Yukonomist: How to get a building named after yourself

After 46 years under the descriptive but prosaic title “Headquarters Administration Building,” the Yukon Government Headquarters was renamed after legendary Yukon Commissioner Jim Smith.

I grew up hearing stories about Smith from my father, who regularly engaged with him on business and community projects. I also had the privilege of interviewing Smith on camera for the Northwestel Community Television series on Yukon Commissioners.

It’s uncommon these days to name things after people because, upon closer inspection, they seem all too human. Young Yukon leaders of all backgrounds may be debating whether it makes sense for the government to rename a building after a 20th-century historical figure, which is a fair debate. But you may also be wondering how an Atlin butcher came up with the adjective “legendary.” The more ambitious among you will have a more specific question: How do I get a large building named after me?

The Yukon could use more effective economic and governmental leadership, so here are four Smithian tips for those moving up the field.

The first is to have a vision. To mark Canada’s 100th anniversary, he brought Prime Minister Pearson the idea of ​​a Yukon Scholarship to support artisans and university students in the Yukon. He didn’t think “how can I get more money out of Ottawa”. Pearson asked if the scholarship should be conditional on the students returning to work in the Yukon. Smith explained his vision that the grant is a way for the Yukon to come of age and contribute to the country. The scholarship would be unconditional, and Yukon recipients would be “educated Canadians and contributing to the general good of the country.”

He also developed a bold vision for the Yukon economy in partnership with a young federal minister named Jean Chretien. The Carr Report laid out a 20-year path to a thriving industrial economy and a population of 57,000 by 1985.

Smith would not achieve his goals. In 1973, the Yukon was caught unawares by an unexpected Middle East war, rising oil prices, and a decade of stagflation. The population in 1985 was less than half of the target.

But though he failed, Smith’s ambitions left us with the great dams, highways, and airports we take for granted today.

The second tip is to be an active listener. It used to seem like you couldn’t walk down Main Street without bumping into Smith. He has an open-door policy at the office and said First Nations leader Elijah Smith often dropped by to talk about the day’s topic. This was important at a time when First Nations leaders were writing Together Today for our Children Tomorrow and planning their journey to Chretien in Ottawa.

If you watch current Yukon politics long enough, you will begin to see a recurring series of events. A minister announces something. someone is complaining The minister says he or she consulted extensively. Citizens concerned become angry and say the details are new to them, that their petition has been ignored or that they have not been given a meeting with the minister.

If a minister told Smith the consultation plan was to conduct an online poll and hold a few public meetings at times when many people are unable to attend, Smith would advise getting out of the Smith Building bubble and speaking to people who disagree with you.

I think of Smith when I hear volunteers from the Yukon Board of Directors discuss how they wish they could communicate directly with key decision makers. Whitehorse might be three times the size it was in Smith’s day, but it’s not Washington, DC.

The third tip is relationships. Smith actively built relationships in the Yukon and with our key partners. This was closely related to his love of getting out of the office and talking to people. Many of his stories were about working with someone with whom he had developed a good working relationship.

These included Elijah Smith on First Nations issues, Jean Chretien on federal issues, and Alaska Governor Bill Egan. Smith, Egan and Northwest Territories Commissioner Stuart Hodgson worked together to start the Arctic Winter Games. He never told me about attending conferences and speaking on panels, but his stories were interspersed with phone calls and meetings at key moments.

The reason we have Skagway Street is because Smith managed to persuade Chretien, who helped plan the Carr report, to write a letter saying that the FBI for the road and its maintenance would pay. He then flew to Victoria with his friend at the Arctic Winter Games, Governor Egan, to pitch the idea to a newly elected Prime Minister of British Columbia.

The last Smithian tip is to have a tendency to act. The Smith Building houses not only the legislature but also the executive branch. While common parlance associates the word “executive” with overpaid, unpredictable bigwigs who fly to conferences, at its core, the word is about getting things done.

He would probably say that the current government is too focused on politics and communication and turning away from execution. All levels of government have many carefully presented policy announcements but struggle to implement them on the ground. Great leaders of the future will be able to do both.

And Smith got things done. He told me that the Yukon government wanted to build a cul-de-sac on the north bank of the Pelly River connecting Pelly Ranch to the highway. Since the official responsible could not be reached, the commissioner filled out the federal subsidy application himself.

He also had the main administration building built. It was a big and controversial project at the time. The earlier plan, featuring a large central tower (see photo), may have seemed too outlandish for construction in 1976, but the skyscraper provisions in this year’s official community plan show that Smith was—once again—ahead of his time.

Even after leaving office, he remained in action mode. Seeing that the scholarship wasn’t enough for some Yukoners, he co-founded the Yukon Foundation, which now supports over 150 students a year.

Today, the Yukon seems to be adrift, being carried somewhere by a massive river of federal funds like a canoe with no one to paddle. We’re moving, but is it toward a target, a sandbar or a sweeper?

The next generation of leaders will do well to take a few tips from Jim Smith to guide the Yukon through the 21st century.

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Commissioner Jim Smith’s interview with Keith Halliday is available on YouTube as part of Northwestel Community TV’s Our Yukon Commissioners.

Keith Halliday is a Yukon economist, author of the adventure novels Aurore of the Yukon, and co-host of the Klondike Gold Rush History podcast. He is a Ma Murray Award winner for Best Columnist.