Remember when Bev Oda’s $16 orange juice at London’s Savoy Hotel became a national scandal? The federal minister was forced to resign in 2012 over what seemed like the epitome of political excess: upgrading her hotel from the conference venue to the swanky Savoy, ordering expensive juice on the taxpayer’s dime, and billing $1,000 per day for limousines. The media was relentless. The public was outraged. The Conservative minister was forced out over a few thousand dollars in questionable expenses.

Fast forward to 2025. Ontario Labour Minister David Piccini oversees what has been alleged to be a $2.5 billion political slush fund. Reports have emerged almost daily detailing how hundreds of millions have flowed to wealthy PC donors, political insiders, and companies closely linked to Premier Doug Ford’s inner circle. For now, despite increasing reports of misconduct, Piccini remains in his role, protected by an apparently Teflon-coated Premier – one whose lavish $75 million Reagan ad campaign, $60 billion tunnel fantasy, attacks on tenants’ rights, and crusade against speed cameras, works to distract the public, making the pay-to-play revelations slide right off him.

Perhaps more importantly, revelations about Piccini’s Skills Development Fund (SDF) show how political scandals have changed. What might have ended a political career a decade ago now seems less damaging: Piccini is still in his role, and Ford is still popular despite ongoing questions from the official opposition, significant media coverage, and a recent Abacus Data poll showing that 52 per cent of Ontarians believe Piccini should resign or be dismissed, including 43 per cent of former PC voters.

It’s worth listing some of the stories that have come to light. As reported by various outlets, $10 million was given to a known Ford associate and adult entertainment operator, Zlatko Starkovski, also known for supplying alcohol for the Ford family’s annual political barbecues a decade ago. Over $18 million went to Bayshore Home Care Solutions — a company involved in a palliative care supplies shortage that left dying patients without pain medication. $3.3 million was secured by a law firm run by Nick Simone, appointed by Ford to chair the Metrolinx board and nominated by Ford to receive the King Charles Coronation Medal. Scale Hospitality, a high-end restaurant chain, received at least $11 million despite scoring only 51 per cent and submitting its application late. More than $4 million went to a church with ties to Long-Term Care Minister Natalia Kusendova-Bashta. 

Then there’s the whiff of a personal touch. Minister Piccini’s wife lobbied for Career Colleges Ontario — headed by former Labour Minister Monte McNaughton’s wife, with two of its members receiving millions. Piccini travelled to Paris to attend the wedding of lobbyist Michael Rudderham, whose clients received millions in SDF funding after Piccini’s office intervened on lower-scoring applications. He attended a Toronto Maple Leafs game, where he was photographed in family rinkside seats reportedly belonging to Peter Zakarow, whose company, Keel Digital Solutions, later received $2.7 million from the fund, a case now considered for investigation by the OPP’s Anti-Rackets Branch. 

None of these actions are inherently incriminating on their own, but they certainly raise suspicion and erode public trust, especially now that the OPP is involved. At the very least, Ontarians deserve a full and transparent account of the $2.5 billion Skills Development Fund, including how funded projects were evaluated and, most importantly, proof that we’ve received a return on that investment in terms of public benefit. 

It doesn’t look good, however.   

Consider: Ontario’s Auditor General found that political staffers in Piccini’s office overrode non-partisan bureaucratic rankings to allocate approximately $750 million to applicants with low, medium, or poor scores from ministry officials, including for Keel Digital Solutions. Over 60 lower-scoring applicants were approved after hiring lobbyists—again, with many having ties to Ford’s inner circle. The Star reported that Rubicon Strategy, owned by Ford’s campaign manager Kory Teneycke, had clients who received more than $100 million, and companies whose directors donated heavily to the PC party achieved remarkable success in securing grants. FGF Brands, a Rubicon Strategy client, received $1 million, and then family members donated $32,000 to the PC party — $15,200 during the recent snap election campaign and $17,000 immediately after. John Maggirias, who runs Dentacloud, a brokerage specializing in buying and selling dental practices — and another of Ford’s King Charles Coronation Medal nominees — has donated $23,000 to the PCs since 2022, prior to his company receiving over $2 million in funding.

It’s worth asking: Why does Premier Ford protect Minister Piccini while Bev Oda was sacrificed over her drink? 

One key part of the answer lies in the current political climate.

The rise of right-wing populism, exemplified by figures like Donald Trump, has profoundly altered the political landscape. Trump campaigned on “draining the swamp,” yet his administration became associated with conflicts of interest and self-enrichment. The key insight: his supporters don’t care. In fact, some celebrate his blatant norm-breaking as proof that he is tough enough to fight a rigged system. 

Ford has adopted a similar playbook. He presents himself as an anti-establishment fighter who “stops the gravy train,” rails against Ottawa elites and defends the “little guy” — all while doing the opposite and running what opposition parties call a “circular economy” of donations flowing to the PC party and grants returning to wealthy donors. When challenged, he doubles down, hides behind legitimate SDF projects, and insists his government is supporting workers, all while distracting us with carefully planned announcements.

In 2025, Bev Oda’s $16 orange juice now seems quaint, a relic from an era when scandals still damaged governments, ministers resigned over misconduct, and using taxpayers’ money to benefit friends had consequences. Today, as hundreds of millions appear to flow to insiders and close associates through a fund that the Auditor General found is “neither fair, transparent, nor accountable,” Ontario’s Labour Minister attends Parisian weddings and hockey games with beneficiaries — yet faces no repercussions. 

The question isn’t whether the SDF scandal qualifies as corruption — given the scale, patterns, connections and the Auditor General’s findings, it’s a fair accusation that demands radical transparency as the only reasonable response. The real issue is whether we’ve entered a new era where the appearance of corruption no longer matters, and where populist leaders have convinced enough voters that the system is so broken that brazen self-dealing is just typical politics. 

If a $16 orange juice once toppled politicians, what does it say about us today when hundreds of millions in alleged slush fund spending reveal Ford’s corrupt political machine, but doesn’t harm his image?

Thorben Wieditz is an urban geographer who works at the intersection of labour, community and cities. He is the co-founder of MetStrat, a research and campaign firm that specializes in public interest campaigns.