Why Mexicans Don't Drink Molson

by Andrea Mandel-Campbell

  Canadian companies, particularly the handful of larger, more global ones, should also encourage their Canadians suppliers and service providers to join them overseas to provide them with valuable international experience and exposure. Unfortunately, Canadian multinationals often discriminate against their compatriots for fear they will appear less professional in foreign eyes. Lawyers Ella Plotkin and Brian Kelsall, for example, often find it easier to get work with international clients than with big Canadian companies. The firms argue they would have a tough time explaining to their foreign partners why they are using Canadian counsel on an overseas project. “It’s endemic in Canadian corporations, even at the top levels,” says Kelsall. Adds Plotkin: “They’re often not confident enough to convince somebody else that this Canadian experience is good enough, even when they are the major participants. Canadians can be their own worst enemies.”

  Canadian companies can also give themselves a leg up by investing in resources that will support their international endeavours, by providing either valuable networking opportunities, market intelligence or fora for developing policies and marketing initiatives. Think-tanks, which can supply research on international macroeconomic policy, are woefully under-appreciated in Canada, whereas many business groups, such as the Canadian Council for the Americas, are little more than one-man shows. Others, such as the Canada–Japan Business Conference series, dissolved in apathy. If Canadian business wants to get serious about being globally competitive, it needs to help build a sophisticated hosting environment, including establishing a serious international network of Canadian chambers of commerce. The U.S. chamber operates high-level delegations that actively promote and influence policy initiatives in foreign countries, going so far as to organize committees to write position papers on specific legislation. “They are so competent and reliable that when a civil servant in the European Community has a problem, they go to the American chamber,” says Boris Rousseff, a European trade expert. “The Americans so heavily influence the legislative process that they almost dictate what the Europeans put in the legislative norms. Imagine the competitive advantage that offers.”

  The Canadian equivalent, in contrast, is little more than a patchwork of forgotten outposts and country clubs. The chamber of commerce in Germany is reputedly made up of a lone Canadian lawyer. The country doesn’t even have a chamber of commerce in China. The closest thing to it, the Canada China Business Council, is headquartered in Toronto and lacks the standing and profile afforded to officially registered chambers in China. Founded by high-powered operator Paul Desmarais, chairman of the multi-tentacled Power Corp., the council is overseen by his son André, who is its honorary chairman and son-in-law to former Prime Minister Jean Chrétien. While the council (vainly) tries to drum up Canadian business interest in China, it has largely operated as a vehicle for organizing social events and Team Canada trade missions. “The Americans in China are very well supported, not only by the embassy and consulates, but by strong business groups who seem to have the ear of government,” explains a Canadian trade commissioner formerly posted in China. “The Canada China Business Council is not a policy group; it was often nothing more than a way for Chrétien to organize Team Canada missions. With Desmarais as his son-in-law, it was all very cushy.”

  Last, but not least, corporate Canada needs to help forge the next generation of globally minded Canadians. Terry Clifford, a former school principal and member of Parliament, has spent the last fifteen years trying to do just that. At the age of sixty-seven, he still tirelessly crosses the country collecting donations and meeting eager young adults who vie for a chance to join the ranks of Global Vision. Every year a handful are chosen to participate in a trade mission. To qualify, they must get a company to sponsor them to the tune of four thousand dollars, in exchange for the market intelligence and trade leads they pick up on the trip. Clifford has led missions to Brazil and China, and was even invited to George W. Bush’s ranch when he was governor of Texas. “It shows the world we’re serious about our young people and that our young people are ready for the world,” he says. “And not merely as spectators — they’re ready to lead.”

  The “kids,” as Clifford calls them, are invariably offered jobs in every country they visit, and Global Vision graduates fan the globe — proof, Clifford says, that “if you show Canadian kids a different way of doing things, they’ll do it.” Still, the irrepressible optimist admits he can get depressed sometimes. “I’ve made a conscientious effort to develop Canadian talent and bring it not just to the national stage, but the international stage,” says Clifford, who was awarded the Order of Canada for his efforts. “It gets recognized around the world, but we have a hard time getting accepted by business in Canada.”

  He doesn’t have to convince Pierre Choquette of the need to create Canadian global citizens. Since retiring from Methanex, Choquette has established a family foundation that awards twenty scholarships a year to students interested in spending a term studying abroad. The scholarships, which are divided between the University of British Columbia and the Université Laval, are each worth ten thousand dollars. Once a year, Choquette meets with the recipients to hear what they’ve learned. He believes that if Canadians could couple their inborn advantages with a global mindset, it would make for an unbeatable combination.

  There’s just one thing missing. The Mexicans call it cojones. The polite translation would be chutzpah. Mauricio Ospina, a Colombian-born trade facilitator with Ontario Exports, put his finger on the problem with a simple comparison: “At a trade show a Canadian will stand inside his kiosk and hide behind the computer, waiting for someone to approach him or for something to happen. An American will stand in the middle of the corridor and be in your face,” explained Ospina. “I like Canadians, but they need to be a bit more assertive.”

  It’s great to be nice and understated, but if you don’t capitalize on these qualities, what is the point? As Howard Balloch explains, “Being Canadian gets you in the door, but it doesn’t get you the order.” If anything, that lack of assertiveness, that shy, retiring quality that some Canadians have, can be a real deterrent to doing business. Customers, whether they are Canadian or foreign, naturally gravitate to those sellers who make it easy for them to buy. Call it the path of least resistance. Asians, for example, prefer to deal with Canadians, explains Lorna Wright. “Canadians are not as aggressive, and they don’t carry all that political baggage,” she explains. Despite their preferences, however, “Asians say it is easier to deal with Americans because they want the business,” Wright says. “The Americans come to them, they say, and Canadians don’t. The Americans push, and Canadians won’t.”

  What’s worse, some foreigners interpret Canadian reserve as either haughty condescension or lack of character. Considering the goodwill that precedes Canadians, it’s disappointing for foreigners who expect more and don’t have the interest, patience or incentive to take the time to try and figure them out. “Canadians need to develop a bit of an ego,” says one European who is somewhat exasperated with Canadians. “They suffer from a lack of presence— they have no image. Canadians don’t have a style of their own. Who are they? What do they want?”

  It’s a problem that seems to particularly plague English Canada. Interestingly, in Lorna Wright’s research, she found that one of Canadian companies’ greatest competitive advantages was having a project manager from Saskatchewan — the prairie province is a seemingly rich repository of low-key, good listeners and all-round “great people.” Yet English Canadians seem to have more difficulty acclimatizing than do French Canadians who have ventured abroad. Mexico-based Quebec entrepreneur Bruno Perron described it this way: “English Canadians don’t adapt, and they aren’t in your face either. You have to be either obnoxious like the Americans or compatible like the French, but you can’t be in between.” John Wiebe, president of the Globe Foundation of Canada, an international consultancy based in Vancouver, has a similar take: “The problem is, we are not internation
al marketers, we’ve never had to be. We don’t wine and dine and we’re not ruthless.”

  The reasons why are complicated and go to the very heart of Canadian identity. This is not the place for diving down that particular rabbit hole, but as complex as the Canadian psyche may be, one thing is pretty clear: Canadians have every reason to be confident. The more international work lawyer-duo Ella Plotkin and Brian Kelsall do, the more they are convinced it’s true. Usually the lone Canadian contingent to bid on international project finance deals, they regularly compete against U.S. and British-based global law firms — and they win. “There is nothing they know that we don’t know. There’s nothing they do that we as Canadians can’t do,” says Plotkin (who happens to have been born in Russia).

  That doesn’t mean Canadians have to be arrogant, in-your-face or tacky self-promoters. They can be confident in their own way. I liken it to the difference between Donald Trump and Paul Reichmann. Whether it’s books, television shows, clothing lines, perfume or spring water, there is hardly a product Trump, the U.S. real estate mogul, wouldn’t put his name to. Canada’s Reichmann has never put his name to anything, not even his own buildings; but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a brand. When asked by the New York Times what he thought his legacy would be, the media-shy magnate admitted he’d never thought about it. “Hopefully, in each city, they [the buildings] will last a long time and be meaningful for the city,” he said simply.124 In Mexico City, Reichmann’s Torre Mayor recalls the ancient ruins of the Aztec Templo Mayor, or Great Pyramid, an iconic landmark located in the geographic and foundational heart of the country’s capital. In comparison, Trump’s eponymous Towers sound a little prosaic, not to mention self-indulgent. Reichmann may be more modest than his flashy U.S. counterpart, but his accomplishments are not.

  * The company has chosen to remain anonymous to avoid further legal problems.

  * The Chinese government plans to air an epic twenty-part tv series, one of the most ambitious in the nation’s history, on the life of the Ontario-born doctor.

  10 A NEW APPROACH TO PARENTING :

  WHAT GOVERNMENT CAN AND SHOULD DO

  “ I don’t understand why you have a plan for a company but you don’t have a plan for a country.”

  CARIN HOLROYD, SENIOR RESE ARCHER,

  ASIA PACIFIC FOUNDATION OF CANADA

  I WAS IN MY last year of university and, like everyone, was short of cash, when I clinched what I thought was a cushy job working for the government. All I had to do was come in for a few hours every morning and photocopy newspaper articles containing the words “prosperity” and “competitiveness.” For a generous hourly wage, I highlighted the critical watchwords and then struggled to staple together the thick tomes of photocopied articles that were to be delivered to various cabinet ministers and high-level bureaucrats before the start of the working day. The endeavour was part of Prime Minister Brian Mulroney’s ambitious “Prosperity Initiative,” launched in 1992 with the goal of making Canada more internationally competitive.

  But as I trolled the empty government corridors to kill time, wasted an unimaginable amount of paper on botched photocopying and compiled stacks of papers that I knew no one would ever read if they had a real job, the whole exercise struck me as just a bit incongruous. Even in my university naïveté, I remember thinking: “This is the path to prosperity?” Not. My suspicions were confirmed when I graduated in the summer of 1992 to face one of the worst recessions in recent memory. A journalism graduate, I had two options: wander the endless purgatory of small-town newspapers, getting paid $17,000 a year (which was not enough to cover the gas to get to my assignments), or leave the country. I chose the latter.

  Now, nobody’s perfect and Canada isn’t the first country to grapple with the discomfiting challenges of globalization. There is no question that Canada’s future looks a lot more promising than, say, Italy’s. But I think it would be instructive to look at how other countries, particularly Finland and Australia, have confronted these same issues and compare their responses, not only with Canada’s, but even with its ability to institute similar policies.

  Let’s take Finland. Much has been made of the tiny, geographically inhospitable country’s competitive prowess. Just the southern city of Tampere and its surrounding area, population 300,000, is home to a dozen global companies, from Nokia to Metso, that are market leaders in their fields. Observers of the Finnish miracle attribute the country’s success to a few key elements: a spirit of collaboration; technical expertise; a history of outward-looking, internationally minded companies; and leadership. In particular, they point to the mutually supportive, virtuous circle of industry, academia and government.

  As early as 1970, Tampere city officials were formulating a business development strategy, investing in science parks and development companies and hiring an industry ombudsman to coordinate policy with business. Local business leaders took a personal stake in shaping as well as supporting those policies while the university in Tampere not only churned out highly skilled, specialized engineers, but encouraged its professors, with their substantial industry experience, to act as a bridge that tailored research to the needs of industry. To top it off, the initiatives in Tampere were tightly linked to Finland’s national policy and institutions throughout the country.

  Could Canada apply a similar strategy? The answer lies in the basic building blocks of the successful Finnish model. To begin with, Canada doesn’t have a history of globally oriented companies, nor does it have much in the way of homegrown corporate leaders: most are American. So what about a government that embraces business and sees its role as that of a facilitator in the pursuit of wealth creation? Once again, that’s a tough one. Almost without exception, businesspeople in Canada report a sense of ambivalence if not outright animosity on the part of government. That suspicion was amply illustrated in May 2006, when former EnCana CEO Gwyn Morgan was publicly eviscerated by a Parliamentary committee. The retired head of the $14 billion oil company had offered to chair a parliamentary oversight commission for the token sum of one dollar a year, only to be summarily dismissed by contemptuous Liberal, ndp and Bloc Québécois mps. He “doesn’t reflect Canadian values,” said the ndp’s Peggy Nash of one of the rare Canadian-born heads of a major corporation.125

  Not surprisingly, that sophomoric anti-business ethic has filtered down to the universities. Benoit Labonté, the former president of the Board of Trade of Metropolitan Montreal, recalls the virulent opposition a decade ago when the city’s leading business school, École des hautes études commerciales, decided to build a new campus and name the classrooms after companies. “We need a better integration of universities and companies, which is not the case right now,” he says. “It’s a question of culture.” That culture has helped foster a gaping disconnect between Canadian industry, the education system and students. The University of British Columbia didn’t open its centre for advanced wood processing until 1996, marking— after centuries of logging— the country’s first and arguably only hands-on bachelor’s-level program focused on furniture and wood manufacturing.

  “If you look at the typical education level in a Swedish or Finnish pulp mill, there are very few people without a master’s degree in chemical engineering or pulp and paper engineering,” says Clark Binkley, the former dean of ubc’s Faculty of Forestry. “If you go to a typical Canadian pulp mill you are hard-pressed to find anybody with a master’s degree. The educational system here has just not been organized to do that. Think about this industry and how important it is — and you don’t have a single program? You’ve got to wonder why.”

  Binkley believes the answer lies with a visit he made to a high school in Kelowna to give a talk on the forestry industry. “I asked them, ‘What worries you about the forestry industry?’ And they all said, ‘Clearcuts— they’re bad.’ I asked how many students had ever been to a clearcut, and only two of the fifty kids raised their hands. Their teachers had never taken them to one and explained it to them.
I just couldn’t believe it,” he says. “Here’s a quintessential timber town where kids were completely disconnected from the circumstances in which they found themselves. I have never been in a Finnish high school, but considering the approach they take to the industry I honestly don’t believe you’d find the same thing there. I believe the Finns see the industry as much more integral to their future.”

  With the education system, the government and corporate Canada seemingly ill-fitted to the Finnish model, we are left with the two guiding elements that could arguably overcome any systemic shortcomings: cooperation and leadership. Sadly, I don’t know which one Canadians are worse at. Let’s begin with co-operation. While the New York and European stock exchanges are combining forces across the Atlantic, Canadian provinces can’t stop squabbling long enough to agree on a single securities exchange regulator for the country — giving Canada the ignominious reputation of being the only industrialized nation without a national regulator. There are so many interprovincial trade barriers, the Conference Board of Canada concluded, that “their sheer numbers present a daunting obstacle to any attempt to compile a full list or estimate the cost.”126 Since each province comes up with its own certifications, regulations and monopolies on everything from milk to liquor and energy, Canada is the most decentralized federation in the world — and it shows.