I was driving down the interstate, radio tuned to a Canadian Broadcasting Corp. program, when the talk turned to the air play – or lack thereof – that female recording artists in Canada allegedly get, compared to their male counterparts.

Under discussion was a budding campaign to get Canadian radio stations to devote at least 30 percent of their play lists to material performed, written or produced by female artists. This supposedly would eventually even the playing ground for female talent seeking to get ahead in the recording business.

As I understood it, the “Femcon” (feminine content) recommendation is based on the so-called “Cancon” (Canadian content) regulation which directs Canadian broadcasters to devote a certain percentage of their programming to things Canadian in the interest of promoting nationalistic pride.

One person interviewed said most radio people involved with following the Cancon guidelines probably identify as Canadian and therefore have an interest in raising the profile of Canadian talent, male or female. But because the feminine-content thing is fashioned along gender lines where interests and priorities are varied, it would not only stifle creativity in programming, the speaker said, but have about it an air of the government dictating to citizens what their musical tastes should be, as well.

As I attempted to dodge potholes and outflank frost heaves, I wondered how the deal might work for Canadian disc jockeys.

If the country music deejays gave air play to male artist George Jones singing a bunch of sad old beer-drinking songs with titles such as “My Wife Ran Off With My Best Friend And I Sure Do Miss Him,” for example, must they follow with Emmylou Harris warbling her rendition of “I’m So Miserable Without You, It’s Like You’re Still Here” or find themselves in a heap of trouble with the program-content police?

As a Highly Trained Observer In Good Standing, I have a hunch that most rational people who enjoy music don’t much care one way or the other what gender the performer is, as long as the tune is music to their ears.

For one thing, a listener assaulted by the caterwauling that passes for music on some radio stations these days will likely be hard-pressed to identify the gender of the offender, anyway. For another, when listeners reach for the radio kill button to ease the pain on such occasions, the gender of the talent-challenged performer is generally the least of their concern.

The late poet/philosopher Ralph Waldo Emerson allegedly said that if a man “can write a better book, preach a better sermon, or make a better mousetrap than his neighbor, though he builds his house in the woods, the world will make a beaten path to his door.”

The same holds true in music. Play a better tune, or sing a song better than your competitor, and smile all the way to the bank – whether you are male, female or some dubious combination thereof. Ella Fitzgerald trumps Hootie and the Blowfish, every time. One Frank Sinatra from beyond the grave is better than six Courtney Loves, live and on stage. And no one beats Elvis, regardless of gender.

The proposed 30 percent rule for female performers north of the border seems far from being the better mousetrap the world seeks just now. Should the movement catch on and go global on us, what might be next on the agenda of those who would deem us incapable of correctly choosing our own pleasures and poisons?

Reading habits, perhaps? For every three Len Deighton spy novels a guy reads, must he also read one of Al Gore’s weighty tomes on global warming? Or might that be considered a violation of the constitutional ban on cruel and unusual punishment?

Television viewing patterns? Catch several episodes of “The Sopranos” and then be forced to watch, at gunpoint if necessary, an interminable Public Broadcasting System fund-raising drive from start to finish? Talk about your punishment not fitting your crime.

And what of something so everyday mundane as a working stiff’s beer purchases? Buy a 30-pack of Brand X (“A Headache In Every Swallow”) and be compelled by law to also pick up a six-pack of Brand Y, best used to burp a baby or scare off slugs in the cucumber patch?

To be fair about it, the proposed feminine-content programming guidelines may well be an idea whose time has come, I suppose – at minimum, a spark to ignite discussion of a legitimate topic of concern to many. Being a goober in good standing, I simply may be missing the point (again). No great surprise there.

NEWS columnist Kent Ward’s e-mail address is olddawg@bangordailynews.net.