The Lisa LaFlamme Controversy Is a Case Study in Victim Politics

Only LaFlamme’s Successor, Omar Sachedina, Comes out Smiling

It all began with news anchor Lisa LaFlamme’s video announcement on Twitter that she was “blindsided” and “still shocked” that she would not be continuing in the lead role at Canada’s CTV News. She spoke in a manner almost unimaginable for a man in a similar position, signalling with her “humbled” farewell that she believed herself to have been treated very badly by her employer.

Most people are unhappy, if not always surprised, to be fired from high-profile, lucrative positions like LaFlamme’s, but saying so in the manner LaFlamme chose, her contralto voice vibrating with emotion, was more than a personal confession or even a piece of sentimental grandstanding: it was a rallying cry that gave permission for exactly what then occurred, as fans and ideologically-aligned pundits stepped forward to denounce the alleged double standards in TV journalism, pooh-pooh CTV’s claim that the dismissal was a “business decision,” and decry the societal harm allegedly embodied in and caused by LaFlamme’s ousting.

All it took was an unnamed CTV official’s widely-reported statement that LaFlamme’s new boss, Michael Melling, had once, in a meeting, made reference to LaFlamme’s grey hair to crystallize the standard line: LaFlamme had been fired for looking old, and soon all of official Canada had arisen in a great grey wave on her behalf.

Canada’s state broadcaster, the CBC, immediately published a long article claiming that LaFlamme’s termination “sent a discouraging message to young journalists, particularly female ones.” The position of women in media is still so fragile, we are to believe, that what happens to any individual woman must be understood as happening to all. Professor Nana aba Duncan, Chair of Carleton University’s program in Journalism, Diversity and Inclusion Studies, made clear in her comments that the harm rippled out to encompass every female person associated with the broadcaster, “young journalists, women who are writers and producers at CTV, who are wondering, ‘Well, what am I here for? What am I working so hard for if, after so much time, someone we consider the queen can be so unceremoniously let go?’” It is not enough to bring women into newsrooms, Duncan’s comments seemed to suggest; they must also be assured of lifetime job security and praise.  

It didn’t seem to matter that nobody knew the actual reason for or even the exact process followed in LaFlamme’s termination: when the injured party is female, the woman-as-victim response simply writes itself, no matter how many times CTV News denied the story. Some commentators came right out and admitted their disregard for facts: “Whatever the cause of LaFlamme’s dismissal,” was the surprisingly candid avowal by two University of Waterloo academics who published in The Conversation, “the episode has once again highlighted the gendered ageism many women continue to face.” One wonders if these academics had had their article prepared months ago, needing only to slot in LaFlamme’s name and a few details to bolster their achingly predictable pronouncements about the “deeply complex” prejudices that harm older women. Ruth Marcus at The Washington Post published a similar chestnut on “the toxic intersection of ageism and sexism.”

A CNN panel summed up the issue in five glib minutes, expressing dismay on behalf of greying women, predicting a comeuppance for CTV News, waxing enthusiastic about LaFlamme’s “fabulous” look, and even ad-libbing about female pay discrimination. “I wouldn’t be surprised if part of this was money,” said one of the female commentators dismissively, “and yet I bet she makes less than her male counterparts.” The only man on the panel was apologetic throughout, even going so far as to claim that he had, in his younger days, been encouraged to frost his hair to achieve a distinguished look.

From the open letter signed on LaFlamme’s behalf, to the normally red-headed Wendy’s icon now sporting grey locks, to the aforementioned academics in The Conversation, all are now affirming LaFlamme as “an inspiring role model” in the fight against “harmful standards of beauty and aging.”

One might be forgiven for finding LaFlamme an unlikely poster girl for natural aging or for victimhood generally. In her career at CTV News, she has always been (necessarily, I suppose) ultra-coiffed and very heavily made up with the requisite blusher, eyeliner, and lipstick. As the lead anchor at a top Canadian news program, she was part of a powerful elite that promoted progressivist orthodoxies and sidelined dissenting opinions. Four years ago, she enthusiastically pursued a largely fact-free #MeToo story that derailed provincial Conservative leader Patrick Brown’s career and resulted in an eight million dollar lawsuit against CTV. A number of those who worked with LaFlamme have alleged that she and her executive producer engaged in yelling, belittling, and freezing out those who worked under them in the newsroom.

Never mind. What is useful about identity politics is its powerful simplicity of worldview and the manner in which it allows truly privileged people to bask in the soft glow of suffering for the greater good.

Amidst the pious expressions of outrage, however, a few commentators registered some qualifications to the LaFlamme story in order to make clear that although it was acceptable to express outrage at CTV’s Michael Melling and other backroom executives, it was not appropriate to direct “hate” at LaFlamme’s replacement, Omar Sachedina. (When anger boils over towards an acceptable target, it is seen as a righteous and well-deserved “backlash,” but when anger lights even briefly on a woman or person of colour, it becomes unacceptable “hate.”)

Some members of the Twitter mob that reacted to LaFlamme’s video had initially turned on Sachedina for what they perceived as his “poor timing” in announcing his new position on the very day LaFlamme released her bombshell. A few even speculated that Sachedina had played a role in LaFlamme’s ousting or at least felt no compunction in boasting about succeeding her. If Sachedina had been a white man, I suspect such unfounded allegations would have remained unchallenged, with many angry comments about how the last thing needed at CTV was yet another white-male-oppressor face.

With Sachedina, a different perspective emerged. Commentators quickly pointed out that not only was Sachedina innocent of any wrongdoing against LaFlamme, but also that as the first Ismaili Muslim anchor at CTV, he was an important “first” to be celebrated: a member of an oppressed group whose representation would help Canada become a more inclusive country. Some commentators even managed to make the LaFlamme story about a double victimization, not only of the woman who was fired, but also of the brown-skinned minority man not allowed to be properly acknowledged and celebrated.

“Lisa LaFlamme’s firing robs both a woman and man of colour of their most deserved moments,” wrote freelance writer Tracey Lindeman. Another commentator expressed anger that “the HIGHLY deserving and very qualified Omar Sachedina can’t even make a celebratory transition.” She thought it likely he was “already a target for racist trolls […] questioning why he got the role.” As the last comment made clear, it’s perfectly fine to say that someone was harmed because of their oppressed status, quite another to say they benefited by it. An article even appeared collecting such Twitter comments, “Canadians call out ‘unfair’ hate against Omar Sachedina after Bell Media ousts Lisa LaFlamme.”

The role of Sachedina, which at first glance might seem merely another wrinkle, opens a new dimension on the LaFlamme furor. It is not impossible that CTV executives, in making the decision to replace LaFlamme—whether influenced in part or whole by such issues as cost-cutting, personality conflict, or changing viewer preferences—considered it time for CTV News to lead off with a non-white face at the helm. Sachedina’s minority group identity makes it more difficult to maintain a one-way victim narrative about LaFlamme’s dismissal.  

Two years ago, on the same weekend that George Floyd’s death set off a summer of rioting and racial reckoning, a white woman quickly (and cruelly) dubbed the Central Park Karen was caught on video threatening to call police on a black man with whom she was having an argument in the park about her dog. Race activists had no sympathy for the woman, pointing out that, in situations of claimed threat, white women have always had an oppressive privilege. Renowned critical race theorist Robin DiAngelo has even gone so far as to allege that attention to white women’s expressions of pain or sadness enacts “white fragility” (133) and maintains systems of white supremacy.

Many social justice advocates would admit that racial inequities in the Canadian news media are at least as pressing, if not more so, than gender inequities. LaFlamme spent 11 years in the top position at CTV News at a time when there were plenty of white women in newsrooms across the country and few people of colour in equivalent positions.

Thus the supporters of LaFlamme may be well advised to temper their indignation in the recognition that agitation on LaFlamme’s behalf may come to look objectionable, even hateful, in relation to her successor. The LaFlamme affair may or may not illuminate prejudice against older women, but it vividly shows the increasingly volatile deployment of identity politics in Canada, where the sad stories of white women still have powerful currency but are far from the only game in town.