The Montebello mystery
Are the pols and CEOs fiddling while the manufacturing sector burns?
BY Ellen Russell
Photography by Reuters: Christinne Muschi
Remember way back in the summer when George Bush and Company were in that swanky hotel at Montebello discussing the Security and Prosperity Partnership? If you didn’t get your invitation to that meeting don’t feel bad: only a handful of top corporate CEOs got the nod.
These high-powered meetings are for members of the North American Competitiveness Council (NACC), a select group of high-powered CEOs. Ostensibly, the NACC is about enhancing competitiveness by pruning arcane regulations that serve no purpose other than hassling routine business activity.
These CEOs don’t want to waste time with democratic institutions and their “undue deference to political sensibilities.” They just have a little face time with George and the boys to let them know who is boss.
But is vast police firepower required to guard discussions about administrivia? The Council of Canadians doubts these chit-chats are so innocuous. It argues that these discussions go where overt trade negotiations fear to tread. Deregulation, privatization and security harmonization—anything that can be accomplished without the scrutiny of elected legislatures.
Of course, we don’t really know what happens at these shindigs. I’d love to attend to find out. Why be outside as masked men (protesters? cops?) holding rocks confront a vast line of bristling police? I’d rather impersonate a CEO to get on the inside. I’d have a few of those little canapés and hear what the heck all of these expensively guarded meetings are really about.
Whatever nasty stuff is happening under the code word “competitiveness,” one thing is for sure: these highfalutin meetings sure don’t accomplish much to really address competitiveness.
If you were serious about competitiveness, you’d be concerned about the Canadian dollar. It’s been appreciating for years now, and the soaring loonie has knocked the stuffing out of the competitiveness of manufacturing in Canada.
Let’s say you are Bombardier: you make planes in Canada (where your costs are largely in Canadian dollars), but you market them internationally (where your revenue is in U.S. dollars). Every time the loonie goes up, your profits get hammered.
Maybe Bombardier will fill out fewer forms when it sells planes across the border if regulations are reduced. It may even save some bucks if environmental or safety standards are watered down. But compared to the appreciation in the Canadian dollar, this is peanuts.
Anyone serious about Canadian competitiveness wouldn’t fiddle with regulatory fine tuning while currency markets are eviscerating Canadian manufacturing. Why tweak the paperwork for shipping goods across the border if Canada ceases to have a manufacturing sector that exports anything?
The free marketeers would claim that the gyrations of the currency are the unavoidable consequence of market forces. While the loonie is ping-ponged around by the whims of currency speculators, they say that the government must sit on its hands and let the manufacturing sectors hemorrhage.
But wait. As the canapés were disappearing at Montebello, the Bank of Canada was working 24/7 to respond to the looming financial problems erupting from the sub prime housing mess in the U.S.
So let me grasp this: when the financial markets are running off the rails, action is taken. But during the long crescendo of financial market zaniness that produced this crisis, our officials stood idly by, despite the heavy collateral damage to Canadian manufacturing competitiveness.
Shouldn’t we at least be talking about currency issues if we really want to deal with competitiveness? Why is it that CEOs are happy to gut regulations in the name of competitiveness, while leaving the monster that ate Canadian manufacturing unmentioned in polite company?
Well, banks, manufacturers and the energy barons have differing agendas on the Canadian dollar. So they don’t want this looming competitiveness issue disrupting their meetings. They stick with topics they can all agree on: dump regulatory standards, cut corporate taxes and make sure everybody is onside with the U.S.’s security agenda.
If I could really get into these meetings as an agent provocateur, I’d mention this highly selective concern with “competitiveness.” But it might not be so easy to infiltrate the CEO lobby. I’d probably get the shoes wrong: If my arthritis-inducing heels were caught on camera, they wouldn’t be one of the better brands favoured by fashionista lady CEOs.
If I did get caught trying to infiltrate, I’d take a page from the Sûreté du Québec. I’d have a press conference to explain that I deeply regret having got caught, and promise to put procedures in place to ensure success the next time around.
