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The North American circus market once looked much like today's Canadian political marketplace. It featured cutthroat competition by two dominant players, Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey, which later merged, plus some smaller regional circuses.

Each offered their declining audiences variations on traditional circus fare – slapstick clown humour, animals and acrobats, a few star performers, “circus” food – all in the traditional venue of three rings in a tent, at a relatively low price.

The industry's rising costs and declining public interest, especially among the young, meant the circuses were in big trouble – like democratic politics in Canada. But then along came two former street performers who reinvented the circus and attracted a whole new audience for what became known as Cirque du Soleil.

Where did they come from? How did they do it? And could their strategies reinvent and re-energize democratic politics in this country?

It sounds like a fantastic notion. And it is fantastic. So is Cirque du Soleil – fantastically successful, employing more than 3,500 people from 40 countries, bringing in audiences of more than 70 million people, earning annual revenue in excess of $700-million (U.S.) and attracting investment from the government of Dubai, which recently purchased a 20-per-cent stake in the Cirque.

Guy Laliberté and Daniel Gauthier were two enterprising Québécois with experience busking in street fairs – a near-circus grassroots entertainment genre that is particularly well developed and popular in Quebec.

What did they and their friends do to reinvent the circus? Over a period of years, they got rid of some traditional trappings that had outlived their usefulness and appeal – for example, the animals, which were very costly to maintain and transport. They retained and upgraded other offerings, such as the venue – three rings became one – the food and the humour. And they incorporated offerings drawn from the theatre, ballet, gymnastics, and synchronized swimming, to attract new customers. Blue Ocean Strategy, by W. Chan Kim and Renée Mauborgne, provides an in-depth discussion of this approach.

What's the relevance for Canadian politics? Consider the following.

If some reinvention of our democratic politics is to take place, it will likely originate in one of the two regions with track records of political entrepreneurship and innovation: Quebec or the prairies. And if our political circus is going to be reinvented, could the process be led not by traditional high-level politicians, strategists or academics but by street-level activists engaged in advocacy or interest-group work at the grassroots level?

If our political innovators were to get rid of some of the traditional trappings of the current political circus that have outlived their usefulness and appeal, what might go? How about the daily Question Periods in the legislatures. These gong shows, in which the most aggressive political animals on both sides vie for 10-second evening news hits, have an increasingly negative image among the public. Yet this is the image of our parliamentary system most frequently presented on television, contributing significantly to the declining respect for politicians, parties and Parliament itself.

Of course, if we do away with Question Period in its present form, it would have to be replaced by something better. How about Answer Period, in which government ministers could still be held to account but also have meaningful opportunity to explain and defend their positions?

If political innovators were to upgrade some of our current political processes, how about the way we nominate candidates for elected office? Now, most candidates are nominated at an electoral district nominating meeting organized by the local party executive, with only constituency party members eligible to attend and vote. In the federal arena, this means 308 separate meetings per party, each at a different time and place – a 308-ring circus, if you will, with very small rings. Few of them attract more than local media or public attention.

But suppose we were to amalgamate these 308 small rings into 10 big ones, using a provincewide primary system to choose all the federal candidates for one province, all on the same day, with any citizen willing to register eligible to vote. Would we not raise the profile of the nominating process and the key races sky high, dramatically increasing media and voter interest?

And if our political innovators were to incorporate some additional offerings to attract participation from alternative, quasi-political arenas – such as civil society, advocacy groups and the social-networking world – what might they be?

Suppose, for example, that the next time you went to the polls to vote in a federal election, you got two ballots. One would be the traditional ballot, on which you would vote for the candidate of your choice. The second would be a “referendum ballot,” on which you would be asked your position on three or four of the major issues facing the country – on keeping our troops in Afghanistan, for example, or two-track health care, or entering into some international environmental agreement.

The election campaign would then be characterized not just by the usual party campaigns on behalf of candidates, but also by several substantive “issue campaigns,” fuelled by the active and vigorous participation of the “near political” forces. Would this not increase involvement in the electoral process?

The innovators who created Cirque du Soleil did one other most significant thing. By creating a circus with a single ring and no animals, with performers rather than a technical crew, and with fewer of the traditional barriers separating audience from actors, they succeeded in drawing the audience into their performance to a far greater extent than the traditional circus had ever done.

If Cirque de la Politique could do the same for Canadian politics, our democratic deficit would be a thing of the past.