John Heinzl
Globe and Mail
November 13, 2002

When Ernie Eves dropped in for a choreographed, election-style visit with a Mississauga family to announce a freeze on electricity prices, the goal was to portray the Ontario Premier as a politician with a common touch.

Instead, the episode may one day serve as the basis for a public relations textbook titled 101 Ways to Ruin a Press Conference. The ham-fisted effort has left reporters angry and PR experts scratching their heads.

First, there was the ill-chosen venue.

If Mr. Eves’ handlers were trying to depict him as a man of the people, why did they choose a 3,500-square-foot suburban home with a 50-inch Sony television and a fridge with an ice maker? This family doesn’t need lower hydro prices. It needs its own generator.

Surely, there are thousands of Ontario families who would have made a more convincing case for a hydro rate freeze.

Poor optics weren’t the only reason observers criticized the location. As expansive as the Hardatt’s home is, it wasn’t big enough to accommodate the crush of media that converged on the upscale Mississauga neighbourhood to cover the government’s stunning policy reversal, reporters said.

"It was a real disaster from a PR standpoint," said John McGrath, a CBC Radio reporter and president of the Press Gallery at Queen’s Park.

"There were certain things done that were appalling for a government news conference."

Some cameras could not even get inside the Hardatt’s home, because it was already bursting with reporters, he said. Some news organizations ended up sharing footage. That sort of thing shouldn’t happen at such an important announcement, he said.

Because of the crowds, Mr. Eves’ handlers even tried to deny entry to Tom Adams, executive director of Energy Probe, an industry watchdog, Mr. McGrath said.

Mr. Adams was eventually allowed in after Mississauga Mayor Hazel McCallion entered with no resistance, Mr. McGrath said. Reporters are so furious about the venue that yesterday Mr. McGrath was weighing whether to write a formal letter of complaint to the Premier’s office.

"It was like trying to have a picnic in the middle of Verdun," he said. "I’ve never heard the gallery so angry."

Barry Wilson, senior media adviser to Mr. Eves, put a different spin on the events. The news conference did not cause any undue inconvenience for reporters, he said, and only one expressed his disappointment at not being able to ask a question.

"All the cameras made it into" the house, he said, adding that "it is fully within our authority to choose what venue we would like to make these announcements in."

Meena Hardatt, whose home was the scene of Monday’s debacle, said in an interview that she has no political connections to the Progressive Conservative Party and doesn’t even remember how, or if, she voted in the last election.

Someone just called her family out of the blue last Friday – a friend had provided their name – and asked if they would mind having the Premier and a bunch of reporters in her kitchen. Sure, they said.

Not that Ms. Hardatt was complaining. Having the press conference in her house was a great idea, she said. Mr. Eves "showed me how [the rate freeze] related to me and how it affected me and how I would benefit. He got out his message and put my mind at ease and a whole lot of other people."

Patrick Gossage, a long-time Liberal PR strategist, said Mr. Eves’ people picked the wrong venue to make such an important announcement. They should have held it in a large room equipped for press conferences.

By holding it in a private home, there were too many distractions, he said. The goal may have been to provide fodder for the cameras, but the strategy backfired, he said.