“Please inform your minister, my writers do not write political speeches,” I heard Jim McCarthy say into the phone as I walked past his office. “They work for the people of New Brunswick not the politicians of New Brunswick. CNB’s job is to provide non-partisan, accurate and clearly-written information for the people, not write speeches.”
Though it’s been more than a quarter of a century since I heard my friend and former boss explain to that rookie ministerial assistant the proper role of government communicators, I distinctly remember what he said. By reminding me of the power of words, and the effect they can have, Jim changed not only my approach to writing but also my approach to life. Words matter. So does clarity of thought. So does not taking yourself too seriously.
As editorial director for Communications New Brunswick — at the time the provincial government’s communications branch — Jim McCarthy believed that regardless of the kind of public-service work you do when you are paid by “the people” you have a responsibility to “the people.” He not only believed that principle to the core but also passed it on to the many government communicators he mentored during his long career.
The1990s were heady times in New Brunswick. Frank McKenna — Fast Frank as Macleans called him — was premier. It seemed we were first in everything — the first jurisdiction on earth with a completely digital telephone network, the first to have a government ministry dedicated exclusively to the Information Highway, and, if I recall correctly, the first province in Canada to have e-mail. Things were hoppin’. Everything was changing.
Leadership was the buzzword back then; lead, follow or get out of the way, the mantra. If you wanted to shake things up and move things forward, it was a good time to be working with government and an especially good time to be a writer at Communications New Brunswick.
With so much going on there was a lot to learn, and Jim encouraged his team of writers, editors, translators and administrative people to learn as much as they could. He wanted fresh thinking, and creative approaches in his shop and through his subtle, yet effective, approach to inspiring people, that’s what he achieved.
I recall once describing the experience of working in Jim’s shop this way: If the New Brunswick government was Microsoft, then Communications New Brunswick was Apple Computer. He made sure each member of his team was respected, encouraged and had creative freedom.
Kevin Lunn is one of the many who benefitted from Jim’s management style. Lunn, currently a respected communicator with Service New Brunswick, was just a kid when Jim took him under his wing in the early 90s. “He had a way of inspiring all of us to work together,” Lunn says. “There was nothing top down about the way he managed. We were like a big family. We still are family.”
Until her passing last summer, Bonnie Buckingham Landry was part of that family. A fine writer and editor, she, like all of us, owed much of her success to Jim’s kind and thoughtful approach.
Born in 1944, Jim McCarthy grew up in Ludlow on the banks of the Miramichi. As he grew, he carried with him not only the spirit of the great river but also the stories of his childhood, stories that would inform his imagination until his passing on January 18.
“When he was a boy,” his obituary reads, “he worked in the woods with his father. Wanting a different kind of life for himself and his fiancée, Nancy, he moved to Fredericton to work as a reporter, then photographer with the Daily Gleaner, covering local stories for many years until the entire newsroom staff was fired by its new owners.
“He began working as a communications officer at the New Brunswick Information Service in the 1980s, then became director and oversaw its eventual transition into Communications New Brunswick. As head of editorial and then web services at CNB, he led the move from a wire-based news service to the current web-based program, improving the delivery of communications to the public.
“In his work life, Jim was a gifted photographer, writer, editor, and communicator, leading by example with his quiet, constant support and good humour. He helped to mentor a new generation of communicators by creating an atmosphere that allowed them to be creative and professional, and to have fun. He encouraged hard work and learning, always reminding them of the importance of public service. Jim spoke fondly of many of his own mentors, especially lifelong friends Jackie Webster, Harry Mullin, and Harry Nason.
“Jim’s greatest legacy is his family, including his extended family of friends and neighbours. He shared his time and talents with many people, and they in turn are carrying forward Jim’s gifts in their own personal and professional lives. Jim lives on, in so many ways. The story continues.”
Yes, the Jim McCarthy story will continue I thought as I stood beside his bedside saying goodbye a few hours before he slipped away. Soon, I imagined, his spirit will be skimming the surface of the Miramichi on its journey home.
Thank you, Jim. From all of us, thank you.
Telegraph Journal Obituary for Jim McCarthy
Telegraph Journal Obituary for Bonnie Buckingham Landry
