Hubris. This ancient word is the most plausible explanation for why Ontario Premier Doug Ford thought it was a good idea to buy a $28.9-million private jet for his travels at a time when his province is languishing with high unemployment rates, rising inflation and an auto industry on the brink of collapse. 

If Ford’s advisors didn’t warn him that this was a big mistake, heads will roll. But it’s such an obvious blunder, it’s nearly inconceivable that no one in the inner circle raised concerns about the optics. More likely, the premier shrugged them off. Because buying a private jet is a let-them-eat-cake kind of move a man makes when he feels invincible.

Ford has elevated his political profile as leader of Canada’s most populous province to international status during US President Donald Trump’s second term. He clearly enjoys his “Captain Canada” moniker, and more than once has dipped his oar into sensitive US trade-war negotiations. It hasn’t always gone well. He was forced to backtrack on a surcharge on power sales to the US and yank an anti-tariff ad off the air after it angered Trump to the point he called off trade talks.

But none of that matters when you see yourself as a very important politician riding high in the polls. And really, what king doesn’t need a private plane? Ontario is a big province and heaven forbid a king should wait in line to board or his minions go through the hassle of chartering a flight. Real kings snap their fingers, their Bombardier Challenger 650 rolls up to a dedicated terminal at their newly seized airport, and the king and his coterie climb aboard.

When news of the purchase broke, the opposition naturally pounced. And before you know it, Ford was scrambling to sell back what quickly became known as the “gravy plane” to some and “Air Ford One” to others. One thing nobody outside the government called it was “a good idea.”

Ford’s minions tried to argue the plane purchase was economically justifiable to get the king to remote regions across his vast land. But a full business case was not provided, and you can bet it will now be deeply buried if it ever existed. Any tenuous justification was vapourized on Thursday after CBC did the math and found the plane, fully loaded, could only land at 10 per cent of Ontario airports.

Which brings us back to hubris, which Ford exhibited even as he acknowledged the whole idea was a mistake. In his “sorry, not sorry” apology, he whined about the backlash he should have seen coming. “There is no one in this country that is scrutinized more than I am,” he complained. Ford tried to draw a parallel to planes purchased by Quebec, saying he was being subjected to a “double standard.” Once again, that argument fell apart when Radio-Canada did a little digging and found that Quebec’s jets are medical transport planes and not at the premier’s beck and call. 

Ford is a populist who, until now, has shown an uncanny ability to read the room. Even though he is a wealthy business owner, his carefully cultivated image as a ballcap-wearing, truck-driving everyman who would help a neighbour dig out during a blizzard has resonated with Ontario voters. He’s weathered controversies that would have sunk a lesser politician — his plans to pave Ontario’s Greenbelt, his cozy relationship with wealthy land developers, his erosion of environmental protection laws and municipal government powers — to name just a few.

However, the aborted jet purchase is a slip that could really hurt. Because if there is one thing that Canadian voters don’t like, it is their politicians living high on the hog. 

Former prime minister Justin Trudeau survived his exclusive unpaid vacation at the Aga Khan's private island. But the fact that His Highness was a long-time Trudeau family friend only further cemented Justin’s image as a member of the entitled global elite and provided grist for his opposition critics. 

Former senator Mike Duffy’s expense scandal saw him retire in ignominy. Former Alberta premier Alison Redford was roasted for using her expense account to fly her daughter on numerous trips, which may or may not have been true government business, and for her planned multimillion-dollar “sky palace” on top of the Queen Elizabeth II Building in Edmonton. Her penchant for flying high was one of the factors that sped her political demise.

And who can forget former Conservative international cooperation minister Bev Oda’s $16 orange juice, a minuscule expenditure in the grand scheme of government spending, but huge in the bad optics department. She retired from politics later that year.

I wouldn’t put money on the private jet debacle spelling the end of Ford. He won the last election in a landslide, the centre-left vote is still split and Ontarians have been willing to cut him endless slack. But the gravy plane can, and should, feature largely in opposition campaigns when the next election rolls around. And these kinds of mistakes often spell the beginning of the end.

© National Observer