Office of the President

3-1 University Hall www.ualberta.ca Tel: 780.492.3212 Edmonton, Alberta, Canada T6G 2J9 [email protected] Fax: 780.492.9265

Foreign Affairs and International Trade Canada Leadership Conference—Shaping the DFAIT of Tomorrow Keynote Address

Transformational Leadership for a Century of Transformation

November 28, 2008

Westin Ottawa Hotel Ottawa, ON

I.V. Samarasekera, OC President and Vice-Chancellor

It’s a great pleasure to be here today. Before I begin, I would like to thank Deputy Minister Len Edwards for the invitation to this conference and for giving me the opportunity to address the topic: Transformational Leadership for a Century of Transformation.

I consider it a great honour and a great opportunity for us to think together about leadership; about Canadian leadership and the role it has played both at home and around the world; and about transformational leadership that is called for in so many organizations like yours and mine in response to the new global order.

What is transformational leadership? How do we cultivate it in ourselves and in others? How do we bring about transformation in our organizations through such leadership? Leadership is a fascinating field of study—much has been written about it. But, we can also draw inspiration and instructive lessons from our own leaders, locally and nationally,

At the University of Alberta, we take inspiration from Henry Marshall Tory, our founder and president for the first twenty years of our history. He, single-handedly, built the foundation of our university. He drove the first shovel into the muddy south bank of the North Saskatchewan River in Edmonton, launching the creation of the 37,000-student campus with 14,000 employees that is striving and thriving there today.

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Henry Marshall Tory was not just an Albertan leader, but a national leader in post- secondary education. He was the founding father of UBC which shares a centenary with us; He became President of the National Research Council from the early 1920s until his retirement in 1935; And he came out of retirement in 1940s to establish Carleton University.

Throughout his long career, he worked tirelessly, in both western and eastern Canada, to ensure the development of a national public post-secondary education system that would be for the “uplifting of the whole people.” Yes, Henry Marshall Tory was a leader. He displayed all the hall-marks of transformational leadership—leadership that has had remarkable staying power over the course of the last century.

My challenge, when I arrived at the University of Alberta in 2005, was to build on Tory’s original vision of a great university, and to advance the efforts of all ten presidents who followed him.

What kind of situation did I find in 2005 when I became president?

There were some definite hurdles. The institution had not received any increases in operating funding since the painful budget cuts of the mid-1990s. Re-organization— mergers of departments and faculties; Retrenchment—reduction in faculty and staff positions; Repairs—in the form of deferred maintenance—had all contributed to low morale.

I was warned not to raise expectations too much. The faculty and staff were weary of being asked repeatedly to “rethink priorities” and “restructure units” in order to do more with less. Sound familiar?

Despite the prevailing mood on campus, I also found a number of positives. My predecessor, Rod Fraser, had laid a strong foundation on which I could build. Nearly 70% of our faculty had been replaced due to early retirement with very promising young faculty. Our students are the best in the country and the world, drawn from Alberta’s top public school system. We have outstanding long-serving staff and, above all, a very collegial culture. These are tremendous assets.

Nevertheless the University of Alberta, located in Edmonton, had much work to do to position itself as a leading national university with a strong international presence. So, our task was to create an inspiring shared vision that resonated with internal and external audiences, and to take actions that attracted resources and people, raised morale and ambition, and elevated our national and international reputation.

A tall order.

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In response we launched Dare to Discover—A Vision for a Great University, outlining a remarkable trajectory for our future. To put it into action has demanded leadership at every level in the institution, buy-in from government and business, support from alumni and community, and above all, a commitment to measuring and demonstrating progress.

Our long-term goal to become one of the “Top 20 public universities in the world by 2020” has galvanized the internal and external community, required disciplined investments, and necessitated clear measures of inputs and outcomes.

So stay tuned—we are launched on a journey to greatness.

Sometimes, though, even the most promising of visions can fizzle when the timing isn’t right. We’ve been extremely fortunate at the University of Alberta: we’ve been able to launch our new vision off the springboard of centenary celebrations and commemorations.

The university’s 100th anniversary has provided a truly meaningful context in which to reflect upon where we’ve been and where we’d like to go. Suddenly, the request to rethink priorities no longer seems like just another request—instead, it has carried with it historical significance and an energetic desire to set the tone of the next century, not just the next five years.

DFAIT’s Transformation Agenda comes at a similar moment in your history and if I can leave you with only one piece of advice today, I’d urge you to take advantage of this piece of good timing. Reflect upon and celebrate with other Canadians your stories of achievement and vision, and in those reflections and celebrations find the inspiration for transformation— transformation for the next century, not just the next few years of government.

One of the surprises of our centenary year has been that a specially organized speaker series has deepened, profoundly, our reflection—one might even call it meditation—on the lessons of leadership. When we began planning for the centenary, in the spirit of our new daring vision, we said “what if we were to invite all of Canada’s living former Prime Ministers to our campus to celebrate our centenary?”

Our motive was influenced by some of our academics in history, political science, and law who feel that, as a nation, Canada does not honour its past Prime Ministers enough, in contrast to other nations, especially you-know-who to the south. At first glance, it seemed impossible. The logistics. The time constraints. The cost. There were nay- sayers. Some timid. Some skeptical. Some politically concerned.

So we did the Alberta thing and said: why not?

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And lo and behold it came to be, with a little help from our friends who have worked with the current and six living past Prime Ministers—friends like Don Mazankowski, Anne McLellan, and Jim Edwards. As we arranged this series, we attracted a wonderful partner in CBC. Through their assistance it became affordable. And we recast it from a lecture to a conversation series entitled “Advancing Canada—Changing the World.” We wanted—and we wanted our students—to get to know the people behind the public faces, the personalities behind the historical roles.

Thus far, we have hosted five of the six former prime ministers—the exception is Brian Mulroney—and they have all been surprisingly candid with audiences—giving us insightful first-hand lessons in leadership in a changing world. From their stories and the stories of Canadian leaders who are no longer alive, I am convinced that leadership is defined by five types of actions:

Actions born of vision that transforms a nation or an organization;

Actions that build consensus;

Actions of judgment and principle,

Actions of courage and audacity,

Actions of oratory and communication.

We have all heard the verse from the Book of Proverbs—“Where there is no Vision, People Perish.” Millennia later, vision, a clear vision, a resonant vision, an inspiring vision is a driving force for transformation.

Think back to Trudeau’s “Just Society” Campaign of 1968—a vision that has since defined Canada. Even though the path that ended with the entrenchment of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms—the centerpiece of Trudeau’s vision of a just society—was long and tortuous, and even though it was not until 1982 that the Charter passed in the House of Commons, Trudeau’s vision of a “Just Society” tapped into the aspirations of Canadians for a new kind of Canada.

In many ways, Trudeau built his vision of a “Just Society” on the foundations laid by his leader, Lester Pearson. Pearson brought in universal Medicare; established the Canada Pension Plan; introduced a national labour code, with a minimum wage; and last but not least, convinced the nation to adopt the Maple Leaf flag over tremendous and bitter opposition. Pearson accomplished all of this—and much, much more—with a vision for Canada and a sense of purpose that overcame the difficulties of leading two consecutive minority governments.

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Sometimes a vision is born not only to respond to the needs of our time or of the future, but also to redress the past. Brian Mulroney envisioned reaching a final constitutional settlement to include Quebec—a goal that proved to be unachievable. Although there was significant consensus in support of his vision of Canada—a vision that included recognition of Quebec’s unique identity and aspirations—the journey to Meech Lake proved too difficult.

The challenge of building and maintaining consensus in Canada was vividly brought home to me when Joe Clark was asked to name his greatest accomplishment in his political career by a member of the U of A audience. His answer? Brokering the Charlottetown Accord. This came as something of a surprise, because, after all, that accord, like Meech Lake, was ultimately rejected by Canadians.

For Clark, it was the process of creating consensus around the table that really mattered—a process, he told us, that required enormous amounts of flexibility and compromise, and more than a little bit of finesse and quick thinking.

When Ovide Mercredi, then leader of the Assembly of First Nations, threatened to pull out of the discussions because he would not be able to have all 12 of his chiefs with him—delegations, you might remember, were limited to 10—

Clark went to Joe Ghiz, then premier of Prince Edward Island and leader of a small delegation, and asked him if he would consider taking on some “honorary Prince Edward Islanders.” A creative tactic that prevented the omission of First Nations peoples from the process—an omission that, we all remember, had ultimately scuttled the Meech Lake Accord.

Reaching consensus, finding common ground, balancing regional differences, linking disparate cultures—these are, as Joe Clark points out, the reality of Canadian leadership.

Sometimes, as the Meech and Charlottetown Accords demonstrate, vision and consensus are not enough—sometimes a mixture of courage and audacity is also needed to pull off a major change.

Mr. Mulroney’s spirited fight for free trade in the 1988 election campaign and his subsequent arduous efforts to ensure there was a dispute resolution mechanism required courage and audacity. Mr. John Turner was opposed to the agreement because he was doubtful whether the Americans would ever agree to strike a fair trade deal. He also quipped, “I had an advantage over Mr. Mulroney—I had read the agreement!” Clearly humour is a necessary attribute for leadership.

When the deal was on the ropes, Mr. Mulroney told Derek Burney to inform his counterpart, Baker, that he would be calling President Reagan to put the following

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question: “Ron, how come Americans can do a nuclear arms deal with their worst enemies, the USSR, but can’t do a trade deal with their best friends, the Canadian?” Within half-an-hour of making that statement, the deal was done!

An event that could have irreparably torn the fabric of our nation was the 1995 Quebec referendum. Jean Chrétien’s response to the tension that has existed throughout Canadian history between English Canada and Quebec took a different turn than Mulroney’s and Clark’s. Bringing in the Clarity Act, Chrétien told us, was one of his defining moments as prime minister—an example of courage and audacity in action. Few in his caucus thought that insisting on clarity in the separatist question was a good idea. He too had his doubts, but he was convinced that it was his job to tackle the issue clearly and definitively.

At the same time, he also admitted to using his share of trickery to accomplish his goal, chuckling when he told us that his introduction of the bill in December—the month of ice and snow, student exams and Christmas holidays—was no accident.

Jean Chrétien also told the audience that it took courage and more than a bit of audacity to refuse the call by the US to support military action in Iraq. His words to the House of Commons: “If military action proceeds without a new resolution of the Security Council, Canada will not participate” became, for some, a new declaration of Canadian independence, for others a dangerous and provocative move. Although criticized by many at the time, Chrétien’s decision has since earned broad support of the Canadian public.

Chrétien’s mixture of courage and audacity reminded me once again of Trudeau—a leader who, on more than one occasion, stood his ground against his critics, cutting them down with his withering wit or cool intellectual superiority. Even those of us, like me, who weren’t living in Canada in 1970—or who were too young to be cognizant of what was happening in the world—still can probably picture in our minds Trudeau’s staunch defense of the imposition of the War Measures Act—and his contemptuous dismissal of the media’s attempt to question his decision.

Chrétien’s and Trudeau’s mix of courage and audacity worked, I think, because it was based upon good judgment and principled response. Leadership that resonates with Canadians rests on sound judgment and principle. It requires a clear-eyed perspective of the issues and their context.

How to develop the clear-eyed perspective needed for good judgment and principled response? For Kim Campbell, it comes from broad consultation with those who are involved in the issue—including people outside of government, who have first-hand, day-to-day knowledge of how things are. Not only does such consultation smooth the development and acceptance of policy, Campbell quipped, “Listening to people before you make decisions can save you from doing some really dumb things.”

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By his own account, listening also made the difference for Paul Martin. When he listened to the international community in the 1990s, he came to understand fully that Canada’s bonds and currency truly had no credibility in international circles. He realized then the full context of the problem and seriously began attacking the deficit. Canada’s international standing, he believed, depended upon action.

How did he convince Canadians to accept the immense sacrifices he asked of them? After all, deficit fighting—by his own admission—wasn’t particularly inspiring. He did it, he told us, by calling upon the principle of fairness. Was it fair, he asked Canadians, to leave the problem of the deficit to younger generations—to Canada’s children—who had would have no choice in the matter? The answer: a resounding “no.” So far, I have talked about four types of actions that comprise transformative leadership: actions born of vision; actions that build consensus; actions of courage and audacity; and actions of judgment and principle.

Vision, consensus, courage, judgment—these become truly transformational when a leader through exceptional actions of oratory inspires others to reach for a better future. In America, the Kennedys are remembered for their acts of oratory and the power of inspiration. John Turner was almost moved to tears on the stage of the U of A Horowitz theatre when he recounted his longtime friendship with the Kennedys, especially with Bobby Kennedy.

Not long before his assassination, Turner revealed, Bobby Kennedy, his old friend and colleague, contacted him for some bullet points on Canada and Mexico. They met at the University of Wisconsin in Madison where Kennedy, according to Turner, passionately appealed to 15,000 students, telling them: “America needs you. I need you. We need the best and the brightest of your generation. I want you to join me and get out there and make America great again.”

Even forty years later, Turner was clearly moved by that speech. All the more so because three days after he gave it, Bobby Kennedy was dead.

I know I’m probably not alone in feeling the same kind of excitement and hopefulness in the election of Barack Obama to the presidency of the United States. Like the great leaders of the 1960s that he’s been compared to—the Kennedys among them—Obama has reminded us how critical it is for a leader to not only have a vision but also to communicate that vision in language that awakens the electorate and makes them—us—want to join him.

Until Barack Obama, it seemed that oratory was a lost art, gone from politics for good— and that communication in leadership was doomed to be a rather stale, emotionless activity. Rather like the toast one is often served in traditional English breakfasts—cold, dry, and unappetizing.

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Some complain that oratory is “just words”—all show and no content. But words are the only tools leaders have to create and express a vision—to outline and devise a plan—to create policy that has an impact upon real lives in real communities. Words convince people to take action. As Obama said in answer to his critics: “It’s true that speeches don’t solve all problems, but it is also true that if we can’t inspire the country to believe again then it doesn’t matter how many policies and plans we have. . . . Don’t tell me ideals and inspiration don’t matter.”

Today I have provided you a thumbnail sketch of leadership through the lens of the former Prime Ministers of Canada. However, let me be clear: without an outstanding Public Service, providing equally inspired leadership, we would not have the sound public policy support that has made Canada a nation admired around the world.

I am fortunate to be a member of the Prime Minister’s Advisory Committee on the Public Service. This high-profile committee, which has the strong support of Prime Minister Harper and the Clerk, Dr. Kevin Lynch, was created because the Public Service of Canada is a strategic national institution essential to Canada’s success in a complex world. In our report to the Prime Minister, we stated that “the world in which the federal Public Service operates has become more complex and unpredictable. This new environment is characterized by an aging population, a globalized economic landscape, ever- changing information and communications technologies, the emergence of new horizontal issues and changing public attitudes to government.”

We are counting on leadership—such as your leadership in DFAIT—to confront these challenges and to keep Canada strong.

I know that it is not easy to lead change and transformation. I started this speech telling you about building and implementing a daring, new vision at the University of Alberta. I might have given you the mistaken impression that it’s been easy to get “buy in” from 14,000 staff and faculty. Have you heard the expression: “Leading academics is like herding cats?” I can tell you that I’ve nursed my share of scratches and coughed up my share of hairballs.

In spite of my incredible administrative team, board of governors, senate and collegial faculty and staff, there have been days when I’ve thought to myself: “Let’s scrap the whole academic collegiality thing—and the hours of committee meetings that go with it—I’ll rule by decree.”

A dictatorship—that’s what I need to get things done!

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I imagine the bliss of having a good idea embraced without an endless argument over semantics; I imagine sending out an important memo that everyone reads—and remembers!;

I imagine being able to move change forward without having a turf war springing up and thwarting what I am certain needs to be done.

But then I realize: this change is not at all about me. It is not something that I am doing to the university. Rather, the university is behaving exactly as it should in a period of transformation—by questioning, thinking, talking, ruminating, arguing, meditating, suggesting, redefining, etc. It engages in all of these things, not to avoid change but to ensure that when it is implemented, it will succeed.

It’s good to have dreams, but the reality is that change involves people and people are complex, multi-faceted beings whose behaviour is rarely predictable—except in one sense: even when they want things to be different, they will predictably resist change.

The comic strip Dilbert resonates with all of us for good reason! Management directives to “transform” are seen in Dilbert’s world as pointless exercises that simply complicate things, as make work projects, as yet another hoop to jump through. In short, sometimes we leaders present change as a big problem. It is up to us, as leaders, to instead present change as something quite different.

One of the most invigorating effects of listening to our former prime ministers, for me, has been the reminder that we have leaders who—as imperfect as they might be— purposefully choose public life primarily because they want to lead and create change. It’s been refreshing to hear from people who like change!

Change, for them, is not a problem—change is the solution. And not just any solution— change in their eyes is a solution that enhances the quality of life for citizens in various meaningful ways. Change is transformative in the best and fullest sense of the word.

And like those of us in various parts of the public sector, they realize that they cannot rule by decree. Like us, their greatest power as leaders of a democracy is the power of influence.

As Martha Piper, one of Canada’s most respected academic leaders, recently reminded a gathering of Canadian university presidents: “All we have is the power of influence, the power of inspiration, the power of passion. And vision is what leadership is all about: creating a vision, working with others to craft that vision, believing in that vision and articulating that vision.”

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Or, to put it another way, all we have are acts of vision, acts of consensus, acts of judgment and principle, acts of courage and audacity, and acts of oratory and communication to be powerful, influential leaders.

As you work together to build that kind of leadership in DFAIT, I urge you to join with me in a close examination of the models of leadership that we have in this country. Canada too rarely learns from its leaders—we tend to chop the heads off the tallest poppies, denigrate people devoted to public service, or quickly consign our leaders to oblivion after they leave the public stage.

One of our aims in organizing the Prime Ministers Conversation Series at the University of Alberta was to rectify this unfortunate Canadian tendency—and to open up an opportunity for us to learn about leadership, not from a book or a course, but from the very people for whom leadership is a series of actions. Actions best learned from the very people who have been called upon to lead. Actions essential to me as an educator aiming to inspire active and engaged citizens—and to you as public servants concerned about Canada’s future capacity to act in the world.

Indeed, leadership is the action—the fundamental action—that can incite us to do more than we do, be better than we are, and create the solutions needed for the continued improvement of human society across the globe.

Thank you.