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I Am Multinational

Pique Newsmagazine just got a new toilet. One of those water saving, two-flush jobbies that are all the rage in water-strapped European countries.

Pique Newsmagazine just got a new toilet. One of those water saving, two-flush jobbies that are all the rage in water-strapped European countries.

Ordinarily I’d be excited about that kind of thing, given my penchant for all things sustainable, but I must admit I’m having a hard time dealing with this new toilet on a personal level.

That’s because every time I use the facilities (and that’s a lot when it’s 30 degrees outside and I’m chugging water like it’s going out of style) my gaze always drifts to the little sign on the toilet seat that reads ‘Caroma, Australia’.

No doubt my Aussie co-worker Adam Daff feels a surge of patriotic pride whenever he uses the new ‘dunny’, but the experience always leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

Okay, bad choice of words there.

What I’m trying to say is that the mere presence of this Australian-made toilet is an affront to my sense of national pride.

Is there really no ‘Made In Canada’ company out there that can manufacture a simple two-flush toilet?

Did we really have to purchase a toilet that sailed across 5,000 kilometres of Pacific Ocean to save four to eight litres a use?

Apes are walking upright in Chinese zoos but in Canada, the same nation that invented the telephone and the polio vaccine, we’re reduced to importing our basic bathroom appliances.

It’s bad enough that the Australians are now dominating us in just about every sport except hockey, but now they’ve taken the lead in the plumbing sciences as well? Has the world gone topsy-turvy?

Relax, you say. It’s just a toilet, you say.

Well it may be just a toilet to you, but for me it’s a symbol of Canada’s growing impotence, a gleaming white ceramic and plastic reminder of everything that’s wrong with this country.

Let’s see. We import most of our cars from the U.S., Europe and Asia, despite the fact that we are a major exporter of steel. We import wooden furniture from Sweden, despite the fact that forestry is one of our leading industries.

Last week B.C. Ferries requested an exemption from a federal tariff on ship imports from Europe because they said there was nowhere left in Canada that can build large boats. Canada has the longest shoreline of any nation in the world, we’re a net exporter of raw materials like oil, timber, ore and wheat, and we still can’t build a big enough ferry to haul a few tourists and their camper vans across the Georgia Strait?

It gets worse. A lot worse.

Last week Molson Breweries announced plans to merge with US-based Coors and create the world’s fifth largest brewery. Most market analysts are scratching their head over this one, as it makes little financial sense for either company. Stock market shares dropped for both Molson and Coors once the plans went public, which is the exact opposite of what is supposed to happen when large companies announce plans to tie the knot.

The strangest part of all of this is that the merger plan could easily backfire by driving away patriotic beer drinkers on both sides of the border.

I’ve personally vowed never to drink a Molson product again, and I suspect that a lot of Canadians feel the same way. Why? I’ll tell you why.

Because…I…Am…Canadian!

Maybe we don’t make low flush toilets here because, compared to countries like Australia, we’ve got lots of water. And maybe we happen to like driving foreign cars and buying minimalist Swedish furniture you get to assemble yourself. And hey, it’s been a long time since Canada was a naval power, and the old dry docks are probably a little rusty by now.

But beer? C’mon!

I thought beer was the one thing we could be trusted to get right ourselves without any foreign entanglements. We take a perverse national pride in our beer, and why not? For generations upon generations , beer has been our national medium – the cornerstone of our entire toque-wearing, skate sharpening, maple syrup guzzling culture.

This whole thing makes no sense. Profits may have fluctuated in recent years – people drinking less, the cider phenomenon, that whole low-carb fad – but Molson remains a solid company. A solid Canadian company at that.

Molson’s biggest error in recent years was an ill-fated venture into Brazil that has been a disaster so far. But I guess one multinational flop wasn’t enough to slap sense into this company.

The most troubling aspect of this merger is the fact that Molson has been one of the most overtly patriotic companies out there, proudly thumping the big Maple Leaf on its corporate chest with its catchy ‘I Am Canadian’ slogan.

I guess it was all just another cynical marketing ploy, a gimmick to leverage our national pride into increased beer sales. I can’t believe we fell for it. Maybe Moroccan snowmobiles and Jamaican snowshoes are not such a bad idea after all.

John Molson (1763-1836) invented Canadian beer when he founded Molson Breweries in 1786. As an industrialist, he also built the steamships that the troops used in the War of 1812 to keep British North America independent of the U.S. He helped lay the rail lines across Ontario and Quebec that fostered confederation in 1867. In other words he was a Canadian hero.

His great, great, great (great?) grandson, Eric Molson, who now owns 50 per cent of the brewery, should be ashamed of himself for pushing this merger. I know I’m ashamed of him.

I ask you, can you really put a price on our national dignity?

And can that price compete with a Caroma two-flush toilet?

The second part of Bob Barnett’s column will continue next week.