Why I Still Believe in Canada

I’m exhausted by the narrative that Canada is broken—or worse, that it’s a "failed country." It’s not perfect. No country is. But perfection isn’t the measure of worth. What matters is whether a nation strives to improve, learns from its mistakes, and chooses progress over regression. And Canada, for all its flaws, continues to do just that.

I see a country that has taken meaningful steps in justice reform, including the nationwide legalization of recreational cannabis—something only nine countries in the world have done. I also see a growing commitment to addressing past injustices against Indigenous communities through investments in housing, early learning, healthcare, mental health, and infrastructure, as well as through initiatives like the Truth and Reconciliation Commission and the implementation of the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples Act.

A country that, despite mounting international pressure and influence campaigns from bad actors like Russia, or the ideological echoes of Trumpism, is trying to resist the full-scale demonization of queer and trans people. I see a country that, unlike others, has not abandoned universal healthcare, even in the face of relentless lobbying from Big Pharma and the private sector. A country that introduced the Canada Child Benefit, reducing child poverty by a third in a single year. A country moving toward national childcare, national pharmacare, and soon, dental care. A country that continues to stand shoulder to shoulder with democratic allies, defending freedom and the rule of law in an increasingly unstable world.

I also see the cracks—and I won’t pretend they don’t exist.

Our productivity has stalled. A lack of action on regulatory reform, particularly around capital investment and the permitting process for major infrastructure projects, has held us back. The government’s failure to fully heed expert advice from Finance Canada and seasoned economic advisors has cost us vital momentum. Pandemic relief spending though necessary, left ripple effects we’re only now beginning to manage. We’ve failed to adequately protect foreign workers from exploitation under the Temporary Foreign Worker Program. And we continue to struggle with coordination between federal, provincial, and municipal governments...especially when it comes to housing and healthcare, both of which are buckling under immense pressure.

But it’s important to acknowledge that many of these challenges aren’t solely the result of liberal or left-leaning policies. They are global problems, symptoms of a broader crisis: late-stage capitalism operating on a finite planet. From affordability and income inequality to climate stress and infrastructure decay, these are structural issues that no single party or ideology can solve overnight.

Now, we face a new existential threat: the destabilization of our sovereignty and democratic institutions, coming from both foreign and domestic forces, including the growing influence of an increasingly radicalized U.S. political sphere. Donald Trump’s return to power threatens not just global democracy, but the safety and independence of Canada itself.

We don’t need slogans or soundbites. We need experience, stability, and substance.

Mark Carney is uniquely positioned for this moment. His decades of high-level financial leadership, both in Canada and abroad, have earned him international respect—not because he tells people what they want to hear, but because he knows how to navigate complex crises. He’s been trusted by some of the world’s most competitive institutions, not for ideology, but for competence. Carney doesn’t rely on outrage or social media theatrics. He answers tough questions with calm, informed responses on everything from tariffs to global supply chains and economic development. That kind of steady leadership appeals to centrists and progressives—not because he’s perfect, but because he’s serious, and grounded in real-world experience.

To be honest, Carney isn’t even the candidate I want to vote for. I have strong concerns when it comes to the environment and wealth inequality. But the reality is, none of the other options come close to being prepared for the challenges we’re facing, especially when you factor in our country being threatened to be annexed and taken over on a daily basis. This isn’t about idealism; it’s about stability, and I’m not going to let perfection be the enemy of good. Pierre Poilievre continues to campaign on anger and fear. His message hasn’t evolved to meet the challenges of the moment. Instead of offering solutions, he shouts at the world for changing. But the world is changing. And the kind of populist denial he promotes won’t solve our problems, it will just amplify them.

We need to grow out of the team-sport mentality that’s infected our politics. The algorithm rewards outrage, not dialogue. Social media has tricked too many of us into thinking the goal is to “win” against our fellow citizens, rather than build something together.

Canada’s strength lies in its unity, not its uniformity. We are diverse in culture, language, geography, and opinion. That doesn’t make us weak—it makes us strong. But only if we choose to listen, collaborate, and act like adults at the table.

And maybe, just maybe, it’s time to log off for a while. Go outside. Touch some grass. If you truly care about politics, visit your local library and study political science, history, or economics from credible, objective sources. Doomscrolling on X and Facebook while convincing yourself you’re “informed” is a recipe for delusion, not insight. Real understanding takes effort, curiosity, and humility; not memes and echo chambers.

If you truly believe Canada has been “run into the ground,” or that becoming the 51st state is a good idea, then maybe you’ve already checked out. But for the rest of us, it’s time to fight for what’s ours. Not through slogans or finger-pointing...but through knowledge, diversification and good leadership. Fixing Canada starts with unity, not division. We are a complicated but great country. If you don't like it here, you're welcome to leave.