The dangers of Quebec's 'boring' election as campaign officially begins

Every election, in a sense, is also a referendum on democracy itself. 

When voter turnout is high, we take that as a sign the democratic process is healthy. When it's low, we worry and try to find ways to boost it next time 'round.

In the recent Ontario election, turnout hit a historic low of 43 per cent. Advocates called the result "a clear crisis." 

Already, on Day 1 of the Quebec election campaign, there are fears voters here will also shrug their shoulders come voting day.

The province has its share of major issues — be it a pandemic-battered health-care system, climate change or minority rights — and yet the election has generated little excitement, perhaps because many believe the outcome is a foregone conclusion.

Every recent poll has shown the governing Coalition Avenir Québec (CAQ) ahead by a sizable margin. According to most columnists in the province, it is only the size of the party's majority that remains to be determined.

"One effect this could have is that the electoral campaign could be boring," said Valérie-Anne Mahéo, a political science professor at Laval University, in an interview with CBC News. 

"This campaign could have a negative effect on democratic participation."

But maybe, paradoxically, the most boring elections are also the ones where the most is at stake. 

A new system emerges 

Quebec's previous election, in 2018, is now considered among the most important in the modern history of the province. 

François Legault, leading the party he formed just seven years prior, unseated the Liberals, who had been in power almost uninterrupted since 2003.

A desire for change is, of course, not unusual in electoral democracies. What was unusual for Quebec is that the two legacy parties — the Liberals and the Parti Québécois — suffered heavy losses while the two nascent parties — Legault's CAQ and Québec Solidaire — made major gains.

In Mahéo's recent book, Le Nouvel Électeur Québécois, co-authored with several other leading political scientists, she argues the 2018 election signalled the end of the sovereignist-federalist cleavage in Quebec politics and the rise of a more familiar progressive-conservative axis.

With the gradual decline in interest about Quebec's constitutional status, other issues have been allowed to enter the political space, in particular those having to do with the effects of globalization. 

As a conservative nationalist, Legault was well-positioned to benefit from an electorate less concerned with sovereignty issues and more concerned about immigration and identity. 

He owed his victory in 2018 to the support of voters who were older, more predominantly male, less educated and more likely to live outside of Montreal, according to the authors of Le Nouvel Électeur Québécois, especially when compared to the supporters of other parties.

Legault may have promised to govern "for all Quebecers" when he was sworn in, but once in power, he focused on delivering policies that aligned with the perceived values of his base.

That meant tax cuts for the middle class, millions for new highways and roads and a cautious approach to social issues, like the legalization of cannabis (Quebec is the only province where you have to be 21 to buy pot.) 

On the flip side, Legault has demonstrated little interest in listening to opposition parties, nor to the concerns of minority groups who lack representation in the Quebec Legislature.

The Laicity Act, the controversial legislation banning religious symbols in several sectors of the province's civil service, was rammed through in 2019 after consultations were cut short, and despite objections from legal experts, civil rights groups and those most affected by the restriction, Muslim women.

The premier has steadfastly refused to acknowledge the existence of systemic racism, despite repeated demands from Indigenous and other BIPOC groups.  

The pandemic was also his justification for breaking a promise to introduce electoral reform that would have given urban centres more proportional representation. 

Opposition parties struggling in new climate

While the CAQ has thrived in Quebec's new political environment, the opposition parties have struggled to adapt.

Without the prospect of a major constitutional crisis, the need for a bulwark has become less urgent for federalist voters. That's left the Liberals somewhat uncertain about what they offer.

Under new leader Dominique Anglade, the party has attempted both a nationalist turn and a progressive turn. The result is voters confused about where the party is headed.

The situation is even bleaker for the Parti Québécois. The old warhorse of the sovereignist movement risks being put out to pasture in October, if the latest predictions prove accurate.

In recent years, the party has tried to trade on its sovereignist credentials to position itself as a more reliable defender of nationalist causes, like identity and language.

But doing so has meant forsaking its status as a left-wing party, to the benefit of Québec Solidaire, while appearing too radical to win over CAQ voters.

Even Québec Solidaire, whose progressive program is well-suited to the new left-right divide, has faced challenges.

For one, its base — young people — tend to have lower voter-turnout rates. QS also can find it difficult, at times, to reconcile its progressive ideals with the sovereignist side of its program.

The party, for instance, struggled to explain to Indigenous communities why it voted in favour of Bill 96, a new law upping protections for the French language that Indigenous leaders say will further jeopardize their languages.

Amid all the confusion, several smaller parties have entered the fray. Of these, it is the Quebec Conservatives who are most likely to make a mark. 

The party's resolutely libertarian program stands out from the others, but so does its slate of candidates, which includes more than a dozen conspiracy theorists.

Bad boring or good boring?

A boring election every once in a while is far from the worst thing that can happen to a democracy. 

High turnout, like the levels reached in the 1980 and 1995 referendums, can in some cases be a sign that politics has reached a crisis point. From that perspective, a boring election seems like a first-world problem.

But there are non-negligible dangers of a boring election at this particular juncture in Quebec's political development, when a new party system is emerging and new political identities are forming.

Perhaps the most immediate concern is that without an engaged public, politicians have little incentive to come up with creative solutions to stubborn policy problems. 

How many times can a party promise to hire more doctors or nurses before the issues facing the health-care system seem intractable? 

And what happens if that feeling becomes widespread, and people lose faith in the ability of democratic politics to address matters of life and death?

The danger is that temporary disinterest becomes permanent. 

If the new political system in Quebec becomes characterized by chronic low turnout, by feelings of disenfranchisement and a lack of real opposition, then a boring election will be the least of our worries.