Doing our part

            In her Christmas message, Queen Elizabeth spoke of the importance of service to others, of reaching out beyond our familiar relations and putting the common good before our own personal interests. Her discussion of duty arose in the context of the volunteers for the Olympic Games (oh, sorry, make that “London 2012”), the fire, police and hospital servicepeople, and the military folk, all of whom give up great swaths of their time in the name of something larger than themselves.

            Relating this issue to the story of Christmas, our monarch reminded us that Jesus was sent to earth to serve, not to be served; greater than to receive a gift is to give one. (For those wondering why the Queen of Canada would speak of Jesus, remember that she is the head of the Church of England.) She specifically cited the last few verses of the Christmas carol “In the Bleak Midwinter”: “What can I give him, poor as I am? If I were a shepherd, I would bring him a lamb. If I were a wise man, I would do my part. Yet what I can, I give: my heart.”

            The verse about wise men struck a particular chord with me. Where are our wise people; what are they doing; and how are they benefitting the community? They are supposed to be doing “their part,” but they seem so invisible, so what part is that? Over the past few weeks, I’ve been reading Roch Carrier’s Le Rocket, in which Carrier explains how Maurice Richard sparked a sense of hope in French Canadians, and how Quebec society began to change during his days with the Canadiens de Montréal. A fascinating aspect of that book is the occasional appearances of some important and impressive political figures: when recounting the strikes in mining towns in Quebec, the young Pierre Trudeau, then a journalist, arrives on the scene to document the events. Later, Trudeau founds Cité Libre, a political journal that was very critical of Dupplessis’ politics. That journal was co-founded with René Lévesques. And near the end, Carrier himself writes personally to the editor of Le Devoir: Pierre Laporte. Charles Taylor, Canada’s most famous philosopher, ran for federal office in 1965, and lost to Pierre Trudeau. These were all very well educated people.

            The wise men of the day contributed to public life all those decades ago. But where are they now? In what riding do I get to choose between intellectual titans, each of whom I would be thrilled to have represent me on Parliament Hill? Sadly, they are all too few, and more often than not we elect one candidate simply because the others are even worse. Political discourse is the same humdrum of empty promises. We’re all very concerned about how much F-35s will cost, but our politicians never seem to address the issue of whether a greater military strength is the direction we want to take as a country. Is that really the Canada we want to build for the future?

            The public sphere needs its intellectuals to take a more active role in contributing to our society, because public discourse about values and about direction for our society is pitifully superficial, when it takes place at all. That is not to say that we should turn over such discussions to the high-priced help, tossing the discussions to the intellectuals and butting out: what we need is inclusive public discourse that doesn’t fall back into obscure jargon and technical terms, which most people neither understand nor care about (and rightfully so).

            Our society invests in its intellectuals through the public funding of higher education, though there’s less and less of that funding with each day, as this province knows only too well after the events of this past year. We say a lot about what’s a fair share for students to pay to supplement the public investment in education, but when do we ever talk about what the society gets for the money it puts in? It’s important for intellectuals to offer a return on that investment. It’s a matter of duty.