As The Herald’s newest intern, I’d like to introduce myself by sharing what I’ve been doing around here for the last week or so. 

So, what did my first few days look like? Running coffees and copying papers? Not exactly.

“Hi, Michael, I’m just grabbing the Premier — we’ve got about ten minutes!” A member of the Premier’s comms team tells me. Less time than I prepared for, but what odds.

Let’s talk about that!

Enter the Premier 

A couple of questions in, I’m feeling confident that everything’s going great. Well, in the “I didn’t break anything” kind of way, more so than the “I got the Premier to say words that mean something” kind of way. No surprises there. Then there was this:

Leading up to the election you had a comfortable lead in the polls, though you only won one more seat than you needed for a majority, do you think the polls had it…

“That’s not true. We have 22 plus a large plurality; I think that gets lost in the mix here. The next closest party is 13, so this is a real and firm mandate…”

I just meant that you had one more above what you needed for a majority, so 21 was what you needed for…

“A majority is a majority.” Is it though?

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The Premier talks of two things here: a majority and a plurality, both are true to some extent, but left as is that could be misleading. Initially, I thought that the Premier was suggesting I was wrong; that he had more than just one above what he needed for a majority, and he was just bad at math. Not so likely.

While this semantically holds water — compared to the next closest party they do maintain a more comfortable lead than my setup would suggest. However, the next closest party is not the only one with the power to vote no, so comparing your own party’s seats to that of the runner-up paints an incomplete picture — or more accurately, a more appealing frame.

Important enough to have its own heading, but simple enough to express in one paragraph. The difference between 22 and 13 is nine. The nine here represent the Liberals’ seat advantage over the PCs. But, 22 minus 21 is just one. One single-seat above the 21 required for a majority government. If you were the Premier, which would you lean into, and which would you slap down?

Perhaps, but would the premier be in a better position with more seats, and more room for detractors? There are two possibilities I can personally think of:

First, the Liberals may have identified a potential weakness and are trying to spin a slim majority into something I like to call “Majority Slims Plus — same slim majority, more on-brand embellishment.”

A new career

Second, to say the election was tumultuous has already become cliché — not a good start. It may be that the Premier’s election wins don’t represent his popularity and that he hopes to project a more popular appearance to hold the confidence of his electors and detractors. 

With enough effort from the opposition parties, and enough across the aisle lobbying, the potential for sabotage might be higher than his statements lead us to believe. Either that or this is a simple sign of a bone doctor seeking a new career as a spin doctor. 

Considering his assent to elected office, it seems that conclusion might be too little too late.

The longest election in the history of Newfoundland and Labrador has finally come to a close and the Premier has sworn in his new cabinet. 

As the dust following a tiring and tumultuous election settles on the ground across our beautiful province, many are wondering where we’re going from here. The Newfoundland Herald spoke with the Premier on topics from healthcare, our population, some election reflection, and more. Here’s what the Premier had to say.

Chubbs: After such a long election, what was on your mind while counts were rolling in? 

Furey: Like most Newfoundlanders and Labradorians, I wanted the election over, certainly the longest one in our history. I was hoping that I (could) get back to work as soon as I could. 

The people in Newfoundland and Labrador need a stable majority government to help navigate the rocky waters ahead. And that’s what we got. 

The election certainly was a turbulent one. And I was anxious to get back to work to start putting together a cabinet and start to lay out the vision and the strategies for the next four years to help reshape Newfoundland and Labrador.

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Chubbs: You won a majority government and unseated two party leaders. Was that the result you expected? 

Furey: “I’m not sure what I expected. To be honest, this is a very different time with the extension of the writ period. I appreciate that all candidates went through a high level of anxiety, their volunteers and their family members too. And I’ve never been one to make predictions. And so I wasn’t predicting anything,

 I was hopeful … for a majority government, again, so that we could have a stable footing to help redefine and re-imagine who we want to be as we emerge from this pandemic in this economic crisis and set the stage for a sustainable future for Newfoundland and Labrador.” 

Chubbs: COVID-19 revealed healthcare vulnerabilities in Labrador like the airstrip in Nain. Are there any plans to resolve some of those? 

Furey: So we met with the Nunatsiavut government in November and committed to working with them in concert with the federal government to provide an update on the airstrip. I’m not sure exactly where it is in the system now. But those were conversations that we had … and we’re looking forward to working with them towards that end.

Chubbs: Are there any plans to improve access to healthcare in Labrador in general?

Furey: Of course! We’re always looking at ways to improve healthcare, not just in Labrador West, but throughout the entire province. The reality of healthcare is that our communities have changed. And we need to make sure that the system is changing to meet the demands of the communities. And during the time of disruption, of course, no one wants to get COVID, but it has provided a significant disruption in all elements of our life, including healthcare, and we’ve recognized that perhaps we can … deliver care more efficiently … One example is the use of virtual care. 

It was developing all along, but it’s been catapulted to the forefront of how we can deliver different kinds of care and different services to people around the province. I think it’s also become abundantly clear, with new graduates coming from medical school, that they want to practice differently, perhaps, than people practiced before, so we need to make sure that the system is meeting the demands of all healthcare providers … so that we’re developing a team approach to providing health care. That will make it more attractive for doctors or nurses or pharmacists to go to communities, and then stay and develop a family.

Chubbs: If you had the ears of current medical students who have their eyes set on practicing elsewhere, what would you say to compel them to use their skills in Newfoundland? 

Furey: I would ask them to not consider that and to consider all that Newfoundland and Labrador has to offer. We have an incredibly bright future here – we have a good work-life balance. There’s lots of recreational activity, there’s lots that others don’t have. So if you’re attracted to downtown Toronto right now, I suggest you turn on the news and see how intense urbanization is working out there, whether it’s through the pandemic or the work-life balance. Newfoundland and Labrador, I think, provides a great opportunity for new grads to be able to practice the profession that they love … while living in sustainable communities (while raising) a family and to hit that work-life balance that many millennials in particular chase.

Chubbs: I read that you were looking to make bold, aggressive targets on immigration and re-imagining our population. What would that look like?

Furey: There’s no question that one of the biggest elements of the crisis touches on the economic crisis, and the health crisis that the province is facing … and the population/demographic crisis. And we have basically a population with almost 25 per cent approaching 65 or above, so exiting the workforce for the most part, and drawing most of the medical services that they require in retirement, but we don’t have that base of population to support them. 

So we need to make sure that we are targeting population growth through aggressive immigration strategies, in hitting not just our minimal goals, but making sure that we’re attracting immigrants from around the world to come, work here, play here, create economic opportunities here and raise a family here. But we also need to make sure that we’re developing those same opportunities for growth on our own with our youth and potentially displaced workers across the province. 

We want to make sure that we are aggressive in our immigration targets so that we can create economic opportunities in the workforce for the future of this province.

Chubbs: One driver of immigration is education. With the pandemic turning all that upon its head, are you worried that’s not going to be as reliable of a source of immigration going forward?

Furey: I think it still will be an incredible driver …  I don’t think we’ve realized the full value of that stream of potential new Newfoundlanders and Labradorians, and new Canadians bring to the province and we need to make sure that we have a more robust strategy than is perhaps in place right now to ensure that there is a pathway available for immigrants who are attending Memorial or post-secondary educational institutions across the province, to allow them to stay here. 

There are many that I know who have come here for an education as you suggest, and then are interested in staying. But often the barriers are too high to allow them to stay.

We need to, as a government, make sure that we’re doing everything we can to minimize those barriers to allow those that have been educated here to stay here and again, create economic opportunities in the diverse workforce that is needed for the future of the province.”

Chubbs: How are you going to take the bull by the horns for the next four years? 

Furey: Well, I think it’s most important that we’re bold in our thinking moving forward. I think everyone recognizes that there are challenges. But a challenge is an opportunity in disguise. And if we don’t see this time, as terrible as it’s been, as an opportunity to reinvent and re-imagine who we want to be as a people and what we want the economy to be … what we want the social fabric to be of Newfoundland and Labrador, then that will be a failure of immense proportions. 

We have tremendous challenges, but we have a tremendous opportunity to reset Newfoundland and Labrador moving forward. But we need to make sure that we’re balanced and measured in our approach. 

We need to make sure that we’re capitalizing on initiatives like transitioning to green energy. Oil and gas is incredibly important and will be for decades, but we need to use the value of that, to ensure that we can develop our capacity here to be the green battery that can potentially drive the northeastern seaboard. So those are some of the big kind of bold ideas that we were looking forward to rolling up our sleeves and getting to work on and including.

Chubbs: You’ve had the job for around eight months. Does it feel like eight years yet?

Furey: In a word, yes. But I enjoy it! I enjoy every minute of it. And I’m looking forward to the challenge. 

I’m looking forward to working with all Newfoundlanders and Labradorians so that we can really create the opportunities that we all know that are here in this province.

I suspect the result will drive both Ches Crosbie and Alison Coffin to the political sidelines. Ches Crosbie got off on the wrong foot with voters after the last election. On election night he had vowed to take down the Liberal Ball government and reached out to independents and the NDP to come on board. 

He also had harsh words for the Lieutenant Governor and concerns about the apprehension of bias. Somebody should have told Ches that election night was the time to get up on the high moral ground.

Now what happens?

This election night 2021, after defeat Mr. Crosbie had kind words for everybody, but it was too late for that. Besides, it was a taped address and on election night 2021 he never once appeared “live.” I don’t know who his political advisors were but he might try some new ones. There was also the platform of “Jobs. Jobs. And Jobs.” Everybody is for jobs. It’s a nice wish; not a platform.

NDP Leader Alison Coffin went on on election night about how poorly the election was run and how well her candidates had performed. In fact, she lost her own seat and after two elections under her leadership the prize for the NDP seems as far away as ever. Also, if you ask me, the call for a fifteen dollar minimum wage fell on mostly deaf ears. Everyone knows Newfoundland’s fiscal back is smack up against the wall. A call for a fifteen dollar minimum wage might just as well have been for a twenty five dollar minimum wage.  Newfoundland is scrambling to stay out of the “poor house.”

Now what happens? Will the Liberal government fall? Not a chance. It has a slim majority, but you know the three independents didn’t just wander in off the street. They are all former Liberals. Eddie Joyce is more Liberal than Joe Smallwood. They will be fine  – for now. 

Murky Future

I say for now because the massive financial obstacles that lie ahead are still there. The election didn’t change our murky future. Actually, it isn’t that murky. We have to stop spending money. That is the problem. If we don’t solve it, it will solve itself. Dame Moya Greene and her team will show us how to do it, but whether the political will to do it exists is a different matter.

A final thought about the election with all its faults. It’s clear who the electorate wanted as Premier and that was Andrew Furey.

NTV’s Jim Furlong can be reached by emailing: jfurlong@ntv.ca

Ryan Cleary reflects on the hardest things he had to do as Member of Parliament

Leading up to the federal election of 2011, I made it a point to assure voters I wouldn’t be a sheep in Ottawa, and I generally wasn’t, although I did, on occasion, give my best impression of a trained seal.
Like when MPs were wallpapered behind the Leader of the day (there were three over my term) before he/she delivered a speech of national significance. After every other sentence you were dutifully expected to jump up and flap your flippers at the sea of cameras, whistle if you could, definitely hoot and holler, smile and bob your head to the other seals around you — even if the words on the teleprompter were in French, and you had no idea what was being barked about.

Political Theatre
That’s political theatre, uncomfortable but understood. All of Ottawa’s a stage, and backbench MPs, too often, merely props.
But there’s nothing I hated more than being treated/herded like a sheep, and a prime example involved the strike at St. John’s International Airport that began in September, 2012.
The hardest thing I had to do as an MP was respect that picket line; the angriest I got was at the union leaders who didn’t; and the closest to death I came was broadsiding a moose on the drive to the Gander airport.
When the strike began, a decision was made that the two NDP MPs for Newfoundland and Labrador – Jack Harris and I – would fly out of Gander instead of St. John’s every week for the duration of the labour dispute, so as to not cross the line. I immediately went off my head.

Defending unions
I knew the strike would be a long one (it lasted 10 months), impacting my ability to do my job in the Commons (which included defending unions from constant Conservative attack). I knew the drive to Gander was at least three hours each way in good weather, and brutal in winter (and dark). I knew flying out of Gander would mean more taxpayer expense, and even more time away from my family.
I was also well aware of the number of moose on the highway and the risk of collision.
But the main reason I lost my mind was because the decision to fly out of Gander was made without my input. No one bothered to ask my opinion.
The then-Leader of the federal New Democrats, Nycole Turmel (who took over after Jack Layton), was a former president of the Public Service Alliance of Canada, the same union that represented the strikers at St. John’s airport.
The PSAC came to an agreement with the Leader’s Office that the picket line would be respected and that was that. Jack Harris most definitely had a say; he was the party’s point man for the province. The resulting decision was a foolish one that nearly cost me my life.
On a misty, foggy evening in late October while driving from St. John’s to Gander, I hit a moose – broadside – in Terra Nova National Park.
I had only a single thought before striking the animal – if it comes through the windshield, I’m dead. The moose tumbled over the hood and, luckily for me, somersaulted over the windshield.
A Toyota Echo was travelling behind me and the occupants – a mother, father and 17-year-old daughter heading home from a volleyball tournament in St. John’s – said the moose (a cow weighing between 800 and 1,000 pounds) flew end over end.
The Jeep was almost totalled ($8,000 in damage) and covered in fur, but no one was hurt.
A few months later I met with the heads of several trade unions from the province who had travelled to Ottawa for their lobby days.
Near the end of the meeting, I learned they had flown out of St. John’s airport, crossing the picket line – and I unleashed a torrent of curses that were heard back in Newfoundland. They apologized, and acknowledged that they should have respected the St. John’s picket line, but said it was too expensive and time consuming to fly out of Gander.
MPs and Senators from the Liberal and Conservative parties never stopped flying in and out of St. John’s. Their shepherds were sensible.

Upside of respect
The upside of the sacrifices I made in respecting the airport picket line for 10 months was the fact that it placed me in better stead with the province’s labour unions.
My relationship with them was generally always a good one (I had served as shop steward of The Telegram’s editorial department for the better part of a decade), but that didn’t hold true for the Fish, Food and Allied Workers’ union.
My connection with the FFAW had been strained over the years by a series of critical articles and columns I had written about such subjects as the so-called “union boat.” A company with close ties to the FFAW – the Offshore Fish Resource Harvesters Inc. – had built a fishing vessel in the early 2000s at the Glovertown Shipyard, and some fishermen charged the union was in a conflict of interest, competing against its own membership for quota. They also questioned where the profits went.
There were calls for the federal Auditor General of Canada to investigate, calls that I reported on, treading where other journalists feared or refused to tread. (The FFAW has strong ties to local media to this day.)

Prosser’s Rock
As MP for St. John’s South-Mount Pearl, I was regularly criticized for commenting on fisheries issues when my riding was an urban one (Mount Pearl is landlocked). But the riding also took in the province’s largest fishing fleet at the Prosser’s Rock small-boat basin on the southside of St. John’s harbour, and I was the only Newfoundland and Labrador MP to serve on the House of Commons Standing Committee on Fisheries and Oceans over the term.
Fishermen from around the province complained to me that the FFAW was no longer a union so much as a corporation. While the fishery had contracted since the early 1990s when the northern cod moratorium was introduced, the union itself seemed to be thriving – growing in staff and spending more than $3 million on a new headquarters.
There were charges that the FFAW was in a conflict of interest by accepting money from Ottawa to oversee various fisheries programs on one hand, while expected to hold the federal government to account on the other hand.
The question was, how much federal money was the FFAW being paid?
I set out to learn the answer through a parliamentary tool known as Order Paper Questions. Between the jigs and reels, I confirmed that the FFAW receives millions of dollars a year from the federal government. For example, the union was paid almost $7.5 million alone between 2011 and 2014 to administer the Atlantic lobster sustainability measures program.
In the spring of 2014, I confronted Earle McCurdy, long-time president of the FFAW, with the information, asking him directly whether the union was in a conflict.
He denied it, and that was that.
McCurdy resigned from the FFAW that fall, announcing in January 2015 he would run for leadership of the provincial NDP. My immediate reaction was to run against him — not because I wanted the job so much as I thought he would be a mistake.

Broken fishery
The broken fishery did not heal under his leadership, and as the fishery goes, so goes the future of Newfoundland and Labrador. From my perspective, the FFAW is in a conflict and an independent review of its relationship with the federal government should be carried out. Jack Harris wasn’t pleased that I was considering a shot at the provincial leadership, telling me I wouldn’t win. The FFAW, he said, was too well organized, and, on top of that, we’d lose the federal riding of St. John’s South-Mount Pearl without me as candidate.
I pulled out and reluctantly endorsed McCurdy, making sure to point out “we had our differences.” Which was putting it mildly.

I’m not sure what rattled me more – the ridiculous charges levelled against me, or being stripped of my speaking privileges in the House of Commons.
Regardless, I ended up storming out of a “disciplinary meeting” held in early November, 2013 while Tom Mulcair’s then chief of staff, Raoul Gebert, was still in mid-sentence.
“I’m not sitting here listening to this,” I told him over my shoulder as I stormed out of the Opposition Leader’s Office, or OLO as it’s referred to on Parliament Hill in Ottawa. “You’re way out of line.”

Giving away its fishery
The meeting began with Gebert expressing the party’s deep displeasure over concerns I had shared with the media regarding the tentative Canada/European Union free-trade deal.
More specifically, a Globe and Mail article in which I had outlined my fear that Newfoundland and Labrador was “giving away its fishery” by surrendering Minimum Processing Requirements as part of the deal. MPRs dictate that fish landed in the province must be processed here, in the interest of protecting local fish plant jobs.
“I have to stand up for my province when I see something that could have such massive impact on rural communities,” read my Globe quote. “Giving up Minimum Processing Requirements is a big deal, but it’s being treated like it’s not.”
The next paragraph was crystal clear.
“Mr. Cleary added that he supports his party’s position to remain neutral on the draft Canada-European Union Comprehensive Trade Agreement (CETA) until a final text is released.”
In other words (and this is critical in party politics), I was careful to tow the party line. Only the chief of staff didn’t see it that way.

Double standard
Gebert told me I should have gotten express permission from the NDP trade critic before opening my mouth to the national or local media (I had also related my concerns on VOCM’s Open Line). The party was paranoid of being seen as against the EU trade deal when it had been branded as “anti trade” for opposing most trade agreements in the past.
Meantime, further down in the same Globe article a Quebec MP said he was also concerned over the potential impact the EU trade deal could have on his riding’s dairy industry.
Only the Quebec MP wasn’t being disciplined – just me, the Newfoundland MP.
I was furious at the double standard, but managed to keep my cool (and seat), until Gebert brought up what I was later told was the real reason for the disciplinary meeting.
He raised the issue of the public meltdown in late October, a week or so earlier, of the Lorraine Michael-led provincial NDP back home in St. John’s, inferring that I had a hand in it.
All four members of the provincial NDP caucus had signed a letter calling for a leadership convention, a move that would require Michael to resign. The letter was leaked to the media and Michael went public, saying she felt blindsided and betrayed.
It was at that point in the disciplinary meeting that I tore out of the room. The last words I heard were that my speaking rights in the Commons were being suspended by the party for the remainder of the session. I was fit to be tied.
I knew of unrest within the provincial NDP – MHAs Dale Kirby and Gerry Rogers had both informed me, on separate occasions, of their concern that the NDP couldn’t find credible election candidates with Michael at the leadership helm.
I hung out in NDP circles – it was impossible for me not to hear dissent in the ranks. Clearly, someone from the provincial NDP had contacted Mulcair’s office to inform them that I was a ring leader, and I should be put in my place. Which was just wrong – I had nothing to do with it.
Then, just as the fire in the provincial party was dying down (Michael had agreed to a leadership review), the Newfoundland Herald published a cover story quoting me as saying that I had ambitions to become premier.

All hell breaks lose
In fact, a Herald reporter had interviewed me prior to all hell breaking lose in the NDP caucus and asked me directly whether I would ever want the job. My response was that any politician worth their salt would consider it.
Then NTV ran with the quote, contacting me by telephone in Ottawa to ask whether I would consider running for the NDP leadership if it ever became vacant.
“Absolutely,” was my honest response, adding that my support was 100 per cent behind Michael as long as she was leader.
Next thing I knew, I was summoned to Mulcair’s office and disciplined by his chief of staff.

Quitting the NDP
Over the next few weeks, I gave serious consideration to quitting the NDP.
I couldn’t accept that my speaking privileges in the Commons had been revoked by the party for such ridiculous reasons. I complained bitterly within caucus and the discipline was scaled back. In the end, I was permitted to give speeches and statements in Parliament for the remainder of the session (which was only a few weeks), but I wasn’t allowed to participate in Question Period.
Needless to say, the damage had been done. It was a sh*t show all the way around.
The battles I had within the NDP (federally and provincially) were often more vicious than the confrontations outside the party. At least you could see the partisan attacks coming, and understand the motivation behind them.
In the spring of 2014, I was heavily involved in an attack against the Stephen Harper government for severe cuts to shrimp quotas. The federal Conservatives stood by the controversial last-in, first-out (LIFO) policy, which protected offshore quotas at the expense of small-boat, inshore fishermen.
All parties in the Newfoundland and Labrador fishery agreed that the northern shrimp quota had to be reduced to protect the stock, but the NDP took the stand that it was wrong for inshore fishermen and their communities – who had suffered more than their share – to shoulder the burden alone.
Conservative Senator Fabian Manning took to the CBC’s Fisheries Broadcast to launch an attack against me.
“Ryan Cleary and others in opposition … have as much influence on fisheries policy here in Ottawa as I have with foreign policy in the White House – absolutely none. Even his own laugh at some of his antics.”
I responded to Manning a few days later with a statement telephoned into the Broadcast. (The then host, Jamie Baker, never did interview me over the course of my term in office, even though I was the only MP from Newfoundland and Labrador to serve on the House of Commons Standing Committee on Fisheries and Oceans, but then media biases are another story.)

Sparking a revolution
At the time, Manning served as Chair of the Senate Fisheries and Oceans Committee, and I said the best thing he could do to spark a revolution in federal fisheries management was to resign.
“Nothing would draw attention to the broken fisheries like his resignation from the Conservative Senate of Canada,” I said. “He could force the fisheries to the front of the media spotlight and we could begin to fix what’s broken.”
Of course Manning ignored me publicly. (Privately, in airports flying to and from Ottawa where we regularly ran into each other, we always got along.)
In the spring of 2015, months prior to the federal general election, Manning pulled me aside at the St. John’s airport to tell me that Small Craft Harbours would be announcing up to $1.5 million to rebuild a wharf in Petty Harbour, a fishing community in my riding.
Manning gave me the heads up so I could take credit. The Harper Cons knew they didn’t have a chance in my riding of St. John’s South-Mount Pearl, and considered their real competition – at least on the national front – to come from the Liberals.
“I don’t agree with the NDP on a lot of things,” he told me. “But I want you to win a lot more than the f**king Liberal.”
The enemy of my enemy was my Conservative friend. Politics makes for strange bedfellows.

The Honourable Andrew Parsons, Minister of Justice and Public Safety and Attorney General, today offered condolences to the family and friends of former Chief Justice T. Alex Hickman.

“Chief Justice Hickman had a profound impact on Newfoundland and Labrador in his various capacities over a career that spanned more than 50 years. For 35 years, he served the public first as an MHA and minister of several departments and then as a Chief Justice with Supreme Court. Chief Justice Hickman also played a very prominent role in the aftermath of one of the province’s greatest disasters when he oversaw the Royal Commission into the sinking of the Ocean Ranger. Losing someone of his stature is a great blow to the legal community and to the province as a whole. He will be greatly missed and I offer my condolences to his family and friends.”
– The Honourable Andrew Parsons, Minister of Justice and Public Safety and Attorney General
T. Alex Hickman was born in Grand Bank in 1925. After studying at Memorial University, he received a Bachelor of Laws Degree from Dalhousie University in 1947. After being called to the Newfoundland and Labrador Bar in 1948, he embarked on a legal and political career that would span more than 50 years. In 1966 he was elected to the Newfoundland and Labrador House of Assembly where he served as minister for several departments including Justice, Finance, Health, and Education. In 1979, Hickman was appointed as the Chief Justice of the Trial Division with the Supreme Court of Newfoundland and Labrador. As Chief Justice, he served as the Chairman of the Royal Commission into the Ocean Ranger disaster as well as the Chairman of the Royal Commission into the false conviction of Donald Marshall, Jr. Chief Justice Hickman was made an Officer of the Order of Canada in 2003. The courthouse in Grand Bank was named in his honour in 2001.