On Thursday, the front page of the Ottawa Citizen was given over almost entirely to Canada’s Prime Minister Jean Chretien. Down at the bottom were two small teasers leading to stories inside, one about pop singer Avril Lavigne and one about David Thomson paying $120 million-dollars for a Peter Paul Rubens painting called The Massacre of the Innocents, which had turned out to be fake.

But Chretien and his announcement that he would retire in 2004 was the big deal. The headline — “I Will Not Run Again” — in Man-On-Moon style, ran huge and across the entire page. The photo of Chretien was large enough to be suitable for framing; in it Chretien’s forehead was bulbous and he looked a little like the Pope, only more of an egghead.

Inside, it was as if Chretien had died: eight solid pages of coverage, with articles detailing his entire life and photographs of him as a child, as a bridegroom, playing trombone with Dan Aykroyd — nineteen in all.

In a speech to Liberal MPs and senators in Saguenay, Quebec, Chretien had signalled his intention to stay and fight. “It’s not about power,” he had insisted, “it’s about responsibility.” Bull.

It’s the nature of our species that those with power and its perks — prestige, control, money, decent tee-off times — will not want to share it and will hang on to it for as long as they can, long after they should have stepped aside to let the next carry things on, as if their entire beings were defined by their jobs. They weren’t born to it, like the Queen, or elected for life, like the Pope. They stay on forever and then die “tragically” five minutes before or after retirement and the smelling of the roses.

Politicians seem to be especially vulnerable. Instead of stopping a difficult, intense work that has the hours of a real-estate agent, constant criticism and turmoil, in order to get themselves into some spiritual or human order, they keep plodding on, aging alpha dogs in the pack dragging themselves around until the young whippersnappers grab them by the hind leg and take them down.

Politicians have the financial resources to retire, but they never can say goodbye. Instead, things get ugly. There’s a humiliating defeat at the polls. Or a revolt.

In any large work environment, the waters can close over anyone’s head. Even the seemingly most indispensable person can be replaced. The world will keep turning. There is not one of us absolutely necessary to anything, and the nation is not grateful that Chretien has chosen to turn seventy while in office.

On Friday, the Citizen’s front page reverted to its regular layout — the sky box of teasers was back just under the banner, and other stories made it above the fold. The story on Chretien had the back-to-business headline of PM: If You Start Early, You’re Fired. Chretien had said that anyone who wants to start running for the Liberal leadership now can do what Paul Martin did: resign. There was no picture of him on the front page.

The big sepia-tinted photo was of Louis Riel, with the headline — all in capital letters: Should He Hang Again? You Decide.