On the day the rest of the state found out exactly what an independent review panel thought of his job performance, Peter Bourque did the same thing he’s been doing for nearly 38 years … and the same thing neither your nor I would likely do in the same situation.

He got out of bed. He went to work for the people of Maine. And he began answering tough questions about criticism he thought was unwarranted.

Bourque works for the state’s Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife. He’s the director of DIF&W’s Fisheries and Hatcheries Division. In the future, that job won’t exist. Now he’s considering options that may or may not keep him in the department he loves. His job responsibilities will be split into two other jobs, and he has been offered one of those.

Over the next two weeks, he says he’ll decide if that’s the best thing for him to do.

“To a certain degree, I ended up the scapegoat for the department’s ills in certain areas,” Bourque said. “I thought it was unfair, and there was certainly no way to respond to those [concerns] in any way.”

If you read the report that was released Tuesday – the one compiled by the Management Assistance Team of the International Association of Fish and Wildlife Agencies – you never found Bourque’s name.

But if you read between the lines, or tried to figure out exactly who the unnamed “Division Director” was, it was pretty simple to figure out.

It was Peter Bourque. He was the guy whose reputation ended up taking the brunt of the punishment in a 74-page report that offered 36 recommendations.

Bourque read the report Friday, which, he says, pretty much “ruined my weekend.”

But on Wednesday, after the press accounts became widespread, and the report became available to the general public, Bourque didn’t duck. He didn’t hide. He sat at his desk, fielded calls from the media, and told his side of the story.

“Somebody said I ought to be out on sick leave,” Bourque said, still able to spare a wry chuckle at his own expense. “And I don’t feel good about it. But the way they’re lining up responsibilities for the department, I think the report made some good recommendations.”

Good recommendations? Is that what he said?

That’s typical Peter Bourque. If you don’t believe it, ask around.

Peter Bourque is one of those rare men you chance across every once in awhile … but not nearly often enough.

He’s a man in a public job, who has to make tough decisions. He’s a guy you can disagree with, vehemently if you want, and still end up liking. He’s Honest. Fair. Above-board. No-nonsense. Pick your term. It fits.

Some of the biologists who have worked beside Bourque for portions of his 37-year tenure are keeping quiet, publicly. But believe this: Many of them are angry about the treatment the man they call boss … and colleague … and friend … is receiving.

“I will bet you to the last person in the fishery division, we support him,” said Paul Johnson, the regional biologist in Greenville.

Johnson, who has been with the department since 1969, isn’t griping about the report as a whole. He says there is plenty of room for improvement, and the report illustrates that.

But he’s not pleased about how the report was written.

“I think [negatives] were pointed out in a very personal, very degrading nature,” he said. “Peter was the only one who was singled out like that, and we were deeply disappointed in that.”

Bourque, you can imagine, also noticed the tone. And he didn’t care for it, either.

“I don’t think you usually see that kind of pot shot in a [professional] report like that,” Bourque said.

So, what did the report say, exactly?

It blasted Bourque for his leadership style, and said that his centralized budgeting system resulted in his becoming “a benevolent dictator of sorts.”

Bourque’s approach, he says, allows biologists to do scientific work instead of busy work.

His communication skills were criticized, and the report said there was a perception his friendship with biologists keeps him from disciplining them when they aren’t productive.

He says he was tough when he needed to be, and didn’t ignore department shortcomings.

After reading the report, DIFW Commissioner Lee Perry’s immediate reaction was to split Bourque’s job in two, and offer him half of it.

And while that may seem like a bit of a demotion – if Bourque decides to accept, that is – there’s something else you ought to know.

That’s pretty much what Bourque’s been asking for for about 15 years.

Ever since he “inherited” the fisheries post, he’s been asking for an assistant director … just like he used to be before a mid-1980s slash-and-burn expedition that changed the department’s landscape.

When Bourque stepped up a notch, from assistant to director, the “assistant” job was eliminated. So was the director’s pay rate: Bourque kept the assistant pay, he says, and became the boss.

“Essentially, over a 20-year period we cut our administrative staff in half, and the job became much more complicated,” he said, not to explain any shortcomings, but to explain the irony involved in a new job being opened now … in the wake of a report that has savaged his reputation.

Another irony: The man who is being blasted for his management skills was named the state government’s best manager just four years ago. He’s got the plaque to prove it.

Bourque may stay on at the DIF&W, as the new director of fisheries program development. Another, equal, job will be responsible for fisheries operations.

Or he may not.

He admits the report made some good points. He admits he and Perry need to communicate better. But he’s not sure the new job will be exactly what he’s looking for until he sees its description in print.

If he leaves? The fish won’t notice. Fishermen may not notice. But the department and the state will lose a good, honest man in an unfortunate way.

“They told us in the beginning that this wasn’t a witch hunt,” Johnson said. “We wanted to believe that. But with the way Peter was treated, [we think] it was a witch hunt.”

John Holyoke can be reached at jholyoke@bangordailynews.net or by calling 990-8214 or 1-800-310-8600.