Justice is a three-sided coin

(July 3, 2020)

CIVILIZATIONS are based on a variety of structures that combine power and authority. Putting those two things together, however, can mean truth is a dangerous commodity.

When people object to the way they are being treated by authority, trouble starts. Power does not respond well to a challenge of any kind — especially if it reflects facts it doesn’t want to admit.

Lately, we have seen stark examples of how such structures react to the challenges that truth presents. #BlackLivesMatter put the spotlight on systemic racism, with global reactions to the death of George Floyd. Wearing a mask to slow the spread of pandemic disease has become a political act, especially in the U.S. Protesting ecological destruction, or even just protecting water and soil, will soon be a crime in Alberta (and perhaps, eventually, here). Economic recovery is placed ahead of the health and well-being of ordinary people, as environmental regulations are ignored or rescinded.

Resistance to these structures of power and authority doesn’t begin because of what journalists say, however. A free press just communicates the message, multiplying what a group of people, somewhere, has chosen to challenge. This is why speaking truth to power is a dangerous exercise, putting journalists in the crosshairs of angry authority — perhaps even risking injury or death — for doing their jobs.

Every year, more and more journalists are beaten or killed, making the work of journalists almost as dangerous that of environmental defenders, who die by the hundreds every year around the world, trying to protect the Earth and their homes.

This year, World Environment Day on June 5 passed almost without notice here in Manitoba. It was also the day thousands of Winnipeggers demonstrated peacefully against racism and in support of the #BlackLivesMatter movement, giving that day a different focus this year for environmentalists, as well.

There is a simple reason for the lack of conflict between these two causes: there will be no racial justice without ecological justice. They are two sides of the same coin. In fact, we should make it a three-sided coin, so you can add in social justice, as well. Each of them requires the other two, if we are going to change those structures, those systems, that combine power and authority in ways that threaten our global future together.

When leaders would rather listen to the ideological voices in their heads than the common sense of people in the streets, however, it is time for them to step aside — before they are simply set aside.

Fear of criticism is a sign of insecurity, not of conviction. It is fear the critics are right and you are wrong, so it is easier to ignore their voices, tune them out, shut them down, deny them the chance to speak — and, if that doesn’t stop them, then tear gas, truncheons and bullets should do the trick. You can always arrest and punish those who persist.

Yet few (if any) revolutions have resulted from some well-executed master plan. Instead, it is something small, a pebble rolling downhill, that provokes an avalanche of change.

The convenience store clerk in Minneapolis who called police because George Floyd had supposedly given them a fake $20 bill could never have imagined the global impact of such a minor decision.

It was a citizen’s cellphone, once again, that captured video of what happened and shared the news — not the journalists.

Yes, racism is systemic — because, otherwise, common sense and ordinary humanity would have eliminated it.

Social inequality is also systemic — because, otherwise, kindness and generosity would have made it disappear.

Ecological injustice is systemic, too, because if people respected the Earth around them and within them, there would be no other colour in our lives than green.

Yet if racial, social and ecological injustice are left unchallenged, accepted and embedded in the institutions of our society, then trouble is surely coming. Without warning, something small, whether local or global, will trigger a pent-up avalanche of change.

When that happens, everything familiar will be swept away — the good with the bad — and life will be forced to begin again amidst the rubble of what used to be. That “new normal” people talk about may be better than the old one, but not necessarily.

So, we need to speak truth to power — in the press, in the boardroom, in the law courts, and in the chambers of political authority.

That truth must be about racial justice, about social equality, about care for the Earth.

If these truths continue to be ignored, discounted or suppressed, then one day some small, otherwise insignificant event will be the spark that ignites a revolution whose outcome no one can predict.

Change doesn’t need to happen that way, but given the continued arrogance and privilege of those in authority today, it too easily could.

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“Recovering” Albertan feels the need to apologize

(March 11, 2020)

SINCE Jason Kenney became premier of Alberta, I have had this urge to apologize for being born there.

Claiming the bully pulpit of “speaking for all Albertans,” especially when ranting about pipelines, Kenney’s first legislation this year, Bill 1, would make any blocking or interference with “essential infrastructure,” into a major crime, subject to thousands of dollars in fines and jail time.

What’s more, anyone (like me) or any corporation (like this newspaper) that “aids, counsels or directs,” another person to take part in such interference — whether or not anyone listens — would also be liable to arrest and prosecution. Fines for corporations go as high as $200,000 — and the directors of corporations are individually liable for prosecution, too. Any environmental organization and the Winnipeg Free Press (actually, any free press) could be prosecuted under this blanket legislation.

Just to be sure everyone gets Kenney’s petulant rage at pipeline protests, every single day any “essential infrastructure,” is blocked constitutes a separate offence.

What is “essential infrastructure,” you ask? Essentially anything that has ever been made or built. If someone blocks or interferes with something not on Kenney’s list (such as a play structure in a park), the Lieutenant Governor in Council has the right to designate it as “essential infrastructure,” too.

Take that, you dastardly defenders!

I suspect that Bill 1 violates the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, as well as running utterly afoul of common law, but that legal reality won’t make a dent in his fossil-fuelled rhetoric.

Kenney seems bent on recreating Alberta as a fascist petro-state, and so — taking a page from North Korea’s playbook — he is trying to convince Albertans that they need to hunker in the bunker against all the evil forces of the outside world. Whether or not the first charge laid under this law is tossed out on its ear, Kenney’s apparent intention is to threaten, exclude and otherwise punish anyone who does not fit into his vision of Fortress Alberta.

Like the rants of politicians elsewhere, Kenney’s outbursts would be asinine if they were not so dangerous. This is why I feel the urge to apologize for being born in Alberta, because it’s not the province I remember, nor does Kenney represent the Albertans I knew.

I grew up with a good dose of Western energy alienation, the heritage of the “fuddle-duddle” language and finger gestures of Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s father. If I’d been old enough to drive a car, I would have happily bumper-stickered it with “Let the Eastern Bastards Freeze in the Dark” the way others did.

But these things were irritants of a long history of being out West, a minor part of the identity that took people — often by economic necessity — from the familiar roil of urban life or the smell of the sea and dropped them into the foothills to create a new life.

No one survived for long as a rancher or a dry-land farmer in Alberta, however, if they were not utterly pragmatic and able to dream, too. Big sky, big dreams, and a lot of hard work every day. That’s the Alberta I remember.

We left there just as the oil boom hit Turner Valley. People from elsewhere poured in, looking for get-rich-quick opportunities in the oil industry and its hangers-on — people, in fact, like Jason Kenney, who arrived in his 20s, after the economic bust of the 1980s.

He might claim to speak for all Albertans now, but he was born in Oakville, Ont., in sight of the large car and truck assembly plants. With the smell of petrochemicals in his nostrils and its toxins in his blood, like everyone else who lived there, it’s no wonder Kenney was drawn to the Alberta oil patch and its co-dependant urban sprawl: it reminded him of his childhood home.

It takes more than a Stetson and a photo op flipping flapjacks at the Calgary Stampede to make you a local, however. Alberta needs to find another, better path — one that respects its roots in the land, under the big sky, honouring the Indigenous peoples there as well as those people from away who helped to create the province with every crop they planted and every herd they tended.

The pragmatist knows that the days of oil must soon be over — and that means in Alberta, too. Their children and grandchildren will inherit the same future as everyone else.

But the dreamer wants to find hope in the midst of that struggle for a just transition from oil to whatever comes next. Kenney’s rants — and Bill 1 — are a cruel denial of creativity and optimism, replacing them with bitterness and rancor instead.

So without further apology, after 50 years of provincial oil addiction, call me a recovering Albertan. Put away the petulance, Premier Kenney, and do your job properly — for all real Albertans.

Activist and author Peter Denton is Albertan by birth and Manitoban by choice.

Pointed questions for visiting PM

(January 18, 2020)

If I could ask Prime Minister Justin Trudeau and his cabinet one question before their Winnipeg retreat this weekend, it would be: “Would you shoot the children?”

I admit this is a brutal way to start a column. But it does cut away the fluff and go straight to the heart of the problem.

As this is being written, RCMP officers in full tactical gear have barricaded the traditional territory of the Wet’suwet’en in British Columbia, and blocked journalists from entering the area. We don’t know what orders have been issued around the potential use of lethal force against anyone who breaches their lines.

Forget the unresolved issues of Indigenous land claims, the court cases still unfolding, the opinion of human rights tribunals, and any other number of issues. The pipeline goes through. Period.

Forget the climate crisis, the need to keep the oil in the ground, and especially forget we signed the Paris Agreement to limit global warming. Ignore the fires in Australia — and ignore that, except for a miracle, the same fires could have burned in dry northern Manitoba this past summer. Spin the issue of carbon tax some more, offer smoke and mirrors, distract the crowds with bread and circuses, and make sure the pipeline goes through. Period.

Around the world, children are staying out of school, by the millions, to strike for the climate. Greta Thunberg became the face of that global movement, but there are many other young people, including right here in Canada, who will fight just as hard for their future.

But what does that mean? Will it mean the kind of civil action that #ExtinctionRebellion has led elsewhere? Does it mean there will be demonstrations, blockades, protests — attempts to block pipeline construction, among other things?

Of course, it will. The global system is not working. We are literally burning up our children’s future and yet somehow still avoid dealing with what is so obvious to them. There are very few predictions of what lies ahead past 2050, when today’s teenagers will only be middle-aged. We don’t even talk about that nightmare, anymore.

Young people can see we are not making decisions that respect the land and all of the children of Earth, as we should. Forget considering the seventh generation — we can’t even manage to care for the next one.

Because of our lazy luxuries, our sluggish and indolent response to the climate crisis, their future — and that of their own children and grandchildren — is going up in flames, as surely as that Australian bush.

Why should we expect them to say nothing, in response? Why should we expect them to do nothing, either?

Thankfully, the protests so far are non-violent — the next generation has learned what happens when popular opposition resorts to violence. The young people march instead.

But when young people take to the streets in increasing numbers, as they will — supported by the adults who care for them and understand their concerns for the future — what will our leaders do?

Will they order out the riot police, in mirrored helmets, to beat them down with clubs? Gas them? Use water cannons? Fire rubber bullets to maim them? Perhaps shoot to kill?

Before you say such things could never happen here, remember how the Harper government dealt with the G20 protests in Toronto a decade ago.

When unjust social or environmental policies are enforced by the machinery of the state, confrontation is inevitable. People may get hurt or die as a result. Situations such as the one on Wet’suwet’en land are the result of our failure to find another, better way forward, one that not only respects everyone involved, but offers ecological justice, too.

Political leaders who raise their own children to respect other people and the Earth they share can expect tough days ahead, because the next demonstration may see their own kids in the front row, walking toward those same riot police.

One way or the other, children are preparing for the future we have created for them. They would be in school, studying, if we had solved the climate crisis. But the fact they are on the streets instead is a sign of our failure, our cowardice, our hypocrisy — and what’s worse, makes me wonder about our apparent willingness even to use force against them rather than change the course of our society toward a sustainable future.

So, Trudeau, as the movement for climate justice grows, do you plan to deploy RCMP tactical squads or the Canadian Armed Forces to suppress Canadians, including children who object to government policies or protest government inaction?

Or will you publicly commit, here in the Heart of the Continent, to finding another way, one without such dangerous potential for us all?

Dance on a cliff, and someone certainly will fall.

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