The Background

Between 1983 and 2004 I worked for and was a consultant to the Government of Canada. I was a computer analyst/programmer for the most part and, during that 21 years, I was inside almost every government department. I held Secret clearance which meant I could travel fairly freely within department and government buildings. I worked on a need-to-know basis. That meant that, for example, I might have to know the structure of a database, but not the actual contents. That was fine with me. I really did not want to know details about Corrections Canada's guests. If  I did see information as a result of testing, I had no interest in reading it in any detail or attempting to recall what I had seen. Suffice to say that government employees with the right access can find out when an inmate used the toilet in his cell. (That is an excellent reason to stay on the right side of the steel doors and concrete walls, in my opinion.)

I am not going to expose any state secrets and, what was considered classified twenty or thirty years ago, has no relevance now (such as the brands, operating systems, and locations of government computer installations). However, I did see a lot of stupidity, waste, unethical behavior, and childish temper tantrums. Don't get me wrong: government employees are no different than you and me. Most simply want to do a good and honest job and take home a reasonable salary on which to support their families. But, when computers started making their way into the workplace in the late 1970's and early 1980's, there was a vacuum of skills and knowledge into which any con artist with the right vocabulary could make a power grab.

In these stories I will disguise identities as much as possible to avoid causing anyone personal embarrassment. And, remember, I usually did not have access to the Big Picture and saw only how things played out.

To start off: this is a story I like to tell because it says a lot about our country. In the late 1980's I worked on a three-month contract at the Prime Minister's Office. My job was to help set up the computers in the newly created Department of Inter-Provincial and Government Affairs. This was Brian Mulroney's solution to the question of what to do with Joe Clark. I was part of a small team who assembled the computers at the Prime Minister's Office in the Blackburn Building, and then carted them to an office tower two blocks away where Joe Clark was intended to rule. In case you are wondering, the computers were PC's with an amazing 8kb RAM (I had to add 4kb memory chips to the four that shipped installed in the machines), and the new staff were getting color monitors and laser-jet printers--in other words, the latest and greatest. When the machines were ready, I'd load the computers, monitors, and printers on a dolly and push it along the Sparks Street Mall, crossing downtown Ottawa streets. I'd head to the location inside the office tower where the equipment was to go and then set it up and test it. When done, I'd push the empty dolly back to the PMO and prepare another batch of equipment for the next trip.

One day, as I was descending an elevator with my empty cart, the elevator dinged, stopped, the doors opened, and Joe Clark himself stepped into the elevator. Alone. He was Acting Prime Minister of Canada at the time (Brian Mulroney was out of the country). I could have been anyone with an identity badge. He is a very tall man (I'm of average height); he looked down at me and said, "Hello" in a deep voice. I looked up and said, in my best Ottawa valley accent, "G'Day."

We exited the building together. I fell a bit behind while pushing the cart and watched as Joe Clark walked up the short hill towards the Parliament Buildings. It was almost 2:00 pm, traditionally Question Period in the House. In other words, he was going to work, just like most of the people milling about the busy streets. No security, no body-guards, no "handlers." Just Joe. And it struck me: in how many countries in the world can the leader of the government walk alone through busy streets, just going about his job?  I felt a swell of nationalist pride.