Nigel Wright was no criminal, but politics treated him like one

There was no crime, but politics needed a scapegoat—and Wright was it

Nigel Wright’s untimely death at the age of 62 prompted me to re-read a column I wrote back in 2013. Having done so, I wouldn’t change a word. Remember that the $90,000 in question came out of Wright’s personal funds and, after the RCMP investigation concluded, he was never charged with any crime. Here’s what I wrote back then.

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Clearly, I’m missing something. Almost all of the media coverage tells me that the doings of Nigel Wright should prompt feelings of outrage. But I can’t get with the program.

Here’s the problem.

When words like bribe and payoff are deployed, I normally think of buying a favour in order to derive monetary benefit. And when public officials are involved, that usually results—one way or another—in the fleecing of the taxpayer.

So what benefit did Wright expect to get in return for his $90,000? To what purpose was the money directed?

From what we know, it went to reimburse the government for Mike Duffy’s inappropriately claimed expenses. In other words, to unfleece the taxpayer. Bribery certainly ain’t what it used to be!

Of course, there’s the argument that Wright’s motive wasn’t altruistic—he did it to contain the political damage, to make an embarrassing problem go away. And that’s surely true.

But making such problems go away is part of the job description for people in his position. Whether the employer is a political party, a corporation or some other kind of institution, the Nigel Wrights of this world are supposed to protect the brand. As motives go, there’s nothing dishonourable about it.

But what about covering up illegality? Surely that’s cause for outrage?

Yes, it would be. However, as the RCMP material notes, Wright believed Duffy’s transgression was ethical, not legal. Duffy was, he thought, shamelessly exploiting the ambiguity of the rules in order to feather his own nest. But exploiting rules doesn’t necessarily constitute a crime.

Nor, contrary to the assumption of most coverage, is it clear that Wright himself broke the law. The RCMP’s assertion of “reasonable grounds” is an investigative formulation, calculated to facilitate the gathering of evidence. While not trivial, neither is it sufficient to lay charges, let alone get a conviction.

For instance, David Debenham is one lawyer who finds the legal case against Wright dubious. As he sees it, the evidence vindicates Wright’s intention: “He’s not trying to persuade Mr. Duffy to break the law, he’s offering the money so Mr. Duffy can comply with the law.” And Debenham goes further: “What, exactly, is the corruption element here? There doesn’t seem to be any influence peddling.”

That last observation strikes a particularly pertinent note, focusing attention on the substance of the issue. Even if Wright can be nailed on a technical violation, was his action—devoid of influence peddling or favour buying—really the kind of thing the Criminal Code is intended to proscribe? Trying to make it so brings to mind British historian Niall Ferguson’s observation that the rule of law is in danger of degenerating into the rule of lawyers.

But what about the attempt to broker an agreement between Duffy and the Senate leadership, whereby the inappropriate expenses would be repaid and the book closed? To quote from Wright’s March 24 email: “We are not asking the senators to absolve him of anything—they would refuse that quite properly. We are asking them to treat the repayment as the final chapter of the expenses issue relating to his designation of the P.E.I. cottage as his primary residence to this point in time.”

To anyone with serious management experience, such brokerage attempts shouldn’t come as a surprise. Faced with an employee having audit trouble over expenses, a common inclination—absent criminal behaviour—would be to convince the employee to pay up in return for closing the book. Such compromises may offend purists, but that’s how the real world works.

Of course, we’re still left with the spin and outright deceit. And there was certainly that in spades. Politics, however, has always been a shabby business, characterized by a flexible relationship with the literal truth. It would be nice if things were otherwise, but they’ve never been so.

That all said, it’s hard to see Stephen Harper as being other than diminished by this, not because of what Wright did, but because of how he himself reacted. To be sure, Wright needed to step aside, at least temporarily. But Harper could, and should, have been more generous in his subsequent remarks. Loyalty is a political virtue, and the failure to display any may well come back to haunt him.

Troy Media columnist Pat Murphy casts a history buff’s eye at the goings-on in our world. Never cynical – well, perhaps a little bit.