Defence procurement in Canada is a mess. We watched former prime minister Jean Chrétien kill a Navy helicopter purchase at his first cabinet meeting in 1993 — and two decades later, no helicopters are ready to fly. We see delays in buying trucks for the Army. The F35 fighter contract is caught in a political storm and might never get off the ground for the RCAF. The horror stories are endless.
Now Public Works Minister Diane Finley and her colleague, Defence Minister Rob Nicholson, have changed the game. Hitherto, their two departments collaborated on defence procurement. Now the Industry portfolio will be represented on a permanent procurement secretariat to reside at Public Works. But there will be more faces at the table: Treasury Board, Privy Council Office and the Department of Finance.
And defence industry representatives will be brought into the discussions earlier. No more rigged specifications; no more political fooling around; no more cost overruns or delays; more economic benefits for 91ԭs. It all sounds too good to be true.
And it is.
Finley had no qualms about blaming National Defence for the procurement problems.
“What we found was that requirements are too complex,” Finley told an audience of business executives. “Too often they appear to be pre-determined outcomes. And industry is not engaged early enough.”
But let us forecast how this new process might work. Say the Army needs a new rifle. The military procurement staff know that the rifle must fire NATO standard ammunition, not weigh too much, be easy to fire and be easy to fix in action. The best available weapon, at $3,100 a rifle, is made in Belgium and is used by six NATO armies. The rifle slings, $22 each for an order of 40,000, could be made in Belleville.
The proposal goes off to the new procurement secretariat at Public Works where it joins the queue of projects. Two months later, the rifle request makes it onto the agenda.
The Defence representative makes the case for the Belgian rifle. Finance instantly says it’s too expensive and there’s no money. The Treasury Board rep insists that any contract be closely monitored to be in compliance with government guidelines. The PCO official reminds everyone an election is coming soon. The Industry rep notes that there’s a plant in Moosonee that makes replica Ross rifles — and it’s in his minister’s constituency.
Matters are shelved until the next meeting, when the Moosonee manufacturer is invited to make a presentation. Yes, she says, her basement shop can produce 30 rifles a year now, but with a big contract and subsidies, she could increase this a hundred-fold and employ 62 additional local residents, 31 of whom will be visible minorities or partially disabled and will be paid the minimum wage. Once her plant is constructed three years from now, she will be ready to roll.
But, the Defence deputy argues, the Army doesn’t want First World War-era rifles. No matter, the other departmental representatives conclude: Jobs trump defence.
Outside independent experts, knowing the result is foreordained and desperate for more lucrative contracts for themselves, second the secretariat decision. And the ministerial committee, certain they have resolved a problem, agree.
Only the soldiers in the field, throwing away their rifles because they are ineffective, just as their great-grandfathers did in 1915, could object — if they survive to return home at all.
Far-fetched? Of course. The reality, however, is not all that different. The present system was flawed, rigged and bureaucratic. The new system will get its chance, but the odds are very good that it will be flawed, rigged, bureaucratic and even more political than the present one.
Economic benefits are important in government contracts. But for defence purchases, what is truly important is putting the best equipment into the hands of our soldiers, sailors and airmen and women.
Cost matters, but their lives matter more. The new procurement secretariat must never be allowed to forget this.
J.L. Granatstein is a fellow of the 91ԭ Defence and Foreign Affairs Institute.