The slow self-destruction of Rob Ford

Toronto’s mayor has become a public spectacle, and for many, a laughingstock. But for anyone who’s built a public persona that’s hidden an unpleasant truth, he’s an open wound that needs treatment.

I saw myself yesterday. I was hidden inside the Mayor of Toronto as he tried and failed to confront his demons.

He did it in front of a horde of media desperate for his resignation, to catch the moment when it all finally shattered for him. But they were frustrated, as I’m sure the people of Toronto were as well.

Rob Ford is the Mayor of Toronto. He’s admitted to smoking crack, once, “in one of my drunken stupors.” He’s showed up at community events obviously intoxicated. He’s been asked to leave formal events because he’s been intoxicated. On Saint Patrick’s Day 2013, he was discovered roaming the halls of Toronto City Hall with a half-full bottle of brandy, upset that someone had stolen his Cadillac Escalade (which was actually at home). Police surveillance found Ford disappearing from City Hall to drink vodka and grape juice in parks with a friend.

And yet he continues to believe that he is the best choice to move Toronto forward, that if he can just drink alone in his basement and not leave the house (which has been the subject of multiple 911 calls for disturbances and what are called “domestic incidents”), that this will solve the problem.

He is the face of those who live in the netherworld of deception. I’ve been in that world, and it’s an ugly place. Thankfully, it wasn’t over substance abuse, or anything so dramatic, for me. For me, it was much more cerebral, much more existential. It was about who I was, who I thought others wanted me to be, and about some fundamental misconceptions about my worth as a human being. Frankly, the specifics of my circumstances don’t matter. They aren’t the point. The facade was the point.

And the result for me was the same as the result is and will be for Ford. A reckoning that I resisted with all my might, a dark day when I was no longer able to lie to myself or others, and a shattering collapse. I thought about this as I watched the Mayor of Toronto come close to admitting that he’d lied, then step back from that admission and blame reporters for “not asking the right questions.” Then I watched him come to a microphone and say:

“I know what I did was wrong and admitting it was the most difficult and embarrassing thing I have ever had to do.

Folks, I have nothing left to hide.

I would do anything, absolutely anything to change the past but the past is in the past and we must move forward.

I want to be clear, I want to be crystal clear to every single person — these mistakes will never, ever, ever happen again.

I kept this from my family, especially my brother Doug, my staff and my council colleagues because I was embarrassed and ashamed.

To the residents of Toronto, I know I have let you down and I can’t do anything else but apologize and apologize.”

And when I heard him and watched him, blushing, sweating, voice cracking, tears standing in his eyes, I knew that he was not done yet.

I’m not a psychologist, and I’ve never met Rob Ford. But I believe he has virtually no insight into himself. I think he’s the sort of person who does things and has no idea why. He’s the son of a rich man who had a political career, and has become a rich man with a political career. I suspect that he’s grown up and lived with a sense of entitlement, that he deserves everything he has. A man named Barry Switzer — a football coach, like Rob Ford — once said that “Some people are born on third base and go through life thinking they hit a triple.” I think that’s true of Ford. His politics, his principles, are far from my personal beliefs, but that doesn’t matter right now.

What’s happening in Toronto, as Mayor Ford struggles to stay in office, is going to affect many people. The city may be affected. The media frenzy will continue. The Ford family is likely in turmoil. He has a wife. He has children. I have no doubt that this is a painful and difficult time for them.

But I can’t help but think of this as a dreadful, slow-motion auto racing accident where everyone but the driver could see that he was out of control. Now, the car is spinning and flipping and pieces are flying everywhere, and the stunned driver is disoriented, battered, and still crashing.

As a casual observer of politics, it seems like Mayor Rob Ford is a disaster. There’s water when Torontonians turn on their taps; the garbage is being picked up. But it’s impossible to imagine that this very public chaos can attract business to the city or encourage development. The politician Rob Ford is done, I think.

And from my perch,where I struggle each day to keep the facade from rebuilding, where I try to avoid the pitfalls that once hurt me and others, I feel for Rob Ford. Because I think that down deep, there are two paths for him to follow. One is to continue to hedge his bets, to deny that it’s all falling apart. Each day he does that is a day closer to a larger human disaster. The other is to admit to himself that he’s got some deep and fundamental flaws as a human; to admit that his lies to self and others have left a path of destruction, and to begin to rebuild.

In his remarks on Tuesday, Ford said “Folks, I have nothing left to hide.” Yes, he does. He has more secrets. Whether the media need to know them or not, is a function of whether they are related to Mayor Ford, the public figure, or the person. People like him — like us — are addicted to secrets. That’s likely his worst flaw.

He said “we must move forward.” He can’t. The weight of his past is on him, the weight of whatever secrets he’s kept and is keeping.

Every day that he continues to behave as he has is another day closer to the day when he hits rock bottom. And every day he waits, the further down the bottom gets. I don’t think Rob Ford should ever have been mayor of Toronto and I think he should resign immediately. Based on everything I’ve seen, I doubt I’d like him very much. But I hope that he finds bottom and begins to rebuild himself into a wiser, scarred person. Because right now, he’s an open wound.