The author at work as Canada’s Commissioner of Offical Languages in March, 2010/Reuters

Graham Fraser served as Canada’s Commissioner of Official Languages from 2006-16, his initial seven-year term having been extended to 10. When Fraser’s tenure came to an end, he wrote a list of the 12 most crucial things he’d learned. As the job is now open again, with applications closing on September 12, here is that list, slightly updated.

By Graham Fraser

August 29, 2024

“Progress is never permanent, will always be threatened, must be redoubled, restated, and reimagined if it is to survive.”

Zadie Smith, “On Optimism and Despair”, New York Review of Books, December 22, 2016.

When I applied for the position of Commissioner of Official Languages in 2006, I was very conscious of the fact that I had never managed anything. I moved from being a reporter to being an agent of Parliament, from almost four decades of managing little more than a keyboard to heading an organization of 170 people. At one level, it was a huge and improbable transition, and a fish-out-of-water story: Everything I Didn’t Know About the Federal Government and Forgot to Ask, or The Front Page meets Yes, Minister.

There were some adjustments. I had spent 35 years working as a journalist, where I made my own arrangements for most things, did my own research, and wrote my own articles, features and books. I became, in effect, a publisher: responsible for all the people who actually did things. I had moved from a “flat” organization to a hierarchical one; from where everyone was on a first-name basis to a situation where almost everyone called me “Vous” and “Monsieur le Commissaire.” But that learning curve produced no shortage of useful intelligence about both the job, and the role, of Commissioner of Official Languages, which may now be useful for aspiring incumbents:

1. The Canadian language narrative matters.

The Commissioner of Official Languages is a public person, and as such, tells a story about language in Canada. The goal of equality of status of English and French in Canada is a challenging ideal to achieve. One of the most significant things I learned during a decade in this job was the value of understanding the narrative streams that have led to Canada’s language situation: how language emerged as one of the key elements in Canadian history, how the policy emerged from the Royal Commission on Bilingualism and Biculturalism (1963-71), how the key parts of the Official Languages Act became enshrined in the Charter of Rights and Freedoms, and how critical decisions by the Supreme Court of Canada have created a jurisprudence of language rights. The story ebbs and flows, and the arc of history does not always curve smoothly – but learning the stories and being able to connect them and tell them has been a crucial part of the job.

2. Every Commissioner has been different.

I probably already knew this, but after I started it became clear how differently each of my predecessors had defined the job. Keith Spicer was the most flamboyant and the most memorable; Max Yalden the most rigorous; D’Iberville Fortier the most criticized; Victor Goldbloom the most focused on investigations; Dyane Adam the most focused on restoring the research capacity of the organization. And I was the longest-serving. Beyond that, it is for others to define what I contributed that stood out – some would say I was the most interested in the English-speaking minority in Quebec, others would say the most diplomatic or cautious. My successor, Raymond Théberge, succeeded in having the law revised significantly for the first time since 1988.

Four of us have written books that touch on the issue: Spicer, Yalden, Goldbloom and me (although mine was written before I became Commissioner). I expect that the next Commissioner will again carve out their own approach to the job, may want to stress different things and manage in a different way. However, both applicants for the position and the next incumbent may find what I learned to be useful.

3. An international perspective is invaluable.

Within a few weeks of assuming my new role of overseeing linguistic coexistence in one of the world’s officially bilingual countries, I travelled to Wales, Ireland and Northern Ireland. Then, two months later, to Finland and Belgium. Over the next few years, I went to two United Nations conferences – one in New York and one in Alexandria – a conference in New Delhi and one outside of Tel Aviv, and travelled to Sri Lanka, Spain, Switzerland and France. At the office, I met delegations from China, Nepal and the European Community and spoke to diplomats from Francophone countries, Israel and Iraq.

During this time, I was involved in the creation of the International Association of Language Commissioners, and attended conferences in Dublin, Barcelona, Ottawa and Galway. I found this experience invaluable for a number of reasons. To begin with, Canada’s language policy was developed following an extensive study by Royal Commission of language regimes in South Africa, Switzerland, Belgium and Finland – with references to a number of other countries, including Israel. To see how language policy is applied in other countries was inspiring, enriching and at times, cautionary. “What should they know of England who only England know?” asked Rudyard Kipling 125 years ago; the same applies to Canadian language policy, which becomes clearer in contrast to the successes and failures of other countries.

Foreigners are variously astonished at how few Canadians are bilingual (“…particularly when both your Official Languages have the same script!” an Indian delegate said to me in New Delhi) and marvel at Canadian political leaders speaking English and French at election campaign events in Toronto and Vancouver.

It is also important for the Commissioner of Official Languages to see how Canada presents itself to the world in other countries – and how those countries perceive Canada. I had an eye-opening conversation with a former Ambassador from Israel (which is also officially bilingual, Hebrew and Arabic) who told me that Canada was in the same situation as Israel, with a primary official language and a secondary one. “I can see that from my RCMP security detail,” she said. “None of the English-speaking officers speak French and all of the French-speaking ones speak English.” It was an indication that the goal of language equality expressed was not always in evidence.

4. Neither majorities nor other minorities are necessarily sensitive to the needs of minorities.

There is, inevitably, a tendency to think that, at some point, the language “problem” in Canada will be “solved” – that French and English will have achieved an equal status in Canada, that the policy will have achieved its goals. That view is aspirational. The struggle for language equality will continue indefinitely, like the struggle for highway safety or government efficiency. The goal expressed in the Act – “equality of status and equal rights and privileges as to their use in all federal institutions” – is an ideal; it will always be hard to achieve. There will always be a need for traffic regulations, Auditors General and Commissioners of Official Languages, not to mention the other agents of Parliament, because human nature is what it is. And Canada will always need to be reminded of its language responsibilities when it welcomes 350,000 newcomers and more every year.

Similarly, being a member of a minority – or feeling oneself to be part of a minority – does not automatically make one more open and sensitive to other minorities. In fact, the reverse may be true. Those who feel that their community is threatened or embattled are sometimes more likely to challenge the idea that another group is deserving of particular consideration.

5. Every decision I made was a decision about risk.

In fact, if it is not about risk, it is not really a decision. Signing off on an Assistant Commissioner’s $40 cell phone bill is not really a decision. (Mind you, if it were suddenly $800, it would be.)

One of the best pieces of advice I got was to never charge a meal when on trips – but to take the per diems. It meant that if I wanted to pay $50 for breakfast in my hotel room, I could – but I would only get the $15 breakfast per diem. However, if I had a sandwich for lunch and charged for incidentals, it would almost even out.

From my experience in journalism, I was always conscious of the fact that there is much more interest in small, understandable expenses (Bev Oda’s orange juice, David Dingwall’s chewing gum, Adrienne Clarkson’s espressos) than the millions of dollars other decisions may have involved. As a result, I found it wise to focus on avoiding the sometimes tiny but all-too-comprehensible spending that would catch public attention and suggest a sense of entitlement or privilege.

Agreeing to travel executive class for the distances prescribed by Treasury Board guidelines did not seem like a decision – they were Treasury Board guidelines, after all – but when someone created the website governmentexpenses.org in 2010 and began comparing how much government officials had spent to go to conferences, I decided I would rather be the official who charged $2500 than the one who charged $10,000 or $12,000 to fly executive. The impact on my travel budget was immediate. And the risk of being singled out for negative coverage was reduced dramatically. (Mind you, round about hour eight of the 13-hour flight from Columbo Sri Lanka to Heathrow I had some second thoughts about the wisdom of the policy!).

In some cases, the highest-risk decisions are those involving the hiring of Assistant Commissioners, for they will have a direct impact on the productivity, effectiveness and health of the organization. Other high-risk decisions are those involving media interviews: whether or not to accept, and what to say. A false step can be damaging. We are living in what the late George Bain once called a “Gotcha!” media culture, and a single misstep or misstatement, particularly if caught on video, can define a reputation for years to come. Every media interview is a tightrope walk between candour and catastrophe.

6. Parliamentarians should be treated with utmost respect — but they can be unpredictable.

As I started the job, I was aware that the fatal mistake the former Privacy Commissioner , the late George Radwanski, had made was to be condescending in public to a Member of Parliament. From that moment on, MPs were determined to get him. One of the most interesting aspects of the job was to establish and maintain an appropriate relationship with Parliamentarians, without being drawn into a partisan debate. This is harder than it may seem. The natural partisan dynamic is to use the positions taken by Agents of Parliament to either attack or defend the government: “The government has just cut X. Don’t you think that is terrible, Commissioner?”; “The government has just announced funding for Y. Don’t you think that is wonderful, Commissioner?”. Every time I talked to MPs or Senators before a Committee appearance to sound out what they were interested in, I was glad I did it. Every time I had difficulty in an appearance, I regretted that I had not done so.

This is in part because it is impossible to know without asking what a Parliamentarian is interested in. And one could be as prepared as possible with copious briefing notes, and still get questions that were totally unpredictable. Another suggestion – other than phoning Parliamentarians ahead of time – would be to ensure that staff are following the interests of Parliamentarians and include a media and environmental scan in each briefing.

The Senate is more benevolent – but less predictable. Some Senators had a disarmingly casual style that suggested we were having a private chat in their office; it took discipline to remember that this was a public hearing, and every word would be recorded. But sometimes the most difficult questions are the simplest, such as “What is your vision?”

7. I thought about policy — but I worried about HR

The highest risk activity is not appearing before parliamentary committees or being interviewed – it is hiring (and managing) assistant commissioners. The successes were a constant comfort; the failures were haunting and led to sleepless nights.  My reaction when I was told that the assistant commissioners on the executive committee had retirement plans about two years after my arrival, my first reaction was a desperate “Don’t go!” My experience in hiring and firing was mixed: I inherited a problem which I had to deal with, I hired two Assistant Commissioners who did not work out and I hired three or four with whom I was very happy. I think I left a strong team to my successor.  Solving a problem created by a bad hire is time-consuming, exhausting and depressing.

The other factor to consider is that there are natural centrifugal forces in the organization – because of the dual role of enforcement and promotion. Some of my predecessors tended to emphasize one side or other of the organization, stressing enforcement or research and communication…which had the effect of driving the sides of the organization apart. I spent a considerable amount of time and energy trying to get the different sides to work together, and to get the Executive Committee to work as a team.

8. Every minority language community in the country is different.

There is a tendency to think of Official Language Minority Communities — Francophones Hors Québec and English Quebec – as relatively uniform collectives. In fact, they are very different. Some 85-90 per cent of Francophones in British Columbia come from somewhere else; they are there by choice, and while they are prepared to fight for schools of equal quality (see the Rose-des-Vents case that went to the Supreme Court), they do not have deeply rooted historical grievances. The traditional Alberta and Saskatchewan communities are largely scattered and rural – and as Francophones have moved to the major cities, there has been little concentration in particular neighbourhoods. In Saskatchewan, there is a social democratic tradition – resulting in an elected assembly. In Manitoba, there is a deeply rooted sense of historical grievance (it was my perspective-check to remind myself that, for some, Louis Riel was hanged last week) and significant concentration in a number of communities. In Ontario, there are really three communities: in the north, the east, and south-central parts of the province. Each one is different.

Similarly, the English-speaking communities in Quebec are very different from each other and are still often stereotyped as rich and privileged when in fact, in every part of the province, Anglophones are poorer, less employed and less educated than their French-speaking neighbours. And Acadians are also in a very different situation: the only French-speaking community that does not trace its roots through Quebec.

9. There is a sweet spot, but it can be hard to find.

Early on, I concluded that I was walking a narrow path, if not a tightrope. If I constantly, repeatedly criticized the government, ministers and deputy ministers would simply shrug, and conclude that this was how I defined the job and pay as little attention as possible to anything I said. If, on the other hand, I bent over backwards to accommodate government departments that did not meet their responsibilities under the Act, I would lose the confidence of Parliamentarians and minority language communities. At the same time, it is important to have some capacity to surprise. Sometimes, a burst of indignation can be effective. Often, being a counterweight, or playing against expectations is the answer.

Keith Spicer — another former journalist — was widely seen as a loose cannon, provocative and sometimes incendiary. But when the Gens de l’Air crisis happened, he said that safety was the most important thing, adding “I would rather land safely in a unilingual plane that crash and die in a bilingual one.” Max Yalden, who was very conscious of being perceived as a grey bureaucrat succeeding the colourfully eccentric Spicer, made a point of being as outspoken as possible. D’Iberville Fortier threatened to quit unless the government amended the Act. Victor Goldbloom responded to the surge of anti-French anger that accompanied the constitutional debate and the 1995 referendum by making himself available to open-line radio shows and Rotary Clubs across the country. Dyane Adam responded to the impact of the cuts from the 1995 budget by effectively lobbying to get an injection of funds into the Office of the Commissioner for policy and communications, and working behind the scenes to get Part VII — which requires federal departments to take positive measures to support and promote official language minorities — amended.

I found it important to have some long-range projects that could have a life for months if not years after the original document was produced. The study on post-secondary language learning opportunities was the basis for a series of meetings with university presidents, and a series of regional forums over several years. The forums on cultural diversity and linguistic duality also took place over a number of years. The work leading up to the Vancouver Winter Olympics of 2010 not only led to successful games, it resulted in a manual that has been used by the organizers of the Canada Games in Sherbrooke, Prince George, Winnipeg and Red Deer, and was the basis for a manual for organizers of Canada 150 events. The study on Access to Justice in Both Official Languages has been a tool for an ongoing discussion with the Department of Justice.

The most successful examples were when the whole organization worked together on projects that had an extended life and could be used over several years.

10. Values are a more powerful incentive than obligations

Investigations, audits and report cards – or, as has been developed, a maturity model – are important tools for helping organizations realize what they need to do to achieve the goals expressed in the Act and meet their legal obligations and responsibilities. However, at times it is more effective to inspire than to require. People respond better to the challenge of achieving an ideal than they do to obeying an obligation. Values, as I said repeatedly, are often translated into burdens – and people respond better to the idea of representing a value than they do to carrying the burden of an obligation.

One of the questions I have often had was whether or not the Commissioner of Official Languages should be given more powers, including the power to enforce rulings, or the power to fine. For quite a long time, I would avoid the question, saying diplomatically that I had accepted the job with the powers that currently exist in the Act, and was trying to use all of those powers. But I found myself wondering whether fining Air Canada $5,000 would actually be the most effective way to get it to change its behaviour. Actually, I doubt it.

I concluded that it is often more effective to inspire than to require, to promote Canada’s language policy as an ideal to aspire to rather than as a burdensome set of obligations.

That having been said, the years leading up to 2019 and the 50th anniversary of the Act  provided an appropriate period for reviewing the Act and proposing changes that bring the Act up to date and make it more responsive to the changes that have occurred since its inception in 1969 and updating in 1988.

The latest version of the Act does give the Commissioner more powers. As the job description puts it, “When necessary, the Commissioner recommends corrective measures or changes. Where corrective measures are not followed, the Commissioner may enter into compliance agreements with the institutions subject to complaints or may issue orders.”

11. Respect is the most important value.

As a journalist, I had always been very conscious of the need to treat people with respect – Parliamentarians, ministers, voters, readers, colleagues – feeling that people were quite understanding of being criticized, provided they were treated with respect and not subject to cheap shots. I probably got this job because I had treated members of all parties with respect as a journalist and author.

In doing this job, I was equally conscious of the need to treat everyone in the organization, and their comments, with respect. As a reporter, I only had to focus on the interesting part of a meeting – if something bored me, it would certainly bore the reader. But as Commissioner, I had to concentrate on every aspect of every meeting. To show a lack of interest was to show contempt. Similarly, parliamentarians, public servants, journalists, and citizens never forget an encounter if they feel they have been brushed off, condescended to or treated as an irritation.

The essential quality I had developed as a journalist – curiosity, interest in other people’s stories – was a transferable leadership skill that helped me win the confidence of people working in very different parts of the organization.

Similarly, I tried to be candid – and found that candour was an effective tool in winning the confidence of the people I was dealing with. Candour builds trust, I found; lack of candour builds suspicion and distrust.

12. Being Commissioner is a 24-hour-a-day responsibility.

This is a very public role. I have been stopped on the street, spoken to at concerts and movie theatres, and sent e-mails from citizens. By and large, these interactions were extremely positive. There are few other non-elected positions that are as visible and provoke as much public interest and comment. As a result, it is difficult to be “off” and it is hard to take holidays in Canada and still get away from the job. The e-mails continue, people raise the issue, and public spaces often reflect Official Language challenges.

I have often said that I lost sleep over HR issues, but never over policy issues. That is not entirely true. There have been times when I have woken up in the middle of the night and found it hard to get back to sleep as I replayed an interview I had given and fretted over what I said or failed to say.

All that being said, it is a terrific job. There was not a day, over ten years and two months, when I did not want to go to work. It was the best job I’ve ever had.

Graham Fraser is the former Commissioner of Official Languages, serving from 2006-16. A former Ottawa bureau chief of The Globe and Mail, he also served as the paper’s Washington bureau chief. He is the author of several national bestsellers, including PQ: René Lévesque and the Parti Québécois in Power, and Sorry, I Don’t Speak French: Confronting the Canadian Crisis that Won’t Go Away.