They have become an essential part of Prime Minister Harper's campaign stops. They stand around him, cheering his election pronouncements and gleefully nodding when he talks about his government's achievements: strong economy at home, security in an increasingly dangerous world.

Covering the 'Great Wall of Harper Campaign' read more

But whenever the CBC or CTV news channels cut to one of his live announcements, I'm always left a bit puzzled by the Conservative campaign's strategy. At first glance, it seems to make sense: carefully hand-pick a group of diehard supporters who will do nothing but shout hurray for the PM and his policy announcements, laugh uproariously at his jokes (even if they're really mediocre) and shout down any dissenters.

But the image of a happy leader surrounded by happy people could backfire as a strategy, given how the press conference typically goes over. Harper makes his announcements to all sorts of giddiness from the crowd. Then comes what appears to be the most hated thing in the prime minister's existence: actual questions from actual journalists. And when he's asked what seems like a perfectly reasonable question, his crowd of supporters inevitably breaks into a round of loud boos and hisses, and even catcalls like "End the CBC!" Harper is often seen gently telling his supporters to quiet down so he can hear the question, but it's hard to buy the image of him as the voice of calm reason when you know his handlers carefully selected the group.

The mob anger hit what appeared to be a new low yesterday, when a journalist who was asking a question about the refugee crisis was interrupted by a heckler who rhetorically asked if children drowning in Canadian pools was somehow also the prime minister's fault. The logic of the analogy was so preposterous it defied a response.

Crowd control?

It's moments like these that make it clear that all this meticulous crowd control is backfiring, and the micro-caressing of optics looks, well, entirely staged. Call me crazy, but isn't asking questions part of the democratic process? This is, after all, a man elected to the highest office in the land, paid with taxpayer dollars, who's now in the middle of an election campaign. Doesn't that mean that taking a few questions is part of what he should be doing? The loud, angry boos from his entourage make Harper look less like a man running for reelection than someone entirely at odds with accountability and transparency -- basic buzzwords of conservative strategists everywhere, and things he campaigned on when in the opposition.

The Harper crowd's nastiness was personified by one supporter last month, who was captured by the cameras after a press conference, accusing journalists of creating "fantasy scandals" and calling one reporter a "lying piece of shit." Conservatives insisted he was just one bad angry apple, but he became digital meme by looking like the apt summary of their attitude towards having to ever answer an actual question and endure some scrutiny.

As the Ottawa Citizen revealed last week, only five per cent of Conservative candidates agreed to their request for interviews. For a party that boasts of a great track record at governance, they seem to be allergic to the notion of actually talking about what they've been up to. What the public might not realize is that when Harper is asked a question at a press conference, that question has already been vetted by one of his campaign managers. His scrutiny has been limited and managed, part of the reason his supporters seem so shocked when he's asked an actual pointed question.

Anger management issues

On some level, keeping potentially aggressive reporters away might seem to make sense. It certainly would have in the case of Immigration Minister Chris Alexander, who seemed completely lost when questioned by CBC Power & Politics host Rosemary Barton about the government's policies on refugees last week -- an interview which now appears to mark a turning point in this hotly-contested campaign.

But the aversion to queries also creates the distinct possibility of making the Conservatives look like a party mired in delusion. At best, the crowds surrounding Harper look like salivating dogs, eagerly awaiting their treats after cheering on command. At worst, they look like an angry, vicious mob, shouting down anyone who utters potential dissent, about a heartbeat away from resorting to violence as a means of making their point.

Despite the fact that we're in the middle of an election, the crowds the Conservatives have assembled don't inspire much faith in democracy.