Ottawa, September 23, 2008
Respect, Leadership and Official Languages in the Federal Government
Notes for an address to the Arthur Kroeger College of Public Affairs
Graham Fraser – Commissioner of Official Languages
Check against delivery
Good afternoon.
I’d like to start off by thanking Chris Dornan for inviting me here today to speak to you. It is a particular honour to be addressing students at Arthur Kroeger College. Arthur Kroeger was someone who was very important to Canada, to the public service—and to me personally.
I first met Arthur half a century ago, when he returned to Canada from Oxford to join the then Department of External Affairs. He was a friend, colleague and roommate of my brother’s—and from the beginning of his career, he always demonstrated the characteristics for which he became so well known: thoughtfulness, openness, respect for others and intellectual curiosity.
Since his death last spring, many have spoken of his accomplishments in terms of public service and public policy. What they said was all true—and the manuscript he completed before his death on the end of the Crow’s Nest Pass Agreement on freight rates will be further testimony to that.
But what I found most inspiring was his generosity of spirit. Arthur Kroeger was no respecter of hierarchy in his willingness to share his knowledge and his wisdom. He was a mentor to many—and was extraordinarily patient with anyone who sought his advice.
I am also particularly pleased to talk to students who are interested in public policy and public affairs. For I think that linguistic duality is—or should be—a critical part of your understanding of public service and public life in Canada.
As you know, official languages are part of the daily fabric of the Canadian government—and public life in Canada. As it happens, I accepted this invitation before I knew I would be speaking in the middle of a federal election campaign. The outcome will not affect my position—I am serving a seven-year term as an officer of Parliament, and report to Parliament rather than to a minister. But as I am accountable to all Parliamentarians, I have to be particularly careful that nothing I say can be interpreted in a partisan fashion.
But what I can say is this. Since the passage of the Official Languages Act, almost 40 years ago, we have seen bilingualism become one of the prerequisites of political leadership. It is now unthinkable that a prime minister, or the leader of a political party, would be unable to speak to all Canadians, regardless of their official language.
This makes us unique among developed Western democracies. I can think of no other country where political leaders have to engage in a two-hour televised debate in one language and then, 24 hours later, a two-hour televised debate in the other language.
That reality shapes the way we think about political leadership in Canada. It sets the bar high. And I believe it should underpin the way we consider leadership of all kinds in this country. To do this, we have to consider language in terms of values and not simply obligations.
This assumption that political leaders must be bilingual is a fairly recent phenomenon. I spent my childhood in Ottawa, and in the 1950s, French was the language of elevator operators and clerks on Parliament Hill. Mackenzie King, Canada’s longest-serving prime minister, did not speak French, and neither did John Diefenbaker or Lester Pearson. And it was only in 1958 that simultaneous interpretation was made available in the House of Commons. Until then, MPs were free to use French—but they had no assurance of being understood.
But in the debate on simultaneous interpretation, Pearson, a career diplomat, called his own unilingualism “a handicap.” And that sense of discomfort, which only increased when dramatic changes began to happen in Quebec in 1960, was at the root of one of the great sea changes in Canadian public policy.
The early 1960s were stormy in Quebec; in addition to major social and political changes, the first terrorist bombs of the FLQ were set off. In 1962, the political situation was not unlike that of the last two years: a minority Conservative government, and a strong Quebec-based party preventing both the Conservatives and the Liberals from getting a majority. As Leader of the Opposition, Pearson called for the creation of a royal commission on bilingualism and biculturalism.
In 1963, as Prime Minister, Pearson was responsible for creating this very commission. Two years later, the Commissioners declared that Canada was passing through the greatest crisis in its history.
In 1966—even before the Bi and Bi Commission reported on anything—Pearson declared that the federal government would make it possible for French-speaking Canadians to work for the federal government, and that he would ensure that their language was respected.
In 1967, Pierre Elliott Trudeau, then Minister of Justice, defined language rights as twofold: the right to learn and the right to use. The entire edifice of language rights, constructed over the four decades since then, rests on these two pillars.
- In its recommendations in 1967, the Royal Commission proposed a new partnership between English-speaking and French-speaking Canadians. From then on, the Government of Canada was to function more effectively in French, and the predominantly English-speaking provinces would be encouraged to offer more public services in the language of the minority, where demand was sufficient.
- The Official Languages Act was adopted in 1969. It proclaimed the equality of status of English and French in all federal institutions. It also spelled out the demographic criteria for the delivery of federal services in both languages. The Act was amended in 1988 to include new standards and rules governing such areas as language of work.
- In 1982, a new constitutional document, the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, consolidated equality and language rights. The Charter recognized the right of Anglophones and Francophones in minority communities, regardless of where they live, to manage their school systems and have their children instructed in their language, where numbers warrant.
The Charter led to a national dialogue between the courts, governments, official language communities and citizens. This dialogue has contributed to an increasingly generous interpretation of language rights.
Linguistic duality also paved the way for multiculturalism. Many Canadians, in fact, are seeking to become trilingual, so they can retain their heritage while becoming full members of the Canadian mosaic.
Amended twice—strengthened twice—the Official Languages Act is first and foremost a question of respect—respect for our national values, and for federal public servants who have the right to work in the language of their choice. But above all, it means respect for Canadians who, in many regions of the country, have the right to receive federal services in the official language of their choice.
As you consider a career in the public service, I would urge you to think about the role that language plays. You will all have the right to work in the official language of your choice, but you also have the obligation to work with others in the official language of their choice—especially if they are the people you want to manage. Those of us who work in the public sector also have an obligation to serve the public in the language it prefers, where numbers warrant.
The Act also created my position of Commissioner of Official Languages, and defined my responsibilities. As Commissioner, I oversee federal language issues. My mandate is essentially to ensure that the status of each of Canada’s official languages is respected, and that federal institutions comply with the Act.
My duties also include promoting linguistic duality and protecting Canadians’ language rights. In short, my role is to encourage—and disturb. I use many of the tools set out in the Act to fulfil this dual role.
One of those roles is that of a language ombudsman. My office receives about 1,000 complaints per year, mostly from individuals who were not served in the official language of their choice. We also review complaints involving language of work and the obligation to support the vitality of official language communities. I investigate these complaints and then recommend corrective measures as needed.
But complaints are not enough to change minds and institutions. As the American environmentalist and community activist Van Jones often says, Martin Luther King didn’t become famous for delivering a speech called “I have a complaint.”
Since I became Commissioner, I have been reviewing my role as ombudsman in the hopes of making it more effective. What could ensure the commitment of federal institutions and improve results? Investigations are certainly an important part of our work, but to maximize the role of ombudsman, we plan to use proactive mechanisms to address certain issues within institutions. These new methods of intervention will be particularly useful when dealing with systemic problems.
I started thinking more seriously about my role as ombudsman when I noticed that results had reached a plateau, underscoring the need to work more closely with institutions to identify systemic problems and find viable solutions. I’ve also noticed that the red tape involved in some processes, especially complaint management, hinders effective resolutions. This also needs to be improved.
As Commissioner, another of my main responsibilities is to promote linguistic duality within the federal government and Canadian society as a whole. As I mentioned earlier, we would see considerable progress if official languages were treated as a value and leadership skill, particularly within the public service, rather than simply as a burden. Linguistic duality is a tool that lets everybody participate in their government.
In the federal government, bilingualism is evaluated according to a candidate’s ability to read, write and speak another language. Most people get a letter grade of A, B or C, with C being the greatest fluency for people speaking a second language.
Those C levels are highly prized, because it means you have the required language competency to effectively manage people, intervene in a conflict, supervise an employee or convince a colleague. Too often, though, a manager gets those Cs, and then never uses them.
Sometimes, this happens in entire offices. The few English- or French-speaking workers find themselves greatly outnumbered and don’t want to create a fuss, so they get by, using their second language, rather than working in their own language.
That’s why managers and executives in the federal government must understand that bilingualism is a matter of respect. To be a leader in the public service, you must know how to influence, persuade, engage, energize and empower all of your employees, in English and in French.
How can you exercise leadership without understanding those you are leading? How can you respect employees if you cannot speak to them in their preferred official language? This goes beyond the work force as well. How can you respect members of the public without respecting their language rights? How can a public servant respect elected representatives without using their official language of choice? The issue of respect is critical.
But knowing both official languages, and the conversations that take place in each language, is also critical to understanding the country, and the public environment in which policy-makers must operate. Policy-makers have to advise ministers. As an example: a few months ago, the then Minister of Public Works Michael Fortier appeared on the French-language television program Tout le monde en parle. Supposing your minister were invited to be a guest, how could you, as a public servant and a policy analyst, advise your minister about whether to appear on the program, what the risks and benefits might be, what messages to stress and what traps to avoid, if you hadn’t seen the show and couldn’t understand it?
Leadership in a public sector organization that respects both official languages means much more than reading a speech in French, or conducting a meeting in which both languages are used, or ensuring that messages to staff go out in both languages.
Ultimately, it’s a matter of understanding the values and culture expressed by the language.
Bilingual leadership means knowing the cultural environment in which your executives and employees live: the newspapers they read, the television programs they watch, the movies they see, and the theatres they support. It means getting their jokes.
Some might consider this an onerous obligation. But it should be considered a terrific adventure and wonderful opportunity. Using a second language on the job opens doors and brings you all the benefits bilingualism has to offer. You get to see the world through different eyes, and gain new perspectives on old problems.
Showing leadership in terms of official languages demonstrates vision at work, and demonstrates an optimistic and inclusive vision of this country. It is an expression of our faith in Canada and its linguistic duality.
Much of the focus in government has been on teaching existing public servants a second language. But there is a second element I want to talk about.
What if, instead of training existing staff to speak a second official language, most Canadians were already bilingual by the time they left school and entered the work force?
It would be better for bilingual workplaces, and most importantly, it would be better for our country. There has never been a better time to develop language skills—especially for those interested in a public service career; people like you.
The public service is Canada’s largest employer, and 40 percent of all positions require a working knowledge of Canada’s two official languages. Over the next few years, thousands of public servants will be retiring. To fill these positions, the public service will be looking to university graduates. For example, Public Works and Government Services Canada recently announced a campaign to recruit 4,000 university graduates.
This is an exciting time to be studying public policy—and an even more exciting time to be preparing for a career in the public service. Fifty years ago this fall, Arthur Kroeger joined the public service and, over five decades, dealt with issues as varied as nuclear disarmament, Canada-U.S. relations, energy policy, transportation policy, the Constitution, governance and accountability, and many others. He also played a key role in advancing women in the public service.
And he did so in both official languages. One little-known fact: Arthur Kroeger earned enough money to accept his Rhodes Scholarship by teaching high school French for a couple of years—French he had learned in Alberta.
His French was not necessarily elegant—but it worked. And that was yet another insight he brought to language in the public service. Two decades ago, he made the following observation of the changes he had seen:
“By the early 1980s, one could find in Ottawa meetings of five or six Anglophone officials with a Francophone minister where the meeting was entirely in French. When I was in the Department of Energy, we conducted negotiations with officials from Alberta in English, and with officials from Quebec in French. Is the French that one hears at such meetings elegant? Not usually. One does not look to governments for elegance. One looks to them for competence, for the ability to do those things that have to be done.”1
Arthur Kroeger was a man who understood government, and who understood the country. Let his memory, which you now share as students at this college, be an inspiration to you. Thank you.
1. Arthur Kroeger, quoted from a speech given during the Public Policy Forum Testimonial Dinner, Toronto, April 17, 1989.
