I’ve enjoyed watching the federal election campaign, but that’s where it ends. It will have no impact on markets (for more than a day), and my interest in being a public official has never been lower (it’s a brutal job). The office I’m interested in running for, however, is czar of the investment industry, its unquestioned ruler. With that in mind, I recently sat down with my handlers to plot out a campaign to win over Canadian voters – er, investors.

Right off the top, I could tell the team was worried about my loose-cannon tendencies. They want me to stay away from town hall meetings and only answer questions in writing, with editors at hand. They want nothing to do with my agenda for lower fees, better transparency and more foreign exposure. Counter to my mavericky nature, they want me to run a conventional campaign. I’m not allowed to say what I’d really do.

Something for every man, woman and child

I’m told I have to offer something that everyone wants, so I must liberally use words like “yield” and “dividends.” Recommending Canadian investments in general is a safe way to get applause, but I’ve also been directed to link our resource sectors to the growth opportunity in China.

In my policy document, the Gold Book (what colour did you expect?), I’ll bash the U.S. every chance I get and recommend currency hedging on foreign holdings.

Exchange-traded funds have a halo over their heads. There’s a new one every week and the media love them unreservedly. So even though I’m an active manager, I’m told to sing their praises.

Obscure the truth

My people tell me that there are areas where it’s alright to play fast and loose with the facts. I think they’re referring to guaranteed products and Principal Protected Notes (PPNs), where investors rarely question, and the industry never says, how much they cost or what the unintended risks are. Hedge funds are also fertile ground. The regulators haven’t got there yet.

I’m advised to talk as much as I can about tax-efficient yield and return of capital. Again, it seems nobody has figured out that giving investors their own money back is not a particularly innovative tax strategy.

Don’t go there

When I bring up some of my pet topics, the strategists go ballistic. I am told they’re to be avoided at all costs. In that vein, all numbers have been removed from the Gold Book, as have my views on complexity risk, overdiversification and lack of co-investment.

I’m to avoid talking about future returns. Investors don’t want to be told they need to save more. Real estate is also a no-no. The impact of rising interest rates could be dramatic, but my handlers were quick to remind me that Jeff Rubin almost got lynched for predicting significant house price declines in the late ’80s.

The single regulator debate is also no-man’s land. It’s of no interest to voters, even though 13 regulators make no sense in this hyper-competitive world. And besides, even with czarist powers, my chances of overcoming the politics of the issue are virtually nil.

Ahead of the curve

There are changes coming to the industry that no leader will be able to affect, so I’ve been given the okay to endorse them and even take ownership. Australia and the U.K. are embracing transparency around adviser compensation, and the U.S. is moving that direction, so it’s only a matter of time before Canada falls in line. Therefore, I’m happy to state that I’m in favour of eliminating hidden fees – i.e. trailers and deferred sales commissions.

In general, the industry is abysmal at reporting investment returns and fees, but my contacts in the regulatory world tell me that’s also going to change. My people are hopeful that I can get Peter Mansbridge to point out that our client statement already meets the new standard.

After just a few sessions with my strategists, I realize just how tough politics can be. Dealing with the irrational Mr. Market on a day-to-day basis is starting to look pretty good. But oh, how I’d like just once to wield some power over the industry and see whether we could make it more investor-centric and less self-interested.