What happens when we replace big government with big citizens? 

This week, while in Ottawa, I was grateful to participate in a panel event with Conservative MP Jamil Jivani at the Cardus Institute on the opportunities and challenges facing Canada.

One of the common themes of the night was the relationship between individuals and the state and the role of mediating institutions—like churches, unions, community groups, etc.—that have historically occupied the space between them. An underlying question might be summed up as follows: if the government withdrew from certain areas of social services, would what happen? Is civil society capable of refilling the unoccupied space?

This is by no means a new question. It’s been the subject of long-standing conservative discourse about the cause-and-effect between the decline of civil society and the rise of the welfare state in the twentieth century.

But it’s taken on a new relevance in the light of Conservative Party leader Pierre Poilievre’s ideas and arguments about the role of the state in society. The discussion got me thinking that his political agenda involves a major bet about the answer to the question.

Since first running for party leader, one of Poilievre’s most consistent lines of argument is that he wants to make Canada the freest country in the world. He’s also said that he favours “a small government and big citizens.”

These types of political aphorisms can sometimes be dismissed as standard fare conservative rhetoric. But in the context of our discussion at Cardus, they carry far greater meaning. They reflect, in a way, a challenge to Canadians.

Poilievre is essentially betting that there’s a nascent civil society capacity present in the country that has been weighted down by an overbearing state. And if the state is retrenched, this capacity is capable of filling spaces that for a long time have been dominated by government.

There’s some evidence to support such a bet. The relative effectiveness of Canada’s network of privately sponsored refugees compared to government-assisted refugees is a common example. Someone at the event cited the empirical evidence backing the Big Brothers/Big Sisters mentorship model as another.

But it must be said that Poilievre’s agenda is still somewhat risky. If the government reduces its role or pulls out of certain social services altogether and civil society doesn’t step up, there could be two big consequences.

O, to be able to gaze upon the latest internal party poll of the BC NDP. What harrowing revelations it must possess.

We have to believe the results are responsible for Premier David Eby performing first a gobsmacking U-turn on a consumer carbon tax, a policy principle he had presented as unshakeable, and then scant days later dusting off a long-forgotten, contentious policy proposal on involuntary treatment for addicts and the seriously mentally ill. Both moves, adopted in desperation as the price of contention, bail water from a ship in a storm, and each is absurdly off-brand.

The first item is a shocker—feels so even days later—and reeks of the sudden sweat of a once-confident leader facing the realistic prospect of loss. Think of it: how desperate would any NDP leader be to disavow a carbon tax? Oh, wait, sorry, there were two of them within about six hours. But Eby was about the last person one would expect to do this. He was adamant last November: “Let me be clear. We will not back down. God forbid, if the rest of the country abandons the fight against climate change, B.C. will stand strong.” His  new message pivots to “stand with people on affordability.”

Political survivalism is activated by an acute appreciation of threats, and Eby surely apprehends them. In such circumstances, anything by anyone can happen—as Eby’s off-the-cuff $2.6-billion answer to a reporter’s question attests. Asked what the province might do about its consumer carbon tax (17 cents a litre on gas, 15 cents a cubic metre on natural gas), now that federal leader Jagmeet Singh had earlier that day abandoned support for such a tax federally, Eby had a “hold my beer” moment. As long as Ottawa scraps the provincial requirement to tax carbon emissions, an Eby government would be out, he said. Journalists did one of those wabida-wabida head shakes, thinking there’s no way he just said what he said, right? This guy? Walking away from the carbon tax? Like, no way.

Way.

A little while later, the lanky premier and his wonky improv, still with no official announcement or news release in hand, wandered over to a local radio show and was pressed to explain how the NDP would abandon the economic fulcrum of the province’s policy on climate change: “We’ll have to figure out and work through all those pieces,” he replied. Operative word here being “all.”

No one had this development on their campaign bingo cards, though—probably not even Eby until roughly a few moments before.

The carbon tax was a B.C. creation under Gordon Campbell originally opposed by the NDP, who  beat Pierre Poilievre by more than a decade-and-a-half in coining the term “Axe The Tax.” They eventually came on board and seemed inexorably tethered to the idea. What was once a revenue-neutral tax under the BC Liberals is now a revenue-generating one under the NDP.

Polls have been telling the pols for about two years that affordability is the issue that matters, but what really matters are the internal polls telling the NDP it has lost the plot. The stagnant NDP and surging Conservatives enter the writ period (tomorrow!) in a statistical margin-of-error tie, a race now between Eby and momentum.

BC Conservative leader John Rustad had been proposing the elimination of the tax since he joined the party last year, taking abuse for this from Eby when his party was at about 4 percent in polling. Now somewhere in the mid-40s, he is a practical target for policy piracy.

Consider the second item, how once again Eby announced another proposal with few details. A civil liberties lawyer pre-politics, Eby in office at first opposed, then supported, then stalled, then supported the idea of involuntarily institutionalizing those with the most serious cases of mental illness and addictions—a kind of a flip-flop-flip if you’re keeping score.

Rustad’s commitment to the policy goes as far as to invoke the notwithstanding clause if the road gets rocky. Eby has cheesed off many of his old legal colleagues as well as a cohort of health experts who say the mandatory treatment program doesn’t work. But a series of random violent attacks on city streets on the eve of an election requires something, anything, as a proposed palliative.

These about-faces came after his government earlier in the week rather stealthily, and rather unapologetically, noted it plans to run up a record $8.9 billion deficit this current fiscal year. In the seven years of NDP reign, B.C. has gone from the best-performing economy in Canada to one of its worst.

The calculus is that these policy switcheroos will generate more forgiveness than fulmination in his base, more support than suspicion in his adversaries. Even if it only staunches the bleeding,  even if it sends some voters to the Greens, it spares the premier a campaign of defending an unpopular tax and pretending that the streets are safe from the troubled, ill,  and addicted. The appeasement may not be authentic, may be downright cynical, and will only be known to have worked (or not) through the rear-view mirror some time from now.

The two pre-campaign 180s have little in common with his party’s values today and have more to do with how his party is valued today. Eby has to hope there is a net positive to his repositioning, that a broader swathe of voters focus on where he has landed on the issues instead of where he long camped. Oh yes, and then there’s the authenticity thing and whether Eby can wear that suit comfortably. It reminds me of when comedian George Burns was asked what was the key to success: “The key is sincerity,” he said. “Once you can fake that…”

But the negatives are mounting. The safe reelection is no more. Even if Eby poached policy on the carbon tax and involuntary treatment, British Columbians cite many more issues about which they believe his government is on the “wrong track”: public safety, helping one’s financial well-being, health care, expenses, housing affordability, and the opioid crisis. The election will be a referendum on Eby’s swift push of the party to the Left.

Eby had a chance to call an election in 2022 when he was acclaimed party leader. He chose to honour the fixed election date and embark on a two-year-plus charm offensive. Today he must be wishing for time travel and a do-over.