Flip flop.

Truly an evocative word, isn’t it?

It’s a helpful symbol for a lot of politicians. Crowds can hold up sandals on sticks and boo when their candidate mentions all the times the opponent has changed her mind. It’s a common call and response.

I’ve used it in political debate many times. Just yesterday, in fact.

I’ll be straightforward: I’m personally outraged that the Premier hasn’t decided to fight for his new sex education curriculum. A few months back Stephen Harper ticked me off too–even more than usual–when he pulled support and the promise of an anthem revision from the Throne Speech.

I screamed “flip flop”.

But, at the same time I wonder, am I too quick to pull out the gimmick?

If we can’t let politicians listen to Canadians and change their minds, can public policy, civil discourse, and collaborative government take root?

There are times when elected people should hold firm to a position that’s unpopular because changing the course of action would be wrong. In other words, we can’t stand for the most vocal in society–either in the majority or minority–drowning out those with a weaker voice, but with no less a right to speak.

It’s a fine balance. Where does flip flopping end and listening start? When is “listening” really a flip flop?