The idea that perception is reality is nothing new to anyone connected with politics. But no doubt it has new meaning for Prime Minister Paul Martin after The Economist dubbed him “Mr. Dithers.”

The idea that Martin is a ditherer is certainly nothing new. Several columnists have been kicking it around for months. But when such a lofty foreign publication reports it, the Canadian media feels obliged to report it all over again as the Holy Grail.

For some strange reason, Canadians seem to need the foreign media to make pronouncements on their own affairs.
Perhaps the Canadian media feel they need their foreign colleagues to legitimize what they have already been saying.

Whatever the reason, the idea that Martin is a ditherer has become universal political wisdom and will stay that way for a very long time.

It’s all because The Economist’s Canadian
stringer, Clyde Sanger, rounded up what Martin’s critics have been saying, added a couple of nifty buzz words and, presto, a universally accepted story frame is born.

Martin and his government have earned at least part of this label. A wide range of key decisions, from appointment of new presidents of Crown corporations to the government’s long-promised guidelines on bank mergers, have been stuck on hold for far too long.

Add to that an unfortunate speaking style that is long on qualifiers and circumlocution, and short on snappy sound bites, and we have the public face of a ditherer.

But there is another side to Martin that hasn’t had much attention.

Former employees of Martin — and there are enough of those to fill at least a couple of rows in the Corel Centre — say Martin can be decisive behind closed doors to the point of arbitrariness. He is known for ridiculing civil servants to their faces and for having a nasty temper.

It was this aggressiveness that was widely credited for Martin’s success as a finance minister. So why haven’t things gone as smoothly for him as prime minister?
Probably because the sheer weight of Privy Council, Treasury Board, Foreign Affairs, Finance and all the other departments in a bloated bureaucracy are just too much critical mass for any mortal.

Disciples of the ditherer theory might want to look at the offshore resources deals with Nova Scotia and Newfoundland, which spawned an impromptu fiscal equalization debate, with Ontario claiming a raw deal under Confederation. A bit of dithering here might have been a good idea before a social contract, which had held the country together for a century, was accidentally unwound.

Inside the Ottawa Queensway, there is widespread panic among bureaucrats about the government’s plans for a one-stop federal services bureau because of the potential disruption of thousands of careers.
A lot of civil servants are wishing right now that Mr. Dithers would be more of a ditherer.

Who knows? Perhaps Canadians in the future will look back on Mr. Dithers’ time in office as one of tumultuous change.
Currently on the plate is the same-sex marriage debate, a program spending review, reorganization of the federal civil service, a new health accord with the provinces and a new deal for the cities. A lot has happened since Martin took office.

Almost a century ago, Walter Lippman, writing about public opinion, said most human beings need to resort to stereotypes for the simple reason that the world beyond their day-to-day universe is too big to fathom.
As a result, they only see those who govern them in limited dimensions.

The public may be much more educated today, but the world is also a far more complicated place than it was in 1920.

Certainly, journalists, who now operate in real time, need to resort to stereotypes, or story frames as they are politely known, to cope with deadlines and limited space.

But, justified or not, perceptions must be dealt with. Aside from a good communications coach, Martin and his handlers need to look south for better ways to communicate with today’s public. Policy wonkery won’t cut it.

Federal guidelines for dealing with the media haven’t changed much since the days when every deputy minister in the government was housed in the West Block on Parliament Hill.

When former U.S. vice president Al Gore announced plans to cut down on excessive government regulation, he did so in an open field with fork trucks full of paper behind him.