Prairie Dog was born to fight the right, create jobs and have fun
30 Years by Stephen Whitworth
Prairie Dog debuted on Groundhog Day 1993. The paper was the work of a loveable, slightly demented group of Regina activists, under-employed academics and amateur media enthusiasts.
The Dog’s primary mission: to provide an alternative to mainstream media’s stranglehold on public discourse.
Let’s start with some history. At the time Prairie Dog launched, Western nations were two decades into their obnoxious (and obnoxiously ongoing) love affair with neoliberal ideology, which [puts on lecturer’s cap] promotes private wealth, trade liberalism and investor’s rights ahead of local and national democracy and governance.
Neoliberalism is hostile to government regulations, social investment, consumer protections and public enterprise. Prairie Dog’s founders thought those things mattered, and thought the neoliberal perspective pretty much sucked total ass. It was (and is) a bad deal for anyone other than mega-multi-millionaire investors.
Prairie Dog’s current operators and contributors pretty much agree 1,000 per cent with their esteemed predecessors’ assessments.
Anyhoo, global neoliberalism (not to be confused with anti-vaxxers’ entirely fictional “new world order” delusions) was heavily promoted by media monopolies like Conrad Black’s Hollinger, which in the early ’90s made a habit of purchasing local Canadian papers (including the Leader-Post) and gutting newsrooms to increase profits. Local reporting in those papers declined (and continues to decline, RIP StarPhoenix offices) while more and more centrally mandated columns and editorials incessantly argued for lower taxes, cutbacks, austerity and privatization — all the fun stuff that’s created Canada’s soaring gap between the rich and the rest.
Prairie Dog was launched, first and foremost, to counter all this brainwashing nonsense through good journalism and punditry.
We’ve had our hits and misses but I think, I think, on balance, we’ve done all right.
Smite The Religious Right
This part is hard for me to write without racking up a five-figure word count that’s 50 per cent F-bombs. I’ll try to keep it brief and polite. Prairie Dog has always been rabidly opposed to social conservatism, which in Western Canada, surged in popularity after the collapse of the hated Brian Mulroney Progressive Conservatives. Back in the day the people behind the ‘Dog were alarmed by the popularity of Preston Manning’s reactionary Reform Party and rise of the religious right, which xenophobically attacked (and continues to attack) women’s rights, LGBTQ rights, sexual freedoms, other cultures, dancing, music, art, movies, cartoons, spicy food and whatever else radical religious buttocks can be clenched over on a given day.
They thought, and we think, that good people gotta oppose that stuff. We also think it’s also crucial to let others know they’re not alone in opposing this, pardon my language, horseshit.
You can see by now that in 2023 we’ve not mellowed — if anything, we’re foaming at the mouth now more than ever (I know I am!). Given, for one example, the scandals exploding in Saskatchewan Christian schools these days, it feels like our cheerfully unhinged hatred of repression continues to be needed.
Happy to be of service.
Good Times With Job Creation
Our paper’s founders had a third goal in mind, as well: they wanted to build a stable, worker-operated local enterprise with meaningful careers for Reginans who otherwise would have to leave the province. Let’s recall that 1990s Saskatchewan was nearly destroyed by a two-headed dragon: massive public debt (thank you, Grant Devine PCs) and a global recession.
I have a friend who calls ’90s Regina “the time you couldn’t even get a job at McDonald’s”.
I moved here in 1998, and I was shocked by how few people there were my age. There’s a reason Rider gear sells so well across Canada: an entire generation of Saskatchewanians left to find work in other provinces.
I was also appalled at the lack of job opportunities. I mean, I had friends suggesting I apply at 7-11. A mouthy, mostly unqualified twit like me? Yikes.
Thank goodness Prairie Dog’s been an itty bitty part of the solution to that problem.
In conclusion, I’m proud to continue, with the help of a great group of people, the work of the good folks who founded this goofy paper. I don’t know about another three decades, but I hope — and more importantly, I think — Prairie Dog will be around for a while yet. And that’s a big deal for any media outlet, alternative, independent or otherwise, in the year 2023.
Happy anniversary, Prairie Dog! ■