequential role in modern Canadian politics and assuming some of the highest offices in the land, he never behaved to satisfy his ego or commit acts of self-aggrandizement. You could spend months on end with him and never hear him tell a single war story, a legislative accomplishment he was at the centre of (of which there were many), an interesting anecdote about an interaction with the prime minister, or an impressive yarn of a foreign trip.
Instead, in those quiet moments in his office or en route to a meeting, you’d hear stories about the love of his life, Deb, the joys of parenting, the lessons he learned from his father, and his formative years working in the family lumber business in interior B.C. He never forgot that he was first and foremost a servant to those institutions that formed him, and it was a role he greatly relished.
For anyone who spent any time with Chuck in a professional capacity, you would hear him say not infrequently, “We do the right thing.” Oftentimes, this was somewhat in jest, a quiet nod to the trade-offs that come with compromise, an essential part of politics. But it also served as a constant northern star. A big, burly, bear of a man, he would regularly tear up when in pursuit of doing what he believed was just or simply being a sympathetic ear.
Beyond being a moral giant, Chuck was just a heck of a guy to be around. To be in his presence was a complete joy—the twinkle in his eye before he landed a joke (which was frequent), his beautiful baritone voice that he utilized in off hours in a barbershop quartet, the knowledge that you were always being heard and seen. Yes, Chuck was surely in politics out of a sense of duty. But he clearly also had a passion and love for many of the aspects of the job, including engaging with colleagues from all parties, mentoring young staffers, and working closely with the civil service on some of the most pressing issues of the day.
Perhaps because of his deep sense of purpose and general love for life, Chuck was very slow to anger. Quite tellingly, one of the times I saw him the most cross was on the first day we met. He had just been appointed minister of Transportation and Infrastructure after having been minister of Indian and Northern Affairs. From a staffer’s perspective, the early days after a shuffle are incredibly unnerving. The office consists of those who move with a minister to the new post and those who are holdovers from the old administration—and no one is quite certain what their new role will be and how the teams will ultimately mesh.
Chuck was bringing these two camps together, sharing his general approach to work and his expectations of us. Much of it was simply inspiring until he turned to the subject of what he would not tolerate. He explained that, while he doesn’t want sycophants and demands a multitude of views to be expressed, under no circumstances would he allow for petty infighting and backstabbing. It was made abundantly clear that anyone who engaged in such disrespectful and deleterious practices would not have a home in his office. As he went on, he became more and more animated to the point of agitation. He was a man so committed to his values that a mere hypothetical infraction of them was enough to inflame him.
It’s hard to relay that anecdote without addressing the seminal role he played in the founding of the modern Conservative Party. In 2000, concerned with the direction of the Canadian Alliance, Chuck left the party and joined the splinter group, emerging as the parliamentary leader of the Democratic Representative Caucus. Were it not for this bold move, it is unclear whether Stephen Harper would have taken over the party and been in a position to merge with the Progressive Conservatives to form today’s Conservative Party of Canada.
But his role, while principled and done with his view of what was necessary long term, did require him to momentarily break with the political institution within which he operated. I worked for him a decade later. He never proactively discussed this period with me. When it happened to come up, though I never sensed regret on his part, there always seemed to me to be an expression of sadness for this temporary fissure and the pain it caused to do what he thought was right for the longevity and health of the overall movement.
There is so much to be learned and modeled from Chuck that cannot possibly be captured in a short piece. And so I will end with this: thirteen years ago, upon hearing of his impending retirement from politics, I sent him a personal note of gratitude. I closed by telling him somewhat jokingly how, when making a decision, I now ask “WWCSD”: what would Chuck Strahl do? But indeed, politicians of all stripes would do right by their constituents and the institutions in which they work if they kept Chuck front of mind when considering how they want to make the most of the immense privilege and responsibility of public service.
