Freedom of speech exists, sort of. . .

SOCIAL STUDIES - Published Monday August 4th, 2008

Clearly you cannot just yell "Fire!" while watching a movie over at Empire Theatres just for fun. For one thing, it will get you arrested. There are costs involved to rolling out the fire trucks, and there is the possibility of people getting hurt in the stampede towards the exits -- so most of us would argue that this is a really good law. It protects the public interest, makes sure the fire trucks are available for the actual blaze; and besides, is based on a children's book we all read, "The Boy Who Cried Wolf."

That being said, can anyone define for me the limits of free speech?

By that I mean to ask, what is it permissible to say in public and what shouldn't one say?

Does that change depending on where you are?

For example, can I say one thing in a restaurant where I can be overheard; follow different rules while speaking to a group of people in a lecture; and have to do things completely differently in print?

What I am asking is not so much do I have to, as it is could I if I wanted to?

See, here is the thing. Those of us who are columnists in print are writing down our ideas for the world to read. Although I firmly believe everything I write to be true, I know that someone else may prove some of it wrong. I think this is true for everyone who writes; we are not trying to say that our opinion is the only ones that actually matter; instead, we are trying to put something out there with the hope that it will cause debate in the public forum.

In 1729 Jonathan Swift wrote an essay called "A Modest Proposal" with the subtitle "For Preventing the Children of Poor People in Ireland from being a burden to Their Parents or Country, and For Making Them Beneficial to The Public."

Essentially his plan was that the Irish, who were experiencing famine but were still staunchly Roman Catholic and therefore against birth control had the solution to their problems in their own hands. All that was needed was to accept that babies make good eating.

Of course, he was kidding . . . sort of . . . he offered a viable, if distasteful solution because he believed there were other, better, solutions available. Perhaps if you are experiencing a famine, for example, you should stop producing more mouths to feed.

Was Swift writing hate literature against the Irish?

Certainly by the standards we find ourselves trying to follow in our politically correct world his essay denigrates just about everyone imaginable -- from Jew to Laplander, landlord to beggar.

But his point was to make you think. To make you change your mind, to change the world.

That is why anyone ever dares to speak their ideas out loud -- to change things. Brian Cormier does it with humour, Brent Mazerolle with his life experiences, Norbert Cunningham through the use of language and Alec Bruce with politics, even Charles Moore with his right wing rants wants you to listen to what he has to say in order that you think for yourself.

So what if none of us ever got to say what we thought was important?

What if when I tried to write about vegetarianism the meat lobby had me shut down. What if the coffee federation silenced me when I said we should pay more for a cup of coffee because the labourers don't make enough? What if the government brought me up on charges when I suggest that detainees are being treated unfairly in military prisons?

If you have been reading Maclean's magazine this year you will realize that Canada has such a thing as a Human Rights Court, which is not really a court in a standard legal system, but a court where any individual whatsoever can bring charges that you have somehow written or published hate literature against some group.

Mark Steyn, one of the more colourful and interesting writers to grace the pages of said magazine seems to no longer be able to publish with them after a months long battle over a quote he published in an article from his own book, America Alone. In short form the quote said that Britain would have to become subject to Islamic law because the Muslims living there would not give it up without bloodshed.

A group of Muslim law students in Canada brought charges and in an amazing travesty of justice tried to ruin his career because of perceived bias.

Well . . . Steyn has a bias, but again, he writes to make you think.

Closer to home there was a cartoon, published April 18 in the Chronicle Herald newspaper in Halifax, which depicts a woman in a burka holding a sign that reads, "I want millions," and she says, "I can put it towards my husband's next training camp."

The cartoon by Bruce MacKinnon is a reference to Cheryfa MacAulay Jamal, a woman from Nova Scotia whose husband was arrested in 2006 in an anti-terrorism raid. It was not meant, say the publishers to target an entire people. Not that the intent matters once the charges are laid.

Steyn pointed out that this is the only court in the civilized world which has a 100 per cent conviction rate. Which should tell us something; there is not a single element of life where no one ever makes a mistake; unless they don't really care about following the rules.

In fact, you don't actually have to prove that anyone has caused any harm, simply that it might have the potential to cause misunderstanding, maybe, sometime, possibly . . .

Ezra Levant was the publisher of the Western Standard who decided to publish some of the infamous cartoons of the Prophet Mohamed and was subsequently brought upon charges by the Human Rights Commission of Canada.

At the end of his testimony, in which he is mostly outraged at being brought before such a "kangaroo court," the commissioner says, "You're entitled to your opinions."

To which Levant immediately responds, "I wish that were the fact."