In what I suspect will be a long, long series of stories illustrating government’s ever-increasing appetite for control and decreasing ability to competently discharge its authority, Matt Gurney says he remembers to the day when he realized the Canadian government didn’t have a clue in an emergency. ANY emergency:
It seems a very long time ago now, but let me set the stage for you: this was just days after March 12th, the Thursday most North Americans seem to agree marked the real beginning of it all here — the day the NBA and NHL suddenly shut down and, in Toronto at least, the schools closed. Though the prime minister wouldn’t officially ask Canadians to come home from abroad for a few more days, thousands were landing at our airports each day. The federal government had said that enhanced screening had been established to meet them. Sadly, this wasn’t exactly, you know, true. I knew this for a fact: I’d been out of the country with my wife and children, arriving home the day before Joly’s press conference. I’d expected screening, questions, temperature checks, pamphlets, PA announcements — to be blunt about this, I expected a gigantic hassle. Hell, I wanted to be hassled and sternly ordered home for 14 days of isolation. Nope! Here’s how I described our arrival in a column in the National Post:
[We] were processed by an automated kiosk with a touchscreen (that is hopefully being regularly cleaned). It scanned our passports and took photos of my wife and I — our children, being under 12, were exempt from photographing. Alongside the usual questions about value of purchased goods and whether we’ll be visiting a Canadian farm, there was a question asking whether we had recently visited Iran, Italy or China’s Hubei province. I (honestly) clicked no. The kiosk printed out a form, which I handed to a customs officer. He glanced at it, asked where we were returning from, looked at our passports for the barest moment, and welcomed us home. [The] entire process took barely six minutes.
No questioning about symptoms. No temperature screening. No information about mandatory 14-day self-isolation. No signage, or at least not obvious signage. No multi-language pre-recorded PA announcements with public health details. My wife did see a pamphlet listing COVID-19 symptoms, but nothing about self-isolation was noted. (Photos have circulated on Twitter claiming to show updated pamphlets given out at airports containing self-isolation information; we did not receive one on Saturday night.)
Our hassle-free arrival, to be clear, was not what was supposed to be happening. Worse, the federal government really seemed to have no idea what the facts on the ground actually were. Bill Blair was tweeting out complete nonsense that had absolutely no relation to what was actually happening. Provinces and cities were surging their own people to the airports to assert some order, since the federal government was clearly completely incapable of getting a handle on the situation, probably because it was blissfully unaware that there was a situation.
So that was bad.
But the next day, our first day back, was when it got really scary.
Joly had been at a cabinet meeting, and afterward, tried to project confidence and calm. She was full of smiles when she addressed the media, saying that there’d be announcements to come the next day. The Globe and Mail‘s Marieke Walsh, doing a vastly better job containing her temper than I would have, demanded to know why Canadians sitting at home were being teased about an announcement instead of just told what the announcement was. Joly had no real answer to that really, really good question, and just tried to smile her way through it, until David Lametti tried to save her by lavishing praise on the leadership of … Patty Hajdu, our then-health minister.
Read that paragraph again. Joly. Lametti. Hajdu. It’s a miracle any of us are still alive.
