In the Canadian Senate, a funny thing was done by someone who had no business doing it.

You may be aware of the story of Brigette DePape, a 21-year old University of Ottawa student and Senate page who hijacked headlines after standing in Canada’s chamber of sober second thought during the reading of the Speech from the Throne holding a homemade sign that read, “Stop Harper!” She released a statement calling for a Canadian version of the Arab Spring, claiming that stopping Harper’s agenda was impossible without creative disobedience.

The reaction was swift. It swept through TV, newspapers, and Facebook pages across the country–it sat comfortably below the fold on A1 of that weekend’sOkanagan Saturday–along the way insulting some and impressing others. Rather than split across purely partisan lines, it largely broke along the observer’s opinion of civil disobediance and protest as a political tool. I opined that it was a breach of trust regardless of whether or not you agreed with her.

AMS VP External Katherine Tyson didn’t like the protest, signaling disapproval via her personal Twitter on the basis of disrespect for democratic tradition. No Logo author Naomi Klein liked it, signalling gratitude to DePape for speaking for Canadians. (So did some American guy who makes films.) Manifesto-writing alt-rocker Matthew Good thought this is what democracy looks like. Union leader Morna Ballantyne offered her a job.

So let’s process this. DePape was clearly standing up for her beliefs, which is commendable–she was smart to have issued a press release outlining her manifesto almost immediately after being escorted out of the chamber by sergant-at-arms Kevin Vickers. (It’s notable that the Conservative Party of Canada (CPC) response also posted by the CBC describes her as a “professional protester”–wouldn’t that imply that she was paid? Does professional protester simply mean that she’s good at it?)

Standing up for what you believe in is commendable, and the fact that news on this is still coming out shows that she was doing a good job. “It’s not [just] rad because I agree with her”, said Twitter user @LexusMelanie in a reply to me, “It’s rad because she made a loud & clear statement for what she believes!” We malign the public servants in every department who kowtow to the CPC and Prime Ministers’ Office on details as minor as funding announcements, and we lionize former Statistics Canada head Munir Sheikh for refusing to defend what he saw as a bad decision in the axing of the long-form census. We want, in other words, people to stand against the pack and exercise their democratic voice.

But what about the respect for Parliament itself? This is not the first time such protest has taken place on the Hill, nor shall it be the last. A quick search turned up at least two cases in 2009 when protesters joined in on Question Period by chanting to raise awareness of the seal hunt and climate change, respectively. As one of the enduring symbols of Canadian culture, it’s an attractive place to try and get your message out. “For our country, it was one hell of a show. Somewhat iconic,” said a former Phoenix colleague of mine, Robyn Travis. “I may not agree with her politics (her interview was embarrassing), but I commend her bravery to make a bold statement and express her strong objection.”

I think, however, that DePape’s actions differ from that of the protesters. They were activists, which meant that their responsibility was chiefly to themselves and their beliefs–it can be literally your obligation to do stuff like this to further your cause. But she had other stuff on her table. No, this is more like that time in 2002 that Keith Martin grabbed the Mace. Martin, then an Alliance MP, was unhappy that his private member’s bill had been amended to committee hell. He responded by striding down to the table and seizing the ceremonial Mace, which signals the authority of Parliament, raising it over his head and claiming that democracy was dead in this country, according to an account in Hansard. It was ruled that Martin had committed a prima facie breach of privilege–that is, he had violated the specific powers extended to houses of Parliament and parliamentarians themselves.

This is the standard on which we should judge DePape. Was the message important? Maybe. Was the stunt worth it? To DePape, surely. But let’s talk about privilege for a moment. Let’s talk about trust.

We trust professionals, yes? I can’t bring friends into the kitchen where I work because that is a privilege extended to cooks and employees–we have that power because we are trusted to use it responsibly and safely. As an editor at the Phoenix and elsewhere, I have had the privilege of being the last line of defense on articles that are ran in the newspaper because I am trusted by my colleagues and the membership of those papers not to abuse the thoughts of writers or modify it based on my own beliefs or interests.

“There was something inside of me that said, ‘You have to do this'”, DePape told reporters. And I get that. I’ve felt that urge too. I tried to suppress it, and I wasn’t always successful. But having privileges mean that many people trust that you will not violate them. Senate pages, who are self-regulated, are depended upon by the senators, by Parliament security, and by their colleagues. They serve the people, who impart a manner of trust on the institution of Parliament. And she violated the trust of every single one by doing that. If that urge is important to you, there are many things you can do other than be a page.

But that violation is important to recognize. DePape’s press release did not carry her actual surname, identifying her as Brigette Marcelle, as though nobody would question it. In the release, she did not resign. She only had three months left on her contract. Even if her actions were justified, she needed to at least acknowledge that she’d failed to exercise her responsibilities–that even though it was the right thing for her to do, it was the wrong thing for a page to do. Having beliefs and having been an activist or a partisan does not make you one for the rest of her life, but DePape’s actions will make it harder for young people to be a page.

Will future screening panels turn away pages for things like DePape’s performance pieces for TEDx or her work for the Canadian Centre for Policy Alternatives, where she praised protesters at the G20? They should not. Having been politically active on either the left or right wing does not mean you are unable to seperate your beliefs from your responsibilities and does not mean that you will be unable to uphold the trust placed in you to operate at an impossibly high level.

But they have a hell of a reason to now, don’t they?