The quiet intellectual goes for results, not histrionics

Share

He's soft-spoken, intense and introverted. A consummate backroom player, Adrian Dix wasn't one of former B.C. NDP leader Carole James's star recruits when he made the transition to the frontlines of politics in 2005.

As he replaces her as leader, Mr. Dix credits Ms. James with giving him the space to grow into the role of a politician, by letting him champion issues without applying the leader's prerogative to snatch the spotlight.

But in appealing to New Democrats in this contest, Mr. Dix is promising a different style from Ms. James, who stepped down in December in the face of a caucus revolt. (Mr. Dix was among her loyalists, and has notably attracted no endorsements from the so-called Baker's Dozen who pushed Ms. James out.)

His style? More vigorous, more sharply defined, one that he promises will engage voters. "People are aching for a choice," he said in an interview. "I think the path to victory is to bring people who didn't vote back to the political process."

His approach would be to tackle what he sees as a growing gap in the province between the haves and the have-nots, starting with higher corporate taxes. It's the kind of wedge politics that defined the 1996 provincial election campaign - the last time the NDP won power in B.C.

Mr. Dix, who turns 47 on Wednesday, was drawn into political activism in the early 1980s. It was a heady time for a student of politics - the Social Credit government of the day had triggered a province-wide strike, Operation Solidarity, in response to its restraint program.

At a political seminar at the University of British Columbia in 1984, the two "lefties" in the room gravitated towards each other. Tim Pearson remembers fellow student Adrian Dix as a quiet intellectual.

"His values today are almost exactly the same as they were, he wanted to stick up for the little guy, he had a passion for fairness, equality." The pair ended up as roommates in Ottawa. They'd play touch football on Sundays, where Mr. Dix showed his competitive side. "The games were intense," he said, "but friendly."

Mr. Dix started out door-knocking in a federal campaign for Ian Waddell. The campaign manager was Glen Clark, who would later name Mr. Dix his chief of staff when he moved into the premier's office in 1996.

On ideology and strategy, Mr. Dix is frequently compared with Mr. Clark - who supported his leadership bid. But Mr. Dix is not cut of the same cloth as the gregarious Mr. Clark. He describes his wife, Renée Saklikar, as the extrovert in the family.

But he said he doesn't need to be centre stage. "When I am most successful in politics is when I show and don't tell," he said.

He recalled standing in a hushed legislature, hammering at the Liberal government on the failings of its child-protection system. "There were no histrionics, just questions." It was effective - Mr. Dix quickly earned a reputation as one of the opposition's most able critics.

Since he entered the leadership race in January, Mr. Dix looked like a frontrunner. He ran a well-orchestrated campaign with solid fundraising - more than $150,000 in a campaign with a $2,500 cap on individual donations. But he has not been pegged as the unity candidate, a point that rankles him.

Even when his membership signups were attacked by his rivals, Mr. Dix said, he didn't fire back.

"You have to have the second election in mind, always," he said, referring to the provincial vote that will come in the next two years. The party can't afford divisions now, he said, and his chief rivals, Mike Farnworth and John Horgan, will be major figures in the caucus.

"I'm going to need them."