The Not-So-Great Debate

A messy debate, featuring extremists, fumbles, and a whole lot of noise.

The Not-So-Great Debate

Cover photo at 75% - Edited by author

This week in The Incline:

…but before we start

10 more days to go. We’re zipping toward election day with reckless abandon. Aside from last week’s debate (which is the topic of this week’s edition - it took me that long to re-watch the whole event over and over and over, enter therapy as a result, and process my feelings well enough to string together my thoughts), there haven’t been many big waves so far in the campaign.

Advance voter turnout is still well below what it was in 2022. So far, around 18,600 advance ballots have been cast, representing a 40% decrease from last election. If that trend continues through the last weekend of advance voting tomorrow and Sunday, we may still be on track for voter turnout somewhere in the mid-to-high 20’s.

Candidates are still out there, doing what they can to engage the electorate. Councillors Cameron Kroetsch and Nrinder Nann will be joined by candidate Kojo Damptey for a Reddit “Ask Me Anything” (AMA) session on Monday, October 19 from 7:00 PM to 9:00 PM. Wards 8 & 14 HWDSB trustee candidate Ben O’Reilly will also be hosting an AMA the following day, Tuesday, October 20, from 7:30 PM to 9:30 PM.

On the last point, it’s nice to see some trustee candidates still putting in the work to connect with voters. My #HamOnt 2026 School Trustee Candidate Factsheet continues to be updated and now includes the endorsements of the Campaign Life Coalition (an organization which also comes up in the main piece for this week). Five HWDSB trustee candidates have been given a positive rating from the group, as has one HWCDSB trustee candidate. I’ll keep updating that sheet until the election.

Okay, on to the debate:

Debate me!

Ah, the grand democratic spectacle that is the all-candidates debate.

Messy, unpredictable, career-defining.

They give us soundbites that live on, like Brian Mulroney’s iconic “You had an option, sir,” to the hapless John Turner in the election of 1984. Or Jack Layton’s “You know most Canadians, if they don’t show up for work, they don’t get a promotion,” to the truant and floundering Michael Ignatieff in 2011. Or Lloyd Bentsen’s ‘88 Vice Presidential slapdown of Dan Quayle with the retort “Senator, I served with Jack Kennedy. I knew Jack Kennedy. Jack Kennedy was a friend of mine. Senator, you’re no Jack Kennedy.”

And, one day, maybe the line from the Hamilton mayoral debate of October 8, 2026, when Andrea Horwath was caught on a hot mic flippantly saying “I’m outta here.”

Oops.

As debates go, last Thursday’s Cable 14 mayoral debate - the only publicly televised mayoral debate of the campaign - was, to use a technical term, a complete mess.

It consisted of three rounds. Round one featured three local reporters - the CBC’s Justin Chandler, CHCH’s Emily Tayler, and Mac Christie of The Spec - directing questions to the frontrunners (and one to the first candidate listed on the ballot). A brief round two involved unedited viewer-submitted questions. Round three gave us some candidate back-and-forths that provided some of the most interesting and revealing moments.

The debate, as messy as it was, gave us an idea about state of the campaign at this late stage.

It showcased the “lesser known” candidates, highlighting some stand-outs, some that aren’t quite ready for prime time, and an avowed neo-Nazi.

It gave the impression that the mayor is having a tougher time than she might have originally expected and that the reality of her campaign’s prospects might be sinking in.

And, importantly, it showed just how right-wing Rob Cooper is - something that should be setting off alarm bells for women, queer people, and anyone a hair to the left of the MAGA movement in the States.

So let’s recap the debate and what it might mean for October 26.

Frommdom of Speech

Right off the bat, the debate stage was uncomfortably crowded.

There are debates about debates all the time. Who should be let in, who shouldn’t, what the criteria should be for entry, etc. After the utter chaos that was this mayoral debate, I hope that will be a conversation we have in Hamilton before 2030.

Major debates tend to establish some basic criteria to determine entry. The Federal Leaders’ Debate Commission maintains that, to be included, a party leader must meet two of three criteria: have at least 1 sitting MP, have received at least 4% support in the average of national opinion polls 28 days before the election, or have endorsed candidates in at least 90% of federal ridings. That’s why the 2025 debate only featured Mark Carney, Jagmeet Singh, Yves-François Blanchet, and Pierre Poilievre. There were 16 possible leaders that could have been on stage (17 if you included both of the Green Party leaders), but the Commission selected the four who led parties that met their criteria and, therefore, had the most likely chance of becoming Prime Minister or, at the very least, Leader of the Opposition.

The consortium of legacy media partners who organized the Cable 14 debate decided to eschew the tradition of limiting entry to candidates who had met a threshold of viability. Instead, they invited all 13 registered candidates to participate. Of them, only David Harrison - a relative unknown who is, according to the Spec’s Vote Compass tool, the most economically right-wing candidate of the bunch - decided to skip the event, leaving 12 candidates on stage.

Among those 12 candidates was Paul Fromm, perennial candidate and open neo-Nazi.

Fromm’s beliefs are well-known. A 19-year old Fromm was profiled in the Toronto Telegram in 1967 after he founded the far-right Edmund Burke Society, which advocated against sanctions on apartheid South Africa and the white supremacist government of what was then called Rhodesia.1

Since then, he’s become one of Canada’s most prominent white supremacists and neo-Nazis. During his past two mayoral runs in Hamilton, he’s been excluded from public events because of his extremist views. He’s made no effort to hide his beliefs. Indeed, he’s taken to social media during this campaign to decry the “demography-changing invasion engineered by traitors in the Laurentian elite”, promote the anti-Semitic “Great Replacement Theory”, and stoke hatred against people of South Asian origin.

Despite this, Hamilton’s legacy media knowingly platformed an avowed neo-Nazi and broadcast his message to the people of this city.

To his credit, Chandler made reference to Fromm’s white supremacist views and asked Loomis how he would tackle hate if he became mayor. Loomis replied, saying, “We need to call out hate when it shows up around the table…in a Cable 14 debate, for example, and we have to say that it’s unacceptable. It’s unacceptable, in fact, that the candidate is here…I believe [he] shouldn’t have have been invited.”

After Fromm tried to hide behind John Diefenbaker’s Bill of Rights (a statute from 1960 with limited effect that’s not nearly as relevant as the Charter of Rights and Freedoms and, to him, not nearly as important as laws on hate speech), the other candidates chimed in to (mostly) agree with Loomis.

Fromm, glib and sputtering, muttered “Cuba north. Cuba without the palm trees…so this is tolerance.”

That might be the only saving grace from all of this. Including Fromm in a mayoral debate a) allowed both Chandler and the other candidates on stage to point out that he’s an open racist, and b) gave Hamiltonians a chance to see one of the least charismatic people to ever seek elected office.

Throughout the debate, Fromm attempted to parrot traditional conservative talking points about taxes and roads and city hall salaries, but came across as a doddering old man, out-of-place and out of his depth.

His poor performance aside, Fromm’s inclusion was, from my perspective, an upsetting failure to maintain a firewall against fascism and hatred in this city.

We all know that hate crimes are on the rise, political extremism is eroding the foundations of our democracy, and many across this city - people of colour, members of Indigenous communities, newcomers, women, queer Hamiltonians - often feel unsafe simply being themselves here. Just yesterday, Ward 14 council candidate Kojo Damptey posted that a white supremacist group called for him to be “deported” and that he would be “banned from running for any political position” once they “take power”. The laughability of that last bit aside, that’s the kind of hate that many politically-active women, racialized people, queer folks, and other people from historically-marginalized backgrounds face on a day-to-day basis in Hamilton.

The city’s legacy media establishments willingly platforming a neo-Nazi doesn’t strengthen our civic dialogue. It amplifies, normalizes, and mainstreams hate.

A cloud of noise

The debate was a chance for Hamiltonians to meet the candidates outside the four frontrunners.

Let’s face it: not many Hamiltonians can name the top four candidates for mayor. Beyond Keanin Loomis, Rob Cooper, Andrea Horwath, and Scarlett Gillespie, you’d be hard pressed to find anyone who could name any other candidate, with the exception of Fromm and maybe Ejaz Butt, but only of they’ve come to a complete stop at a stoplight in the city at any point over the past four years and, out of boredom, let their eyes wander to one of his weathered stickers that are splattered across our civic landscape.

So the Cable 14 debate gave us an intro to some of the other people who have stepped up to offer themselves to the electorate.

Rounding out the ballot are Sasha Austin, David Mark Cherkewski, Erin Janus, Pam Mitchell, Kevin Walker, and perennial candidate Nathalie Xian Yi Yan.

Among them, the definite stand-out was Erin Janus.

Janus was confident and to-the-point, calling on Hamiltonians to embrace grassroots activism as a way to have their voices heard. With clarity and precision, Janus asked some important questions and highlighted some very good issues. But, in the general haze of the debate, Janus was unable to break through, limited by the rowdiness of the other participants and by the very, very occasional strictness of the moderator. With more of a profile, Janus could easily be a leader in the city’s progressive movement.

Another notable participant was David Mark Cherkewski.

Cherkewski spoke well and passionately, highlighting a sense of frustration that many have about the city’s stalled progress. But when Janus called for candidates to raise their hands if they agreed that Fromm should not have been invited to the debate, Cherkewski was the only person (other than Fromm) to not agree, later justifying his stance by saying Fromm had “freedom of speech”. He didn’t have a lot of concrete ideas and faded into the background during much of the back-and-forth despite having a more commanding opening statement than most.

Overall, the other candidates on the ballot show that democracy provides space for everyone to have a say, take a stand, and aspire to public office to do good by their community. At the same time, public service requires the right blend of experience, passion, openness to new ideas, commitment to values, clear communication, respect, dedication, and drive.

This debate proved that only some of the people on the ballot have what it takes to be the mayor. Most of the people around the table came across as, at best, eccentric participants at a community meeting and, at worst, disruptive hecklers.

The messiness started early in the debate. During the “questions to the frontrunners (and select others)” section, other candidates were given a chance to jump in and provide their perspectives following a one-minute answer from the candidate to whom the question was directed.

And, oh boy, did some of the candidates jump in.

One of the first questions to the candidates set the tone for the rest of the debate.

CHCH’s Emily Tayler asked Gillespie about how the municipality should deal with labour disputes. After Gillespie was finished, Horwath tried to provide her perspective and was almost immediately interrupted by Sasha Austin, who spoke over the mayor consistently, pausing only to drink water. When Loomis tried to speak to the same question, Austin continued, speaking to everyone and no one in particular. After Mitchell and Walker provided their two-cents, a handful of the candidates began shouting through each other. Cooper added his voice to the fray, making up for his dry and uninspired opening statement. Horwath tried to take a dig at Loomis, but her lines were buried by Cooper, Austin, and Walker, each trying to yell their point louder than the other.

Only 1/5 of the way through the debate, the scene had devolved to such an extent that it was a miracle anyone remained tuned-in. Notably, a Spec letter to the editor from this week came from an exasperated viewer who “shut it off after 10 minutes as I learned nothing except that each candidate knew how to yell and interrupt others.”

The debate did not get any better.

At one point, the exasperated moderator tried to get Ejaz Butt to stop shouting about “the homeless people”. Janus attempted to speak to the need for a compassionate response for people experiencing homelessness as Austin and Butt and Walker yelled grievances into the ether. At every instance, questions between or directed at the main candidates on the stage were muffled by the other candidates yelling their platform points, chipping in with loud anecdotes, or bemoaning generalities without direction or focus.

Thoughtful answers to important questions were sandwiched between an indecipherable jumble of voices. The only good thing to come from that sad spectacle happened when Fromm attempted to discuss municipal spending while a chorus of other conversations happened around him, providing some cover from his rambling.

The event’s moderator did not help the situation, telling candidates to be brief without enforcing any meaningful time limit or restriction on their microphones. The more brazen of the figures around the table took advantage of that, using the stage to vent their grievances and issue unmoored calls to do better and spend better and be better to each other. Only when candidates like Janus began to eloquently address the actual questions on the table did the moderator step in and shut down the conversation. And, in far too many instances, the moderator provided cover for candidates who neglected to answer direct questions, either rushing the process along or loudly announcing that the questions had, in fact, been answered when they had not.

Beyond the dismal format, the inclusion of unedited viewer questions was a poor choice. It allowed viewers with distinct political agendas to provide leading questions to candidates that gave some a chance to rehash their platforms and backed others into uncomfortable corners.

There were anti-LRT questions, questions about how the mayor needs to “support the police and not take away any of their resources to help our city stay safe”, questions about how the mayor “hired a Chinese company to build tiny homes”. Rather than get to the root of anything specific, the questions came across as surface-level swipes at candidates based on what people have read on social media.

Cable 14 may as well have sourced all their questions from neighbourhood Facebook groups and everyone’s angriest uncle three beers deep during Thanksgiving dinner.

All-in-all, the debate’s format was beyond disappointing. It didn’t just make for bad TV. It was bad for the whole democratic process.

The mayor’s night

Horwath did not have a good night. She tried to take digs at Cooper and Loomis, lectured Gillespie and Janus, and failed to keep her cool. She could be heard muttering “oh my goodness” when other candidates tried to critique her record, grew visibly frustrated, and, at the end of the first section, was captured on a hot mic saying: “I’m outta here.”

Her response to a question from Cherkewski (“what do you have to say to people who voted for you last time but won’t vote for you this time?”) wasn’t great. “The reality is that not everybody’s ever going to be 100% satisfied all the time with every decision you make. But leadership is about making difficult decisions.”

Yes, it is true that leaders sometimes make their supporters unhappy with their decisions. But the issue isn’t that Horwath has made poor decisions; it’s that she took too long to make any decisions at all. And, when she did make decisions, they were rushed, poorly-executed, and ended up compounding problems rather than fixing the issues we face.

Mayors are limited in what they can do. While they have more power now than ever before, they don’t have the power to unilaterally fix all the problems in their jurisdiction. Instead, they need to tie together disparate strands of the community into one cohesive knot that can withstand the pressures placed on it. That means balancing strict financial limitations, provincial requirements (and impositions), the agendas of different councillors, the perspectives of staff and managers, and being decisive in their approach.

Horwath only began stepping up two years into her term, long after the city needed real leadership. Problems got worse, other members of council began to assert themselves as leaders, and people began to lose faith in the ability of their municipal government to do what they expect.

Not everyone will be 100% satisfied with the decisions a leader makes, but my sense is that Hamiltonians are more upset at the lack of decision-making from the mayor’s office than anything else.

Speaking down to the other women around the table did Horwath no favours.

When Janus attempted to discuss municipal spending, Horwath shot back with a snarky quip about how the municipality can’t carry debt. While Janus was trying to reference the city’s growing deficits, requiring the use of reserves, requests for provincial transfers, and the deferral of maintenance (which will only get worse under Horwath’s “tax increases capped at the rate of inflation” plan), the mayor tried to score a point off a passionate young candidate who, on paper, would be the exact kind of person to whom Horwath would try to appeal. Janus was quick to clap back, telling the mayor “I might not be using the exact terminology because I haven’t put together my presentation yet, Andrea,” the sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

She caught herself too late, so all Horwath could do was sit back and smile.

Horwath’s adversarial approach towards Janus and Gillespie demonstrated a distinct miscalculation about who her real opponents are in this race. Rather than try to build connections and support new players on the political scene, Horwath appeared to be bothered by both candidates. Both Gillespie and Janus can easily become recognizable and compelling leaders in Hamilton’s progressive movement, which any politician with a sense of succession planning should sense and foster. Horwath made it clear that such planning isn’t even remotely on her radar.

It was Horwath’s prepared statements that provided the best insight into the kind of campaign she’s running. During her closing statement, Horwath dug in on a few lines that sounded as though they were engineered in a downtown Toronto office park circa 2007 to really land at a provincial party leaders’ debate.

“We can’t afford to put our future in the hands of someone who would take us backwards,” she said, gesturing to Cooper, “or someone who wouldn’t take us anywhere,” she continued, motioning to Loomis. “The hatchet man is offering yesterday’s politics. The nowhere man offers no direction. Neither offers Hamilton a better tomorrow.”

The delivery was awkward. The lines weren’t as pointed as anticipated. The whole thing felt forced. Artificial. Plastic. After two and a half grueling hours of real, gritty, raw, unpolished, uncomfortable television, those lines went over like a lead balloon.

Sure, she got her quotes in the Spec as designed, but something just felt…off about her remarks. I had trouble figuring out why until a memory, buried deep in the recesses of my mind, resurfaced.

That particular leader showcase was a clunky event with no closing statements and awkward questions from a live studio audience. Not my favourite display, but certainly one of the most consequential for Ontario (given that we’re all still living with the outcome of that election to this day).

For her opening, then-NDP leader Horwath struck a refreshing tone. “There’s something special happening in Ontario,” she began, “and everywhere I go, I can feel it…People are saying that they don’t want to see the same old solutions from government. They know we can have change that makes people’s lives better. We don’t have to accept what’s been happening. We don’t have to go from bad to worse,” she said, gesturing first to Kathleen Wynne and then to Doug Ford.

That gesture again. The physical motioning toward “bad” and “worse”. But in 2018, there was a different vibe to her performance. It was hopeful and bright and optimistic. “We can do so much better and we can do that together,” she concluded. It felt new and exciting. It felt inspiring. It was a distinct contrast to the bombastic and aggressive Ford and the tired Wynne.

The Andrea Horwath at the Cable 14 mayoral debate wasn’t the same as the Andrea Horwath from the 2018 leaders’ debate.

In too many ways, she was more like Kathleen Wynne from the 2018 leaders’ debate: desperately trying to hold on despite clear warnings her ship is in trouble.

Rob Cooper (Republican)

One of the things that was lost in the fracas was a focus on Cooper.

The ephemeral Ward 8 councillor’s profile has skyrocketed. Two years ago, Cooper was an unknown backroom Conservative operative and occasional Mountain News interviewee. Now, he’s within striking distance of the mayor’s chair.

The debate offered a good glimpse into Cooper’s perspectives, his priorities, and what the city might look like under his leadership.

And it made one thing abundantly clear: if Cooper wins, he will be the most right-wing mayor this city has ever seen. Not even William Morrison, the chief of the powerful Hamilton East Conservative Machine during the Depression who railed against unions and communists holds a candle to Cooper.

Some of his answers had all the moisture of Melba toast. His response to Mac Christie’s question about service cuts to keep taxes low almost seemed designed to put people to sleep. The procurement process, annuity, percentages, the approvals process, blah blah blah.

But buried in there were hints of his underlying philosophy. He threw in a line about violent crime that had nothing to do with Christie’s question. And then, just before he’s cut off by the clock, he says “it’s time that we start running the city like you run your home.”

That’s always a fun comparison. Yes, let’s run a government with a budget of $2.9 billion the same way I run by household with a budget of redacted due to the embarrassingly small number . The government isn’t like a household; it’s a government. It has the responsibility to collect tax dollars and provide roads and sewers and transit and fire trucks and parks, not balance a cheque book based on a defined salary or wage.

It’s a classic conservative line. But it’s cover for the real goal, which is slashing and burning the ability of the state to provide basic services to people who need them the most.

But that’s not what’s concerning. We’ve had fiscally conservative mayors in the past and we’ll have fiscally conservative mayors in the future.

No, what’s concerning is that Cooper appears to have the social values of a MAGA Republican.

Cooper donated to the Christian Heritage Party (CHP) in 2016, a far-right, Christian nationalist organization that has been the face of anti-queer advertising in Hamilton. Cooper’s donation happened the same year the CHP ran anti-trans advertisements on HSR bus shelters on the mountain, with the Elections Canada record of donation showing it occurred just weeks after the ads were pulled by the city.2

Cooper has been listed as “supportable” for his “pro-life, pro-family” views by the parallel Christian nationalist group Campaign Life Coalition (CLC), an anti-choice organization that says a focus on mayoral elections is important because the “…mayors of today are tomorrow’s MP’s who will restore the true definition of marriage in Canadian law.” Just so we’re clear, they’re talking about reversing marriage equality and nullifying any same-sex marriages on the books here. Straight-up Gilead stuff.

Cooper answered the CLC’s survey perfectly, saying “sexual health agencies” should not receive taxpayer funds, that he does not believe in any censorship of anti-abortion messages, and that he calls himself “pro-life”.

Horwath called Cooper out on his donation and his CLC endorsement. He responded by reiterating his “Christian” values and focusing on “faith hate”, deflecting from his support for Christian nationalist groups. He, instead, accused Horwath of having “an underlying current of discrimination against certain faith groups,” which set off a firestorm in the room.

Gillespie called Cooper out, calling the CHP a “Christo-fascist nationalist organization”, starting off with passion but stumbling slightly when it came to really nailing Cooper’s deflection. Austin asked Cooper if he believes it’s a sin to be gay, which he again deflected by asking “why do you think I hate people?” Cooper never answered the question, despite the moderator’s insistence that it had been addressed.

When Janus again raised the issue, forcefully asking Cooper to clarify his support for anti-choice policies, including his support for removing a by-law that protects women who are accessing medical services from harassment by religious extremists, Cooper again pivoted back to “faith hate”, hiding behind the hate that people from marginalized communities face every day. Janus didn’t let that go, telling him “I appreciate you dodging the question again because that tells women everything they need to know in this city.” Gillespie also held Cooper accountable, saying “We should not be having people deflect questions [asked] in good faith by saying ‘I’m being discriminated against because of my faith. Why don’t we answer the question?”

Cooper ducked and dodged, avoiding direct engagement with the question. “I’m tryin’ to share my heart,” he said, to which Janus replied “Not your heart, your views on women’s rights.”

The discussion spiraled and, once again, the moderator stepped in to provide a shield for Cooper, saying “the question has been answered” when it had clearly not been.

He never answered if he would pursue a Christian nationalist agenda while in office, how he would interact with the queer community, or if he disavows the extremist messages promoted by the party to which he donated. He deflected with lightning speed and was never once pushed by the moderator or, subsequently, by members of the media about his stance on these issues.

Like Donald Trump, he was able to spin the conversation in the direction he wanted and get the media to follow him down the path he blazed; the Spec article on the debate focused on Cooper’s claims of “faith hate” and his throwaway line - “Everybody has the same opportunities in Canada” - rather than his repeated deflection of basic questions about his views on the fundamental human rights of marginalized people in Hamilton or his stance on municipal by-laws protecting women from harassment while seeking medical care.3

But Cooper’s copying of the MAGA style didn’t stop there. When it was his turn to ask a question of another candidate, he focused on Loomis, pulling numbers out of thin air and attacking the frontrunner for, by his calculation, already pushing a “50% tax increase” on homeowners.

Loomis was prepared, using the question as a chance to highlight Cooper’s extravagant council office budget spending, citing it as an example of how his “zero based budgeting” proposal would work. But Cooper was like a dog with a bone, asking Loomis to set the city’s tax rate for the next four years on the spot.

“Folks,” Cooper said, once again doing a middling Doug Ford impression, “if Keanin can’t give you a tax rate, that’s because you need to buckle your seatbelts, hang on for what you’re about to get. 25.5 is gonna be low based on what he’s doin’ and he won’t commit to the rate right now because he knows he’ll lose your vote.”

Loomis pointed out that the next mayor will “inherit the mess” of the only two people currently on council around the table, Horwath and Cooper.

“The reason you won’t give a tax rate is ‘cus you’ll be tax and spend,” Cooper breathlessly fired back.

Once other candidates were finished with a tangent about affordable housing, Cooper came back, again citing the made up “50% tax increase” that will happen under Mayor Loomis.

Like any MAGA-affiliated politician, Cooper is playing fast and loose with reality. He’s created a scenario, defined the parameters of that scenario, and is trying to campaign on what he’s made up in that scenario, rather than on the facts.

In a moment when politicians like Donald Trump and his MAGA acolytes are faltering because their false promises and campaigns of exclusion are butting up against the reality of affordability and basic human dignity, Cooper is offering us our own little homegrown version of the same. Extreme social conservatism and an odd relationship with reality should be enough to make every Hamiltonian sit up and take notice.

But with low voter turnout and even less voter awareness, he’s got a real shot at taking the mayor’s chair.

That was one of the only chances most Hamiltonians had to see the mayoral candidates in action together. Nearly every candidate (for better or for worse), organized by local media, answering questions and debating their visions for the city.

There haven’t been many other chances to see even the top candidates together.

After the Chamber of Commerce/local developer debate moderated by Steve Paikin on September 22 - which only featured Loomis, Cooper, and Horwath - debate attendance has been spotty at best.

Cooper has been dodging debates, skipping the debate focused on issues relating to the Black community on September 24 and the October 6 Hamilton is Home debate on housing issues. On the latter, Cooper claimed to have a “prior engagement” while, on the former, he declined to participate because “he had safety concerns related to another candidate’s presence.”4 Cooper has not answered questions explaining what he meant by that statement.

Most candidates managed to show up to a Seniors’ Forum held at Sackville Hill Rec Centre on September 24 (knowing full well who actually votes in this city), but it’s been hard to get even the main contenders on a stage together at one time since. All but Loomis bailed on the Ward 1 Neighbourhood Associations Debate. Same at the (by all accounts) disastrous Stoney Creek BIA Candidate Debate on October 14.

As we get closer and closer to the election, the remaining debates are transforming into “Fireside Chats with Keanin Loomis (occasionally featuring Scarlett Gillespie)”.

The Cable 14 Debate was the primary opportunity for voters to see their mayoral candidates in action. Instead, the unlucky few who tuned in were treated to a sloppy format, auditory chaos, and an appearance by an entirely uncharismatic white nationalist.

Lost in the haze of the not-so-great-debate was a substantive focus on policies, an analysis of the mayor’s tenure and re-election bid, and, importantly, much-needed scrutiny of Rob Cooper, a man with radically socially conservative values who may very well become the 59th Mayor of the City of Hamilton.

Hamiltonians deserved better than that debate. And, now, we might be living with the same chaos displayed on stage for the next four years.

Let’s just hope voters can see through the haze and make a clear-headed decision on October 26.

1  Susan Swan. “From opposition to campus leftists, a new right is spawned,” Toronto Telegram, October 14, 1967 - Spec archive link (Paywalled).

2  Teviah Moro. “City pulls Christian Heritage advertisement from bus shelters,” Hamilton Spectator, August 12, 2026 - Spec archive link (Paywalled).

3  Mac Christie. “Chaotic Hamilton mayoral debate features potshots over faith, citizenship and ”Trump-style” politics,” Hamilton Spectator, October 9, 2026 - Spec link (Paywalled).

4  "" “Hamilton mayoral hopefuls weigh in on housing, safety priorities raised by Black community” Hamilton Spectator, September 28, 2026 - Spec link (Paywalled).