I consider myself a fairly principled person, primarily because of a very humbling, very embarrassing lie I was caught in during my late teens. I won’t bore you with the details, but let’s just say it left a mark. A permanent one. Thirty-eight years later, that moment still lives rent-free in my prefrontal cortex. It’s become a weird moral compass for me, always on standby to nudge me when I’m veering off course, or more often, when I’m not being entirely honest with myself. Which is probably why the Liberal staffers button stunt that came to light this weekend has been bothering me so much.
When I first saw the story, about two Liberal staffers planting “Stop the Steal” buttons at a Conservative event, I rolled my eyes and moved on. It sounded petty. Gossipy. Like something someone made up to stir drama. The kind of thing that pops up on social media and fizzles out in a day.
And honestly? I so wanted it to be false. I didn’t want it to be true. Because then I wouldn’t have to deal with the uncomfortable truth that sometimes, our side screws up too.
But the follow-up reporting came. CBC confirmed it. The Liberal Party acknowledged it. The staffers were reassigned. Well, shit. Now I have to own it.
I’ve spent years insisting that values and truth matter. That politics shouldn’t be a free-for-all where anything goes as long as your team wins. But if I only hold those standards when it applies to the other side and not the one I support, what’s the point?
And this is the part I hate writing: I’ve done it. I’ve excused things I shouldn’t have. I’ve said “what about…” more times than I care to count. I’ve tried to win the argument instead of listening, just ask my poor debate exhausted partner. I’ve done it online, offline, in debates with friends, in late-night doomscrolling spirals. And every time I catch myself, I feel that familiar sting. The one that says, “You know better.”
Check Yourself: How to Identify and Address Political Bias
Not sure if you’re slipping into “whataboutism” or team-blind loyalty? Start here:
- Gut check: Did you instantly reject a story because it made your side look bad?
- Source audit: Are you dismissing it because of who reported it—or because it lacks credibility?
- Moral math: Are you justifying bad behaviour by comparing it to something worse the “other side” did?
- Accountability test: Would you feel the same way if the roles were reversed?
- Course correction: Once you know better, are you willing to say, “Yeah, I messed up”?
In my experience, it’s so much sweeter at the front end to engage in whataboutisms. The “what about” game is easy. What about all the destroyed signs? What about the hate flags? What about the conspiracy peddling from the other side?
Yeah. What about it? It’s all meaningless unless we can hold up a mirror. From personal experience, I can tell you that accountability can often taste like curdled milk in your mouth, but it also means you can sleep like a baby.
And if we refuse to acknowledge when we get it wrong, if we can’t say, mea culpa, that was a mistake, then we completely undermine our ability to hold the other side accountable when they get it wrong.
Distributing inflammatory buttons to sow division is harmful, no question, but in the grand scheme of things does it really compare to election signs being destroyed, or running candidates with questionable morals? Let’s just say it’s a slope is as slippery as they come. It all starts with the smaller stuff. The dirty tricks. The “just joking” rhetoric. The passive support of bad actors. The silence. Then eventually that slope can lead all the way to proudly throwing #MGTOW hashtags on your YouTube content and then refusing to be accountable about it.
I am grateful that Mark Carney acknowledged the mistake today and made it clear it must never happen again. That is the party I want to support, one that takes accountability.
Personally, I’ve never found much comfort on the moral high ground; it’s very shaky and prone to sudden shifts. I prefer solid, honest ground, even if that means owning when I’ve missed the mark.
If we want better politics in this country, we have to stop thinking in terms of left and right, and start thinking in terms of right and wrong.
And man, oh man, I hope those Liberal staffers wear this moment like I’ve worn mine—that it lives somewhere just behind their eyes, ready to light up when they’re tempted to cross a line again. Because if we’re lucky, our worst mistakes become the thing that guides us going forward.
That’s the kind of compass we could use more of in politics.