In an era of performative politics in which the news cycle has become a parade of propaganda drops and social media has commodified the dissemination of staged “authenticity”, what we really hanker for as a society is the real thing, argues Lori Turnbull. Our longtime Policy contributor and director of the Dalhousie School of Public Administration delivers a trenchant plea for politicians to excavate and embrace authentic authenticity.

Lori Turnbull

In 2017, when talking to the press about ongoing trade negotiations among Canada, the United States and Mexico, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau described then-President Donald Trump as “authentic.” He said: “It may be surprising to some that he’s authentic, in that the person he is on camera in public is very true to the person he is in private…So there’s a consistency there that … one can work with.”

These words were meant not as an endorsement but, instead, amounted to lukewarm diplomacy on the part of a prime minister trying to conduct international trade negotiations with a zealot. That said, the nod to authenticity and its salience in electoral politics deserves some consideration. In a world of sound bites, pre-approved speeches, and staged press conferences, we are all starved for something “real” – however imperfect or unrehearsed.

The concept of authenticity can be unpacked in different ways depending on the circumstances but, in politics, to be authentic is to say what you mean and to live the true version of yourself regardless of who is watching. A rare trait, to be sure. The combination of an omnipresent media, party discipline, and human fallibility can seriously limit politicians’ willingness to embrace authenticity in their presentations to the public. This is true even for political leaders who are more powerful than most. There is an understandable desire to avoid looking stupid, tone deaf, or out of the loop, so politicians err on the side of being overly scripted as opposed to speaking honestly and from the heart. When they break away from this tendency, though, the results can be positive.

Very few successful politicians have been known to be truly authentic. Prime Minster Jean Chrétien comes to mind. He spoke without notes and did not pull punches. And, though he did not exactly throw a “punch” in this case, his approval ratings rose when he gave a protester his famous “Shawinigan handshake.” No public figure ought to be celebrated for giving in to the temptation to throttle a heckler, to be clear, but his actions fit his reputation as a “street fighter” and did not present a political liability.

When he testified before the Public Order Emergency Commission on the federal government’s decision to invoke the Emergencies Act to bring an end to the occupation of the national capital, Trudeau  was at his best. He gave direct answers to the questions posed in a way that was unapologetic, accountable, and seemingly authentic.

Before him, Prime Minister Pierre Elliott Trudeau displayed authenticity in his refusal to suffer fools or to mince words. His “Just watch me” moment during the 1970 October Crisis was spontaneous and gutsy. His son, by contrast, is said to have an authenticity problem. The current Prime Minister Trudeau’s previous life as a drama teacher is often used against him as evidence of his superficiality and a possible vocational ability to be someone other than his real self. His tendencies toward virtue-signalling, ethics infractions, and failure to practice what he preaches (see his Tofino vacation on the first National Day for Truth and Reconciliation) do not help. However, when he testified before the Public Order Emergency Commission on the federal government’s decision to invoke the Emergencies Act to bring an end to the occupation of the national capital, Trudeau was at his best. He gave direct answers to the questions posed in a way that was unapologetic, accountable, and seemingly authentic. More of this version of Trudeau would likely increase the Liberals’ chances of a fourth term.

Arguably, mainstream politics and authenticity do not mix because voters tend not to be forgiving of human error among the political class. But herein lies the paradox: the more politicians varnish themselves to avoid criticism and protect their chances for re-election, the more boring and unrelatable they become, which can encourage voters to check out altogether. Modern populism has made a political opportunity out of this reality. In Populocracy: The Tyranny of Authenticity and the Rise of Populism, Catherine Fieschi contends that authenticity is central to the appeal of populism and the success of populist politicians around the world, including Trump. Populism these days is often about building political constituencies based on the persona of a leader who takes pains to identify as a “regular” person rather than as a political elite.

Ontario Premier Doug Ford fits this mold. With his late brother Rob, former mayor of Toronto, he built “Ford Nation” by promising to get things done and leave more money in your pocket. Ideology is notably absent. When his approval ratings decline, he gives the public more of “himself.” For example, during the pandemic, Premier Ford released videos of himself baking cakes and driving around in his truck to help people who were stranded in the snow. The appeal is about him rather than the party. The strategy is to put forward an “authentic” version of Ford that people can relate to.

To keep our wits about us, however, we must be clear that populist authenticity is not real. On the contrary, the populist’s leverage of the concept of authenticity is a perverse scenario where authenticity becomes a brand that is packaged and sold to voters who are looking for a solution to their worsening problems. Many have lost trust in governing institutions, so the populist agenda asks people to trust in a person instead. But it’s all a gimmick. Sure, it’s possible that Doug Ford makes a great cheesecake, as his video would suggest, but it is equally likely that he’s doing the best he can to come across as a regular person doing regular things, even though he’s at the helm of the very machine that populist sympathizers, including members of Ford Nation, rage against.

The future of political authenticity is not populism. Instead, it is the authenticity that we rarely see anymore: the unscripted speech that changes people’s opinions; the hiccup that proves that a political leader is human like the rest of us; and, the meaningful, respectful exchange with someone of a contrary mind. Rather than following trends in public opinion and giving people what they think they want, authentic political leadership would help to build a consensus around innovative ideas for progress and growth. Authenticity involves taking the risk that, in staking out a clear position, you will alienate those who disagree. This risk can be managed if one views political office as a temporary privilege rather than an indefinite entitlement.

Populist authenticity is not real. On the contrary, the populist’s leverage of the concept of authenticity is a perverse scenario where authenticity becomes a brand that is packaged and sold to voters who are looking for a solution to their worsening problems.

The current leaders of the main federal political parties collectively suffer an authenticity crisis. They could all be accused of chasing votes on the margins instead of holding fast to party ideals or personal ethics. Prime Minister Trudeau and New Democratic Party leader Jagmeet Singh have all but blended their parties together via an agreement of confidence and supply that inoculates the government from any true test of confidence while it protects the NDP from an election they can’t afford. Both parties will likely end up supporting a budget that could pave the way for significant private involvement in health care, which would mark a significant departure for both from their historical positions on this critical subject.

For his part, Conservative leader Pierre Poilievre is a master of political obscurity. His vague messages about freedom help him to escape accountability for taking any firm position. He has never embraced the authenticity politics of his colleague, Premier Ford, and he is to be commended for that. But as leader, he gets less authentic every day, as he distances himself from the role he played as Conservative enforcer to appear “prime ministerial.” His efforts might pay off, particularly if he can become the chief beneficiary of Liberal fatigue, but such a scenario would likely lead to deep disenchantment for those who voted for him because they thought they were voting for change.

With declining levels of public trust and voter engagement, we are in dire need of an injection of authenticity into our political blood supply. We need real people to say what they mean and do what they say, even if it costs them votes. Without this, voter apathy will get worse and political competition will lose its meaning, purpose, and legitimacy. What Trudeau, Poilievre and Singh have in common is that they’ve all been in politics for a long time. Surely, for career politicians like them, authenticity is worth the risk.

Contributing Writer Lori Turnbull, co-winner of the Donner Prize for Political Writing, is an Associate Professor and Director of the School of Public Administration at Dalhousie University.