The Land that Fun Forgot: Street Parties and Policing
Bruce Cameron is a pollster and communications strategist based in Calgary who has attended his share of street parties. He can be contacted at bcameron@nrgresearchgroup.com
All too often, I am reminded how much our society is moving towards becoming a glorified “Nanny State”, prohibiting or making illegal an increasing number of activities and pursuits. At what point, a thoughtful citizen is prompted to ask, does the right of the state to dictate what is dangerous or offensive end? From overly protective laws regarding noise at public music events, to prohibitions against skateboarding and smoking, to edicts requiring all of us to wear helmets or seatbelts, where does the role of the state end and the responsibility of each citizen begin?
Such philosophical musings have been the mainstay of philosophy and political science classes in Universities for centuries. It is therefore fitting that the most recent example of state and police excessiveness in pursuit of “law and order” comes to us from Queen's University, that “hotbed” of anarchy and insurrection. Founded in 1843 and populated by predominantly high achievers from the top echelon families throughout Canada and beyond, Queens University has been the focus of an intense effort by the Kingston police force, aided by RCMP and the OPP, to eliminate “Homecoming”. Homecoming is an annual ritual celebrating returning alumni that was canceled in 2008 on the grounds that all too often the weekend celebration culminated in raucous drunken street parties on several city streets adjacent to the University.
Having personally attended many Queen’s homecoming celebrations, and quite a few loud boisterous celebrations that spilled out into the streets, I can empathize with the tough choices faced by university leaders when confronted by the Kingston Police Force, who over the years had become increasingly tired of dealing with the drunken revelry. Putting forward preposterous claims of emergency rooms overflowing and lives being threatened, the Kingston Police Force spared no effort in 2009 to contain the spontaneous street parties that for decades earlier had erupted and dissipated relatively harmlessly each year. This effort included calling in mounted police forces from across the province and stockpiling riot gear.
Where on earth will it end? At what point does the effort to quell such activities actually produce greater tension and violence?
Closer to my current home, in Calgary, the debate over street parties emerged from the captivating run of the Calgary Flames to try to capture the Stanley Cup in 2004. Spontaneous celebrations spilled onto 17th Ave, which was subsequently dubbed the “Red Mile” by journalists throughout the country, taking place with an astoundingly small number of violent incidents or arrests considering crowds were estimated in the tens of thousands.
To this day, tourists ask “where is the Red Mile?” The City of Calgary, illustrating how determined it was to stamp out this spontaneous celebration on the grounds that it would be hijacked by violent law-breaking crowds who had no genuine interest in the Calgary Flames, even refused at first to even recognize the Red Mile on any maps or street signs, despite its enduring tourist appeal.
Back in the heady days of the 2004 Flames cup run, one of the keys to successfully dealing with spontaneous street celebrations was the smart and sensitive way that the Calgary Police Force enabled gatherings to proceed peacefully without trying to stop the celebrations and force people back onto the sidewalks. In subsequent years, when the crackdown on fun began in earnest, the Calgary Police Force, under different leadership, even went so far as to announce to the media that they could not guarantee their safety if they chose to attend an unsanctioned Red Mile celebration. Within 24 hours Mayor Bronconnier insisted upon a public retraction by the police, pointing out that “it’s the job of the police to ensure safety and it’s the right of citizens to gather where they wish”. Yet the police and media continued in the years that followed to focus upon a few complaints from some local residents to justify an increasingly heavy handed police presence. Tolerance for street parties evaporated, and to make the “war on fun” even more effective, an excessive enforcement of fire code and health regulations was initiated to discourage people from gathering at bars and restaurants on the Red Mile.
The result of all this marshalling of governmental oversight? Increased tension between Calgarians and their police force began to unnecessarily rise, while bar owners were subjected to tens of thousands of dollars in arbitrarily enforced breaches of capacity requirements. Interestingly, the phalanx of by-law officers, police, fire and health inspectors that now regularly descend upon bars on 17th Avenue during hockey playoffs are curiously absent from the unofficially sanctioned Stampede parties in July.
Another example of outlawing fun in Calgary is the misguided effort to eliminate all drinking from tailgate parties prior to Calgary Stampeder football games. In the city that unofficially sanctions a 10 day bacchanalian celebration called the Calgary Stampede each July, such a crackdown is ludicrous. Yet the war on fun is not restricted to Calgary or Kingston. It seems that in a politically correct world, the objections of a small handful of people who feel negatively affected by celebrations in our streets usually win out over common sense.
An American friend of mine, with a decidedly libertarian bent, summed it up succinctly when he said “the people you have to watch out for are those who claim to be doing something for your own good”. When it comes to public celebrations, it is high time to exercise judgment and prudence rather than the strict rule of law. As long as I'm not hurting someone else or infringing on their rights, let me decide what is “for my own good”.
