Michael Ignatieff on the campaign trail in 2011. Many saw the Ignatieff train-wreck as proof that intellectuals can’t compete in politics without being tarred with the ‘elitist’ brush. THE CANADIAN PRESS/Frank Gunn

More from Tasha Kheiriddin available More fromavailable here

Linda McQuaig is perhaps one of the most, er, challenging writers for a small-c conservative to read. Her prose leans so far left it practically falls off the page; in a Toronto Star column this past spring, she extolled the late Venezuelan dictator Hugo Chavez as a “feisty mix of Robin Hood, Che Guevara and Michael Bublé”.

Topping this off was a photo of the beaming author shaking hands with her subject — a man who not only ran his country’s economy into the ground but “undercut the ability of journalists, human rights defenders and other Venezuelans to exercise fundamental rights,” according to Human Rights Watch.

Now McQuaig wants to join the political class herself, announcing this week that she will seek the NDP nomination in Toronto Centre. And she’s not the only journalist of “progressive” inclination to enter the fray: Chrystia Freeland, formerly of the Globe and Mail and Thomson Reuters, and author of the recent bestseller Plutocrats: The Rise of the New Global Super-Rich and the Fall of Everyone Else, will campaign for the Liberal nomination in the same electoral district, as will Jennifer Hollett, journalist-turned-political activist.

Whatever your political leanings, you have to respect anyone who a) holds a belief system and b) steadfastly defends it (in McQuaig’s case, producing nine books in the process). You also have to respect anyone willing to don the label “politician” at a time when opinions of the profession have never been lower, and cynicism has never been higher.

To most Canadians, the House of Commons is a vat of vitriol — the Senate a sinecure for scoundrels. That’s if they’re even paying attention: According to a recent report by Samara, only 40 per cent of Canadians discussed a political or social issue by phone, and only 17 per cent shared political content on social media. A 2012 Ipsos-Reid poll found that 57 per cent of those surveyed either “don’t really trust” or “don’t at all trust” the federal government to do the right thing, while 84 per cent either strongly or somewhat agree that federal politicians aren’t tuned in to what matters to average Canadians.

The job of inspiring the electorate and running a country does not necessarily require an ability to cite Plato. Surrounding oneself with smart people, however, is a must.

In this climate, why leave the perch of punditry and/or superstar author status to slug it out in question period? McQuaig proffered that she does not want to “just be on the sidelines commenting, but to jump in and try to actually bring about change.” Freeland, meanwhile, says that “for me, the time is now to put my name in the race to serve the residents of Toronto-Centre and give back to a system that can work to address some of the greatest economic challenges of our time.”

In this case, the bromides may just be true. The Canadian centre-left is feeling its oats, inspired by polls showing an appetite for change and low satisfaction with the federal Conservative government’s performance. For thinkers who truly want to change the system, there may be no better time to make the leap.

But do public intellectuals make the best politicians? Detractors point to the brief tenure of erstwhile Liberal leader Michael Ignatieff, while supporters cite the long career of Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau. While the latter led his party, and the country, for 13 years (albeit in questionable directions), the former lasted just three years as leader before dragging his party to a calamitous third-place finish in the 2011 election.

However, it is important to distinguish between party leaders, cabinet ministers and MPs. The job of inspiring the electorate and running a country does not necessarily require an ability to cite Plato. Surrounding oneself with smart people, however, is a must. So is surrounding oneself with people who can deliver the message without messing it up. “Political communications” is now a distinct field of study in university: never mind the ideas you are communicating, getting the message across is the end goal. In the era of the sound bite, that would appear to put long-form thinkers at a disadvantage.

But that’s not necessarily true if there are smart people on both sides of the aisle. Consider the debates over national unity, free trade and other issues of national importance in the 1970’s and 80’s. Politicians of substance, at all levels and of all political stripes, made a difference: Robert Bourassa, Rene Levesque, Peter Lougheed, Marc Lalonde, Ed Broadbent and — love him or loathe him — Trudeau. It was the clash of ideas between equals that made politics interesting and engaging.

Thus, regardless of their individual success or failure, the presence of intellectuals in politics can only raise the level of public discourse. And despite the image of the federal Conservatives as the “anti-intellectual” party, the government front bench harbours some deep thinkers who need sparring partners, such as ministers Jason Kenney, James Moore and Chris Alexander.

So kudos to McQuaig, Freeland and Hollett for putting themselves out there. Spirited exchanges on issues that matter could not only reignite Canadians’ passion for politics, but restore nobility to a profession that sorely needs it.

Tasha Kheiriddin is a well-known political writer and broadcaster who frequently comments in both English and French. In her student days, Tasha was active in youth politics in her hometown of Montreal, eventually serving as national policy director and then president of the Progressive Conservative Youth Federation of Canada. After practising law and a stint in the government of Mike Harris, Tasha became the Ontario director of the Canadian Taxpayers Federation and co-wrote the 2005 bestseller, Rescuing Canada’s Right: Blueprint for a Conservative Revolution. Tasha moved back to Montreal in 2006 and served as vice-president of the Montreal Economic Institute, and later director for Quebec of the Fraser Institute, while also lecturing on conservative politics at McGill University. Tasha now lives in Whitby, Ontario with her daughter Zara, born in 2009.

The views, opinions and positions expressed by all iPolitics columnists and contributors are the author’s alone. They do not inherently or expressly reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of iPolitics.