Thank heavens, indeed, for Mark Carney. After watching his Thanksgiving address, I’ve never been more delighted at the thought that the next Prime Minister of Canada could be one of the most able public figures on the planet.
Let’s face it: the chap’s resumé reads like a hagiographic entry in Who’s Who. He’s done the rounds as Governor of the Bank of Canada (with startling success, I might add), dipped his toe—well, his entire foot, actually—into the murky waters of the Bank of England as a sort of honorary Brit and deal with the economic nightmare that was Brexit, and if that weren’t enough to scare off any fainthearted competitor, he’s also had a decent academic stint.
So who else would we want stepping into Justin Trudeau’s shoes than a man who can, with his head firmly on his shoulders, steer a massive economy without so much as ruffling his famously neat hair?
From the moment he opened his mouth at that podium, I was amazed. Firstly he switched between French and Canadian at a whim, that I, a French passport holder, could only dream upon enthralled—well, enthralled in the way one might be at a policy symposium where you suspect you might nod off at any second, but can’t, because Carney’s voice is just a bit too smooth.
It was a Thanksgiving address, yes, which might lead one to assume a certain brand of sentimental “and thanks to my mother, and thanks to the turkey, and thanks to the harvest” pap. But oh no. Mark Carney, good old Carney, delivered a string of words that were eloquent, grand, and oh-so-measured, “When you worship at the altar of Donald Trump, you will kneel to him, not stand up to him”, when talking about the 25 per cent tariffs that Trump is imposing on Canada.
No bombast, no fulmination, no confected rally-the-troops theatrics. It was precise, it was cerebral, and it was… well, it was quite Mark Carney. Yet, ironically, that cool, banker-esque persona might be the very thing that leaves some Canadians longing for a bit more show in their statesman.
Let’s not forget who the next Prime Minister of Canada will be up against on the world stage. Trump provides us with a particular brand of leadership, shall we say. Loud, brash, a tad unhinged at times—like a bull in a china shop, armed with a phone and a Twitter account. To hold one’s own on that stage, you might expect Mark Carney to morph into a rhetorical, podium-stomping arch-enemy to the American president, lobbing barbs with the best of them, the savage confrontation that Volodymyr Zelenskyy had to endure only last week.
But Carney’s not that chap, is he? He isn’t the sort to stand there yelling about walls or tweeting at four in the morning about celebrity gossip. You’ll not see him provoke a shoving match with a G7 colleague. And that, incidentally, is exactly why he’s the perfect choice. Because politics, for better or for worse, should be about competence, level-headed leadership, and the ability to speak to ordinary folk without scaring them witless about the state of the world tomorrow. Who needs another moose-like bellow from a North American leader when we can have a calmly guiding hand that says, “Look, the global economy is a bit of a thicket at the moment, but here’s how we navigate it without losing sight of our values”?
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a good rhetorical punch every now and again. Winston Churchill didn’t steer Britain through the war by softly mumbling that we’ll have a cup of tea and see how it goes. He roared. He cajoled. He made you feel that you were personally going to storm the beaches of Normandy, strapped to the hilt with courage. But Mark Carney, with his track record, doesn’t need to roar. He’s a two-time national banker, for heaven’s sake. He was the man who helped shepherd Canada through the 2008 financial crisis with minimal bruising. He was the Governor of the Bank of England in the years after the Brexit referendum, ensuring that—while many expected the sky to fall—London’s financial hub did not exactly transform into a wasteland overnight. He’s proven his mettle in situations that would have frayed the nerves of lesser men.
Hence my abiding gratitude that we’re about to witness a Carney premiership. No more of this foot-shuffling and glancing around, thinking, “He’s too polite for politics.” If Justin Trudeau taught us anything, it’s that Canadians have no problem supporting a leader who’s mild-mannered and well-spoken. They also happen to like leaders who get their facts straight, demonstrate some dexterity in both domestic and international arenas, and manage to project a sense of modern Canada: a balanced, globally-savvy, somewhat grown-up presence amid the howling oratory of other nations.
Carney, in that regard, is tailor-made. He radiates a certain old-school reliability that comforts. You sense he’s the sort of chap who’s never spilled his coffee down his tie, let alone humiliated himself in a petty Twitter war. His Thanksgiving speech might have lacked the rhetorical fireworks that get people’s blood pumping, but the substance was pure gold. It reminded us of what we ought to be thankful for: a nation with a stable democratic tradition, a place that celebrates immigrants, fosters innovation, and remains open for business without locking itself in the cut-throat theatrics that have turned so many people off politics.
Mark Carney may not single-handedly usher in a golden age of flamboyant verbal sparring on the global stage, but if “stuffy banker in a suit” is the price we pay for an honest, capable, and strategically-minded Prime Minister, sign me up. I’d rather have a leader who speaks softly and carries a briefcase full of actual, workable policies than yet another tedious purveyor of bombast and nonsense. Thank God, indeed, for this measured Canadian with an impeccable record and a willingness to stand at a lectern—minus the foot-stomping and self-aggrandising insults—and calmly show the rest of the world how it’s done.
If he channels even a fraction of that quiet brilliance—yes, brilliance—that made him the go-to man at not one but two major central banks, then Canada is in for one hell of a (composed, thoughtfully navigated) ride. And frankly, we could all use a bit of Carney’s brand of sanity right about now. Let the grateful cheering begin.
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Thank goodness for Mark Carney: The quiet genius poised to lead Canada
