William Watson: Let’s GoFundIt: Toonies for two-four (Sussex Drive) 

24 Sussex Drive in Ottawa. Photo by TONY CALDWELL/Postmedia

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On his recent retirement show, 86-year-old Melvyn Bragg, host of BBC’s long-running podcast, In Our Time, used a nice phrase — “epidemic of incompetence” — that characterizes the way many of us feel about modern times. The New York Times’ Ross Douthat wrote last week about how “The crisis of the West isn’t about who governs, but that no one can.” Britain, channelling postwar Italy, seems about to dump its sixth prime minister in 10 years, which is even more prime ministers than the Edmonton Oilers have dumped coaches over the same period. 

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Our own new federal government, now more than a year in office, promised to build things “at a pace not seen in generations.” The pace of its announcements is certainly impressive, but the pace of its building is actually pretty familiar: slow to nonexistent. Which is not entirely its fault: these days every announcement prompts a barrage of lawsuits. 

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I’m not a big fan of government, an institution we have far too much of in the 21st century. But we do need government. And though we can get along with incompetent government — as Adam Smith said, there is a lot of ruin in a country, and Lord knows we’ve had our share — how much better it would be if we could have confidence in government’s competence. 

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As hockey coaches will tell you, confidence is built one step at a time. To help re-build Canadian confidence, how about we commit ourselves, paraphrasing President Kennedy, “to achieving the goal, before this decade is out,” of having a prime minister sleep in 24 Sussex Drive without danger of being nibbled by rats or otherwise inconvenienced. The Americans got to the moon in just over eight years. In the three-plus remaining years of this decade, surely we can get one official residence renovated. 

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When I was a kid, every school child knew there was the White House, 10 Downing Street, the Elysée Palace and 24 Sussex. Kids in other countries didn’t know 24 Sussex but Canadian kids certainly did. For practical but also symbolic reasons, we should be OK with giving the head of Canada’s government a place to live and meet people that’s close to work — and Google says 24 Sussex is a six-minute drive or half-hour’s walk from Parliament Hill. 

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When I got to my late teens and beyond it struck me as wholly charming that our prime minister’s residence bore the same number as our country’s favourite denomination of its favourite beverage: the “two-four.” 

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No doubt there’s lots wrong with 24 Sussex. It’s too close to a major street, the RCMP says. Its architecture is undistinguished, the architectural snobs say. (Abstract and inhuman would be so much better!) It’s not remotely what you’d do, say perfectionists, if you were starting from scratch — though that makes it a lot like the country, well short of perfect and not what you’d do if you were starting again from scratch. 

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But it’s got a dramatic view from atop a cliff overlooking the Ottawa River. It’s, as mentioned, centrally located. It’s a pleasant enough limestone Victorian (and Happy Birthday, Your Majesty!). Its construction was commissioned in 1866, when Canada was still on the drawing-board, and completed in 1868, our first full year of existence as a country.