“Pierre Poilievre: The Leader Who Isn’t Here But Also Won’t Leave”
As much as I didn’t want to yesterday, and believe me, I really didn’t, I found myself watching the political equivalent of a soap opera villain refusing to exit stage left. Yes, I watched that press conference. You know the one. Where Pierre Poilievre, who lost both the election and his seat, stepped up to a podium like the guy who gets fired but keeps showing up to the office because his access card still works.
Let’s be clear: he’s not the leader. His party lost. He lost. Full stop. The plan is for him to run in an Alberta by-election (of course), and win, and then stage his grand resurrection tour like some sort of prairie phoenix rising from a flaming pile of misinformation. But in the meantime? We’re told that Andrew Scheer, yes, that Andrew Scheer, is technically in charge.
Now, if Scheer is the interim leader when the House is sitting, does Pierre become the leader when it’s recess? Like some kind of Halloween werewolf situation where the full moon hits and suddenly, bam, he’s back? It’s absurd. And frankly, if Scheer is your stand-in, it’s like choosing margarine when the butter’s gone bad. Still spreadable, but you don’t want it.
Yet, Poilievre persists. He took to the mic, delivered his usual soft-spoken faux-reasonableness, and got back to doing what he does best: declaring everything broken. First it was Canada. Now it’s the government. Soon, I assume, it’ll be gravity.
He attacked Carney’s cabinet like a guy who didn’t get invited to the party, so he stood outside with a megaphone yelling that the music sucks. Never mind that Carney had to manage a complex transition, balancing institutional knowledge, regional representation, gender parity, and subject-area expertise. That’s what real governance looks like. Adults in the room, even if some of them are still unpacking.
No, I don’t love every appointment. But unlike Pierre, I don’t think democracy is a stage play where the sore loser gets to keep delivering monologues while the rest of us are trying to reset the set.
And here’s what really sticks: Poilievre doesn’t even have the grace to acknowledge that Mark Carney is extending him a courtesy he absolutely doesn’t have to. Carney has said he’ll move quickly to get Pierre’s by-election underway, as soon as legally possible. He didn’t have to. By law, he could wait up to six months to call the election and then there would be the election period. But instead, he’s taking the high road, even while Pierre’s still digging the ditch.
Let’s also be clear: this by-election comes with a $2 million price tag. That’s what taxpayers are on the hook for, just so Pierre can claw his way back into relevance. And he can’t even manage a simple thank-you, or, at the very least, a week of silence while the government tries to get back to work.
And all the while, he’s still living in Stornoway. Still acting like he never left. Still pushing the same tired lines about everything being broken, except maybe his own sense of self-awareness.
Honestly, I’d have more respect for him if he just took the summer off. Go fishing. Learn to weld. Take a vow of silence. Do literally anything except hijack our national conversation with another staged rant.
Because you know what’s coming. He’ll win that by-election in Alberta, and then we’ll be treated to photo ops of him and Danielle Smith wandering through golden canola fields like the awkward leads in a low-budget rom-com. (Tagline: “Together, they’ll break the confederation and your will to live.”)
This isn’t leadership. It’s like he’s playing dressup. And we don’t need pretend politicians right now, we need grownups. Builders. People willing to make hard, boring decisions. Not more noise from someone who isn’t even in the room.
So until he gets his seat back, and makes it official, can someone please, please, just unplug his mic?
Because as Mark Carney might say (in a tone far more composed than mine): “I’m a pragmatist.” And pragmatically? The best thing Pierre Poilievre could do for Canada right now… is disappear for a bit.
Pierre Poilievre: still unelected, still uninvited, still unbelievably loud.
Nancy's Notes 