This is the seventh in a series of opinion columns on the 2022 Ontario provincial election, written by Josh Lieblein for The CJN.

No matter how secure you think you are as Premier of Ontario, you’ve got to remember one thing: there’s always someone.

And, like the tides, the someones are eternal.

That someone is a member of your caucus. They’re likely a cabinet minister, solidly ensconced in their riding. They’ve got a pretty good record of bringing forth popular legislation, or legislation that’s at least popular with the right lobbyists and interest groups. They’re skilled fundraisers. And they’ve got few other someones who are known, or suspected, to be a little more loyal to this aforementioned someone than they are to you.

Publicly, this someone is as supportive as they can be, but everyone knows they want your job. Maybe they’re being a little less than careful about concealing that desire. You know things about this someone that could hurt them if they came to light. But you don’t let it slip, because they know stuff about you, too. 

In fact, maybe you were once the someone to the premier before you, and you did all the things this someone is now doing. Maybe you don’t want to look like a giant hypocrite in public.  

And so, you also make a show of being friends in public. You can cause trouble for them behind the scenes without making it look like you’re causing trouble. They can’t complain publicly any more than you can. Because when the behind-the-scenes fights become public, the party ends up imploding. You lose the election. You lose your seats. If your kids want to run someday, they might need to run in a nomination. And nobody wants that. 

This isn’t solely an Ontario Progressive Conservatives party tendency. Liberal Dalton McGuinty had his someones in Chris Bentley and Dwight Duncan. Kathleen Wynne had current leader Steven Del Duca and Michael Coteau. 

But the most significant implosions have happened to the Ontario PCs. Larry Grossman, who became that party’s first Jewish leader in 1985, is the example that proves the rule for most people.

Grossman would’ve also become the province’s first Jewish premier on Sept. 10, 1987—if not for the fact that he and his various someones just couldn’t stop having disagreements in public. 

The historical record is full of the 1980s equivalent of vaguebooking when it comes to the actual content of these disagreements. Grossman apparently had a habit of saying things like, “the deal is, they put me in cabinet and I put away the knives.”

Backroom operatives idly theorized that delegates wouldn’t vote for a Jew. Frank Miller, one of the someones who became leader instead of Grossman–and promptly blew the next election—cancelled a hospital in Grossman’s riding. Grossman himself was slightly distinguishable (see: Jew) from the titan Bill Davis, while other grey men such as Dennis Timbrell could’ve passed for Davis on a cloudy day. And of course, the issue of faith-based schools loomed darkly over everything (once again: the Jews).   

In truth, it doesn’t matter what these arguments were about. If any trace of them came down to us little people, then we can safely assume that the PC leaders of the ’80s and their someones were actually trying to stab one other as soon as the cameras were off.

Today, frustrated PCs air their grievances on anonymous online posts that mysteriously disappear when they start circulating in backchannels, resignations of ministers and MPPs pile up, and Premier Ford can count at least four possible someones: Monte McNaughton, Doug Downey, Peter Bethlenfalvy and Caroline Mulroney.    

This is all to say that if you’re not a fan of Doug and the seemingly united Ontario PCs, take comfort. This party is always one offhand comment away from devolving into a knife fight.   

Josh Lieblein can be reached at [email protected] for your response to Doorstep Postings.