If we don't build it, we're doomed! - The Chaff with Scott Stephenson

Black screen. Silence thick enough to invoice. Then a single piano note, tender and resolute; the kind of note that implies both fiscal discipline and moral authority. The camera rises slowly from the soil of southwestern Ontario. Cornfields stretch with patriotic obedience. A breeze stirs. The breeze is not random. It has been focus grouped.

 

And there she is.

 

The statue of Betty White in Wingham. Thirty feet of bronze reassurance. Chin lifted. Smile calibrated somewhere between sitcom timing and provincial stability. Pigeons land upon her shoulders and immediately reconsider, as though aware they are in the presence of infrastructure.

 

The narrator begins. A voice carved from hardwood and balanced budgets.

 

“This is our home. This is our future. This is what we protect.”

 

Cut to a welder in a spotless welding mask. Sparks bloom in slow motion like taxpayer-funded fireworks. Cut to a child holding a hockey stick with cinematic resolve. No context. No explanation. Just resolve.

 

Then back to the statue. Bronze eyelids eternally open. The sun arcs behind her like a divine spotlight.

 

In the boardroom where this commercial was conceived, someone absolutely stood up and said, “What if protection was not a policy, but a feeling?” Applause followed. Not loud applause. Confident applause. The kind that knows it has secured the contract.
The genius here is restraint. We do not clutter the screen with details about what precisely is being protected. Specifics can fracture a mood. Specifics invite questions. Questions create paperwork. Instead, we present Ontarians with a sweeping orchestral declaration that something is being handled. By someone. Somewhere.

 

“Protect Ontario,” the narrator repeats, as if it were both a command and a lullaby.

 

The commercial moves through a cathedral of images. Highways gleam in the rain like polished promises. A farmer surveys his land with a look that suggests both satisfaction and narrative convenience. A factory conveyor belt glides forward bearing indistinct products that may represent prosperity. They could also represent optimism. The ambiguity is intentional.

 

Now, we introduce the statue more fully. A crane shot spirals upward. The base is engraved with words that do not explain anything but sound permanent. “Community.” “Strength.” “Forward.” The camera lingers on Betty’s bronze hands. They are open, palms slightly out, as though gently signalling to the global economy to calm down.

 

In the pitch meeting, the advertising executive likely leaned across a mahogany table and whispered, “We need an icon.” Not a politician. Not a spreadsheet. An icon. Something universally beloved and immune to cross examination. The statue of Betty White becomes that icon. She does not speak, therefore she cannot contradict. She does not legislate, therefore she cannot disappoint. She simply stands, embodying protection through posture alone.

 

Back to the montage. Construction cranes pivot in heroic arcs. The music swells again, layering strings atop percussion atop a choir that may or may not be humming the national anthem.

 

“Ontario leads,” the narrator declares. “Ontario builds. Ontario protects.”

 

From what? We are not told. The threat remains tastefully offscreen. The beauty of the campaign is that it allows every viewer to insert their own worry into the silhouette of the unknown. 

 

A final sequence unfolds like a crescendo of certainty. Families gather around kitchen tables bathed in warm light. Hardhats come off at the end of a productive day. 

 

The narrator lowers his voice to a near whisper.

 

“Strong communities. Secure jobs. A future you can count on.”

 

Count on how? Through which mechanism? By what legislation? The screen offers no such pedestrian clutter. Instead, we are given a final, soaring shot of the statue against a star-filled sky. The constellations appear to arrange themselves respectfully around her silhouette.

 

Then the words fill the screen in bold, unapologetic font.

 

PROTECT ONTARIO.

 

Paid for by the Government of Ontario.

 

And that is the masterstroke. A commercial that treats governance like a trailer for a mythic saga. A campaign that substitutes atmosphere for explanation and resonance for receipts. A monument to the idea that if you project enough confidence onto the landscape, the landscape might just accept it.

 

As the screen fades once more to black, the music resolves into a final, triumphant chord. The message lingers in the mind, expansive and oddly unanchored.

 

Protect Ontario. Build Betty.