What’s ailing bodies politic none of our business

The anniversary of Jack Layton’s death has raised the issue, once again, of whether we as voters have a right to know all about the ailments of our politicians.

I say absolutely not — it’s none of our business.

There’s a morbid curiosity about what kind of cancer killed Layton. The most common speculation is that his prostate cancer metastasized, but why is it important that we know?

(On the other hand, I don’t get Olivia Chow’s explanation that if she were to reveal her husband’s fatal illness, other cancer sufferers would be discouraged. “… You want to give hope to other cancer patients,” she says. How about some warning along with that hope — hundreds of celebrities talk about their illnesses in order to alert the public to symptoms, causes and cures.)

Those who think we need to keep a tally of what’s wrong with people who run for office say we must know if they’ll be able to fulfill their duties once we elect them.

Presumably, they would support a law that would force prospective politicians to declare — just as they must declare their financial holdings and investments — their hernias, heart palpitations, varicose veins, skin rashes and haemorrhoids so we can decide at the ballot box if we believe they’re capable of performing the job.

Bunkum to that. We’re tough enough on politicians as it is — they’re easy targets for our discontent, and they often deserve it, but there’s a line of civility that needs to be drawn. If we don’t like their policies, we mock them with personal insults, sometimes about their physical appearance. We call overweight politicians “Potato Head” or “Dough Boy.” We make fun of their names, calling them “Gordo” and “Stevo” in weak attempts to denigrate them.

It’s churlish, but can we at least leave it at that?

There’s nothing more personal than one’s own state of health. Everyone deals with setbacks differently — some are strong enough and determined enough to carry on through serious issues and do the job better than those who are the very picture of good health.

It’s up to the candidate to decide if he or she has a health problem that will stand in the way, or if we should be informed about it. We have no more right to know the intimate details of a politician’s health than we do about his preference for boxers or briefs.

Some politicians do make the choice to tell us when they’re sick. Layton told us about his first experience with prostate cancer. So did former health minister Allan Rock. Controversial MP Chuck Cadman carried on for two years and won another election after being diagnosed with malignant melanoma.

When Kenna Cartwright ran for mayor of Kamloops in 1990, she was candid about her fight with leukemia. She won election after two tries, and served the city for only a few months before she died in office. And the only thing anyone thought about her insistence on running for election in the face of a terrible illness can be summed up in one word — admiration.

So, let’s stick to worrying about what goes on inside the body politic and less about what goes on inside the bodies of our politicians.