Article
Character
Comment
Leading
4 min read

Carney’s call for character still resonates now more than ever

In both business and politics, the vocation of public service is at risk.

Emerson Csorba works in deep tech, following experience in geopolitics and energy.

Mark Carney sits between two other speakers, holding a mic.
Mark Carney on the campaign trail.

On May 27 2014, a group of business, political and faith leaders gathered in London for the inaugural Conference on Inclusive Capitalism.  

As a 23-year-old Masters student at Cambridge University at the time, it was a defining moment, this in the final months of my first stint in the UK. One of three young people invited, I had prepared carefully and waited impatiently in line in central London on a boiling summer evening.  

The most poignant moment of the conference, in hindsight, was less the attendees or the historic venue, but rather a particular speech that I continue to reflect on a decade later.  

The speech in question was one given by the then Bank of England Governor, the Canadian Mark Carney, and it was called ‘Capitalism: Creating a Sense of the Systemic’.  

It was, and remains, one of the most impressive speeches I have heard, and whose message is as important as ever.  

It is a message that Canadians today, as well as others living in Western democracies, need to hear as much as at any time in recent history.  

In the wake of the financial crisis, Carney raised a point that is seldom asked in business or political circles - that of responsibility, and more specifically, of vocation. It is as follows: 

"To build this sense of the systemic, business ultimately needs to be seen as a vocation, an activity with high ethical standards, which in turn conveys certain responsibilities." 

And soon after: "It can begin by asking the right questions. Who does finance serve? Itself? The real economy? Society? And to whom is the financier responsible? Herself? His business? Their system?" 

He references Michael Sandel, the philosopher who in his book What Money Can’t Buy: The Moral Limits of Markets takes aim at the "skyboxification" of American life.  

The example used by Sandel is taken from the sport of baseball. In the not-too-distant past, people from across all walks of life sat together in the stands, the low ticket prices allowing baseball to be the great unifier across divides.  

Today? Expensive box seats see the rich and poor seated in different areas, the rich even physically above - looking down on - others. The same goes for ice hockey, soccer, or other sports which no longer see diverse families, across income levels, sitting together.  

In short, if you impose a price on a good or increase the price of a good significantly (baseball tickets), the nature of value of that good changes, often irreparably so. Lost is a sense of fairness, and a reduction in the potential to repair divides.  

In short, the idea of public service - that to be first, you must come last - seems increasingly bizarre to people. 

We live in a world where immediate gratification and personal enrichment are particular cultural values. If there is any tell on the character of President Trump and his new White House, it is the launch of the Trump and Melania meme coins before the Presidential Inauguration: politics used for the advancement of personal interest.  

In short, the idea of public service - that to be first, you must come last - seems increasingly bizarre to people. (A conversation with a young person several weeks ago struck me especially on this front, in which I had to explain that the purpose of politics is to serve others, not yourself.) 

Carney's 'Creating a Sense of the Systemic' speech is therefore a reminder of what we need from political leaders: people who, outside of compelling rhetoric focusing on putting their nations first, actually consider their responsibilities toward others and who take these responsibilities seriously.  

These responsibilities are vocations to which we are called. The responsibilities are not about us but rather are part of the system (made up of people and institutions) of which we are a part, and beyond. 

In Canada, the potential election of Mark Carney as Leader of the Federal Liberals, and in turn as Prime Minister, is a step in the direction of a public service focused on responsibility and vocation. It is a step toward a more vocationally oriented public service, which our world needs.  Whatever one's partisan affiliations, having political leaders acting with a sense of responsibility toward people and a higher calling beyond themselves is something we should embrace.

If Carney is to channel the same energy, poise and focus of this May 2014 speech, then there is a good chance the Canadian Federal Liberals win a future term. This is because our world is, deep down, yearning for political leadership based on real character, sense of purpose and responsibility beyond the self. But there is equally an opportunity for Pierre Poilievre to do the same, emphasizing the need for character, purpose and responsibility toward Canadians.

For Canada, it is a focus on responsibility, a sense of the broader system and our calling as Canadians in the world that can serve as a foil to the leadership in the United States.

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Explainer
Creed
Leading
Politics
6 min read

Why is it taking so long to find an Archbishop of Canterbury?

The Anglican tortoise and the Catholic hare.

Graham is the Director of the Centre for Cultural Witness and a former Bishop of Kensington.

An archbishop raises a crown about the head of King Charles.
An archbishop in action at the 2024 Coronation.

It seems the Roman Catholics have put the Anglicans to shame by the speed with which they have managed to appoint a new Pope. Pope Francis died on Easter Monday, 21 April. Pope Leo was elected on the 8 May. Seventeen days. Pretty impressive. Very few large corporations would replace a CEO in that time, or nations elect a new leader.  

Justin Welby, however, resigned on the 12 November 2024. We won't know the name of his successor until the autumn, and that person won't start in place until the spring of 2026. Well over a year.  

The Church of England is playing the tortoise while the Roman Catholics are acting the hare. 

So why is it taking so long? Is this just fusty Anglican bureaucracy? A depressing instance of Anglicans taking ages over everything, whether sorting out our divisions over sexuality or choosing a new Archbishop? 

As always, there is more to this than meets the eye.  

The first thing to say is, of course, that events took everyone by surprise. Justin Welby would have had to retire before his 70th birthday in January 2026, and the assumption had been that he would announce the date at some point before then. A process was already in place to make the appointment so that a successor could be named before he departed and start soon after, as usually happens. No-one foresaw the events that led to Welby’s surprise resignation over his handling of the abuse committed by John Smyth, outlined in the Makin Review. In the usual course of things, there would have been a relatively smooth handover. What we have is unprecedented – a year with no Archbishop of Canterbury at all.  

There is, of course, the shambles at the Canterbury end, where the diocese has taken three abortive goes at electing their representatives for the body that makes the appointment, the Crown Nominations Commission. More on that here, but even that has not had a significant effect on the timetable, which is following its predicted course, despite bumps along the way. 

Even so, many will say, could the system not have been hurried up? Maybe so, and it might have been wise to find ways to hasten the process a little, but the more fundamental answer is that’s not the way the Church of England works and never has.  

The biggest reason is that the Church of England and the Roman Catholic churches have different understandings of what the Church is and how it is governed. In short, the Archbishop of Canterbury is not the Anglican equivalent of a Pope. 

Back in the days of the English Reformation, after Henry VIII’s ego-driven separation from Rome, which enabled him to divorce his wife who was unable to give him a male heir, and marry the younger and prettier Anne Boleyn, the English church found a kind of settlement under Queen Elizabeth I, several generations later. This proposed that the ‘Supreme Governor’ of the Church of England was not to be the Archbishop of Canterbury but the Monarch. It was a way of expressing the idea that the Church of England is the Church of the people of England. It was the people of England at prayer. ‘We hold,' said Richard Hooker, the great architect of this vision, ‘that… there is not any man of the Church of England but the same man is also a member of the commonwealth.’ 

If you are a citizen of England, you have a right to be also part of the Church of England – to have your children baptised (once the vicar is sure you know what you’re letting yourself and your child in for), your marriage solemnised, and your body buried in the national church. The Church - although in a local sense is gathered group of Christians who attend public worship - exists for the people of England, whether or not they go to church regularly or not. 

Because the Church of England is the church of the people of England, a much larger group of people need to be involved when an Archbishop of Canterbury is chosen. So far, there has been a wide period of consultation, involving the remarkable figure of 11,000 people who have given input – far more than most consultations of this kind. Moreover, the group that appoints the Archbishop is made up, not just of bishops, but lay people, priests, men, women, people representing the diocese of Canterbury, five representatives of the global Anglican Communion, others representing the national Church and so on.  

The Church of England in that sense, is no respecter of persons, and refuses to treat the Archbishop as a Pope or a CEO.

For Roman Catholics, the church centres much more around its bishops. So, when it comes to choosing their leader, it makes sense to simply put all the cardinals (the most senior figures in the Catholic Church) in a room until they come up with a name from among themselves. Anglicans have a much longer, messier, more democratic process. It is not an election by a majority vote from a small electorate quickly convened, choosing among themselves, but a process of listening to a wide range of voices, both inside and outside the church.  

Because he is not a pope, the Archbishop of Canterbury is in one sense, just another bishop (the next one may be a woman, but all Archbishops so far have been men). Yes of course, he’s an Archbishop, so higher profile than the others, but he is nonetheless a bishop who takes his place among the other bishops of the CofE. Archbishops of Canterbury are regarded with respect and honour by other CofE bishops and Archbishops around the worldwide Anglican Communion, as the (Arch)bishop of the first ‘Anglican’ church – Canterbury. Yet they have no legal jurisdiction at all outside England – or even outside their own Province of Canterbury in the southern half of England. He is not the ‘spiritual leader’ of Anglicans all over the world, like the Pope is for Roman Catholics.  

As such, to put it bluntly, his appointment must take its turn among all the others in the queue. The Crown Nominations Commission is made up of people for whom this is not their day job, who give their spare time to it, and who have a programme of episcopal appointments to be made - the next in the queue are St Edmundsbury & Ipswich and then Worcester.  Canterbury has to take its turn. To enable this one to jump the queue would be saying something that Anglicans have never said - that this role is much more important than any of the others and must be given special treatment. The Church of England in that sense, is no respecter of persons, and refuses to treat the Archbishop as a Pope or a CEO, without whom the church would fall apart. 

The reason the Church of England can survive without an Archbishop of Canterbury for a while, is because its life is not dependent on a central figure, a charismatic leader, or a head office which issues instructions for all the branches to obediently follow. That may work in McDonalds but doesn’t work in the Church of England. The life of the Church of England is in its parishes and dioceses, which carry on doing their thing, even when an Archbishop of Canterbury is not available.  

Of course, it might have been possible to speed it up a little. We have missed having an Archbishop speaking in to public life and providing a lead at the national level. But there are good reasons for taking time. And it’s not just inefficiency – it’s because the Church is made up of ordinary Christians, who all deserve a say – and that takes time.  

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