After the PM's campaigning, let's look at that whopping gap in unemployment rates
Justin Trudeau's Regatta stop was about an election that doesn't seem to matter much. Pity
It is Aug. 7, and the sun is shining for the 201st Royal St. John's Regatta. This year's running is different because Prime Minister Justin Trudeau has stopped by to shake a few hands, pose for a few pictures, and work at least one fundraising dinner.
It is generally a big deal when the prime minister visits our little province, but this time it really feels like most people are shocked to learn that he is actually here as part of the buildup to the federal election, which is happening in less than 75 days.
Yes, there is a federal election coming. This time the federal Liberals and Conservatives are so close in the polls that Newfoundland and Labrador's seven seats may be the difference in who leads the next government.
We should be talking about it daily, yet among most people in the province it is hard to find anyone who is even aware of the upcoming election, let alone someone who is invested in it.
This is strange considering just how intense the recent provincial election was. The historic outcome of a minority government was interesting, if nothing else.
So why is it that nobody really seems to care about the federal election?
If we look back for the last 40 years, employment in Newfoundland and Labrador has always lagged the rest of Canada. In 1994, the gap was 9.6 percentage points above the average Canadian unemployment rate. Nationally, it was 10.4 per cent; N.L. then was hitting 20 per cent.
This was during the depths of the cod moratorium, when 50,000 people were in the midst of leaving our province, never to return.
I sometimes think of this as the lost generation of Newfoundland and Labrador.
In 2000, the gap was still huge: the national rate was 6.8 per cent while we were at 16.6 per cent.
Then the oil boom of the 2010s, when Newfoundland and Labrador clawed our way within 4.5 percentage points of the national average.
That happened in 2013, the only year in history where N.L.'s unemployment rate wasn't dead last in the country.
We were tied for dead last with P.E.I.
For one year.
For decades, Newfoundland and Labrador's unemployment rate has been significantly higher than the national average.
By 2018, that gap is back to eight percentage points. We are back to trailing the rest of Canada by nearly the same amount as during the cod moratorium.
A Harris Centre report published two years ago has grim projections for the years ahead. Its medium-risk scenario suggests the population could drop by more than 40,000 people by 2036.
Underemployment and struggle are as much a part of our culture as rain, drizzle and fog. But election after election, our political leaders expect us to believe them when they say that they care about us.
In 2015, Newfoundland and Labrador got swept up in the red wave, which carried not only seven Liberal MPs to Ottawa, but also 31 Liberal MHAs to the Confederation Building.
Four years later and things have not gotten better. At the federal level, government after government has been OK with the reality of a Newfoundland and Labrador that has no real hope for sustainable jobs.
Every single other province in Canada has closed the gap with the national average over the last 20 years, with the exception of those provinces who are already at what is considered full employment (four to six per cent unemployed).
Every other province. Except us.
We've had to be satisfied with table scraps for the entirety of our existence.
How many of you have had to say goodbye to a cherished family member as they got on the ferry or a plane to head elsewhere to try to carve out a fulfilling existence? How many of you know people who work excruciating turnovers in remote areas to provide for their families here?
How many of you know someone who is working three minimum-wage jobs just to make ends meet?
How many of you know someone who is struggling with depression and anxiety, and has no money to get help?
How many of these stories of suffering exist in our province?
How much of it could have been prevented if we had the amount of opportunity that exists in Nova Scotia (7.5 per cent unemployment), or Manitoba (six per cent), or even P.E.I. (9.4 per cent)? How much further ahead would we be if we'd gotten more than a dismissive handout from Ottawa?
A lot has been written in the last few years about election apathy.
It is hard to blame people here for their apathy when they are asked to care about a federal election when it is clear the federal government has failed in its duty to help improve life in our province.
We've had to be satisfied with table scraps for the entirety of our existence. It's all we've been offered.
When I see the prime minister coming to shake hands and pose for photos at the Regatta, one of the only days of the year where we can all forget our troubles for a time and have some fun at the lake, I feel more than a little bit irritated.
It is a great photo op. But that's all our province is now to federal politicians: a photo op. A box to tick.
We don't care about the federal election because the federal government hasn't shown that they care about us.
We're on our own out here. We always have been.
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