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Reflections on the Guthrie Decade

This week's Market Squared looks back at 10 years of Cam Guthrie's mayoralty, and where he (and we) go from here
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Mayor Cam Guthrie. Tony Saxon/GuelphToday file photo

October 27 will mark 10 years since Cam Guthrie was first elected Mayor of Guelph. It’s an important milestone for any politician, but it’s also an important benchmark. Ten years marks a pivot point: Has the politician in question already flamed out and is fading away, or do they have the longevity to become an institution?

Mayor Cam now stands at that crossroads.

Over the years, I’ve had a lot of conversations with people about the mayor’s “ambitions”. Some people tell me that they have deep-seeded suspicions that Guthrie is biding his time, waiting for the exact right moment to announce his run for provincial or federal office, and then he’ll climb that ladder to either cabinet or leadership.

I’ve always said “no” to that idea. I don’t think Cam wants to be premier, I think he wants to be Norm Jary.

Jary’s 15-year tenure as mayor was transformative for Guelph with the construction of Stone Road Mall, Willow West Mall, the Civic Museum, Victoria Road Recreation Centre, the Eaton Centre (now Old Quebec Street) and the Hanlon Expressway. He was there at city hall to welcome Terry Fox, he managed to be news director of CJOY and mayor at the same time, and he’s one of the few Guelph politicians to be honoured with something named after him in the city.

There’s also a lot of nostalgia for the Jary era because Guelph was growing comfortably but still with a small town feeling. There was an implicit trust in local government because everything on the surface was mostly okay. Guelph was fairly homogenous, a typical university town with predominately middle-class people and not a hint of tents or despair anywhere.

Being transformative when the pressures are mild is easy, especially when you’re not feeling those existential pressures. Our local government is stymied now because the problems that plague it are universal. Guelph is not the only place in Ontario, Canada, or even the world that is struggling with the cost-of-living, homelessness, or mental health issues, and that’s before we talk about climate change or the rapid pace of technological advancement.

It also helped that Jary had transformational figures sitting in upper levels of government in his time. Bill Davis was in the midst of his own epic run as premier while Trudeau the Elder was prime minister in Ottawa. Interesting to note that current premier Doug Ford has been diligently tearing apart the Davis legacy during his premiership while Pierre’s son Justin has proved far too tepid and indecisive to meet the weight of challenge before us.

But this isn’t about them, and in a way, this isn’t about Cam either.

There’s a truth in Canadian politics: We don’t vote for someone so much as we vote against someone else, and that dynamic was at play in the 2014 election. Yes, Guthrie had a lot of popular support behind him, but he was new blood running against an established incumbent mayor.

Karen Farbridge was Guelph’s mayor for 14 years even though she wasn’t in office for three of them. Due to the systemic dysfunction of the Kate Quarrie council, Farbridge was effectively the mayor-in-waiting from 2003 to 2006 promising a return to solid, technocratic governance and oversight. But by 2014, even Farbridge’s dedicated base was fed up with her after the administration SLAAPed a group of environmental protestors and then locked out transit workers three months before election day.

Guthrie’s election strategy was smart. No frills, just the core notion of bringing city hall back to brass tacks. That meant no more progressive nonsense like the District Energy project, every budget was going to have to start at zero, and city staff were going to have to justify every cent more they wanted.

Like most politicians though, Guthrie found out pretty quickly that comparing government budgets to the kitchen table is a path loaded with logical fallacies, but that first term was largely scandal and controversy free as Guelph coasted on what had worked in the past and didn’t shake too many trees. Unsurprisingly, Guthrie ran nearly uncontested in his first re-election.

Looking back though, this is where the scapegoating began. That election had the famous “Slategate” controversy where Guthrie released his list of preferred councillors and even campaigned with them. He said that he needed like-minded associates to fully realize his vision at city hall, and with only two open seats that election it meant some of his council colleagues had to go. They didn’t, by the way, end up going.

The State of the City that next winter was when Guthrie made his famous apology, and his promise. He had long been unaware of the width and breadth of the city’s homelessness issues, and he was dedicated to do something about it. He mended fences with Wellington County, he did a lot of outreach and learning, and seemed well and truly dedicated to fulfilling Guelph’s promise to be a caring community for everyone.

And then the pandemic came. I have no beef with Guthrie’s leadership during COVID-19, and I think he did about as well as anyone might have expected rolling with the punches, but like so many of us in the pandemic aftermath, Cam’s turned cranky.

On his once reliable social media feeds there’s two different modes; one is the affable “Mayor Dad” who provides city information, cheers at Gryphon games, and searches out bargains at garage sales, and the other is “Major Dad”, tired of pariahs in the downtown square, sick of indulging their dependence on substances, and going back to penny-pinching politics.

And it’s thanks to social media that Guthrie, like Jary before him, is both message and messenger. He reports on council meetings like he watched them from the press box, and he delivers verdicts on important matters of policy at city hall and beyond. But he also shuts off the comments to most of those posts, and yes, that’s mostly to block out the ones that call him a “U.N. stooge” in the nastiest possible terms, but it also shuts down legit criticism and counterarguments.

The pressure on the mayor is real, but so has the turn from “Mayor Dad” to “Major Dad”. It’s been disappointing this year to watch Guthrie slide so hard from someone trying to navigate complicated realities with openness and curiosity, to someone who appears bitter. From Strong Mayor Powers to the Public Space Use Bylaw he pushed on council twice, Guthrie’s laid down the law this year, and then he tried to go back to idling chatting about blenders and vintage movie posters.

It’s not working.

The next two years may end up being the final word on Guthrie’s political legacy, but I know that’s not where Guthrie wants his legacy to end. He wants to be the mayor on Guelph’s 200th and usher in the city’s third century, but he’s got to win the 2026 municipal election to do it.

Winning that may depend if there’s a candidate strong enough to give him a real challenge, but it also depends on whether Guthrie spends the next two years like he spent this one by being his own worst enemy.


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Adam A. Donaldson

About the Author: Adam A. Donaldson

In addition to writing his weekly political column for GuelphToday, Adam A. Donaldson writes and manages Guelph Politico, frequently writes for Nerd Bastards and sometimes has to do less cool things for a paycheque.
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