Tewin and the Shape of Ottawa’s Future

At the moment, I don’t feel I know enough about this developing issue to take a position, so I plan on monitoring the situation and perhaps look at the bigger picture.  

Four years ago, Ottawa city council voted to expand the urban boundary into lands southeast of the city to create a massive new suburban community called Tewin. The project, a partnership between the Algonquins of Ontario (AOO) and Taggart Group, envisions housing for up to 45,000 people on 445 hectares of land. This expansion was one of the most controversial planning decisions of the last decade, both for its symbolic weight and its long-term implications. Today, councillor Theresa Kavanagh has re-opened the debate, proposing that Tewin be stripped from Ottawa’s Official Plan. Her efforts highlight the difficult choices cities face between growth, climate goals, and Indigenous reconciliation.

The Promise of Tewin
Supporters of Tewin present it as a once-in-a-generation opportunity. For the Algonquins of Ontario, the project represents an unprecedented role in shaping Ottawa’s future. After centuries of dispossession, Tewin offers not only revenue streams and jobs but also visibility in the city’s urban fabric. This symbolic dimension, land not merely ceded or lost, but built upon in partnership, is difficult to dismiss.

Developers and some councillors also argue that Ottawa must accommodate population growth. With Canada’s immigration targets rising, pressure on housing supply is intense. Tewin promises tens of thousands of new homes, potentially designed with modern sustainability standards. Proponents emphasize that large master-planned communities can integrate parks, schools, and infrastructure in ways that piecemeal infill cannot. In this vision, Tewin is not sprawl, but a carefully designed city-within-a-city.

The Cost of Sprawl
Yet the critiques are no less powerful. City staff initially ranked the Tewin lands poorly during their 2020 evaluations, citing soil unsuitability, distance from infrastructure, and limited transit access. Servicing the site: extending water, sewers, and roads will cost nearly $600 million, much of it beyond the city’s 2046 planning horizon. These are funds that could otherwise reinforce existing communities, transit networks, and climate-resilient infrastructure.

Urban sprawl carries environmental and social costs. Tewin sits far from rail lines and job centres, ensuring that most residents will be dependent on cars. This contradicts Ottawa’s stated climate action commitments, which emphasize compact growth and reduced vehicle emissions. Critics also note that adding a massive suburb undermines efforts to intensify existing neighbourhoods, where transit and services are already in place.

Indigenous Voices, Indigenous Divisions
The Indigenous dimension of Tewin complicates the debate. On the one hand, the Algonquins of Ontario have secured a rare position as development partners, advancing reconciliation through economic participation. On the other hand, not all Algonquin communities recognize AOO’s legitimacy, and some argue that consultation has been narrow and exclusionary. The project thus embodies both progress and tension in the city’s relationship with Indigenous peoples. To reject Tewin outright risks appearing to dismiss Indigenous economic aspirations; to proceed with it risks deepening divisions and ignoring long-standing calls for more inclusive engagement.

A City at the Crossroads
Councillor Kavanagh’s push to remove Tewin from the Official Plan is more than a single motion. It reopens a philosophical question: what kind of city does Ottawa wish to become? If it seeks to embody climate leadership, resilient infrastructure, and walkable communities, Tewin appears to be a step backward. If it seeks to honour Indigenous partnership and ensure abundant housing supply, the project has undeniable appeal.

Ultimately, Tewin forces Ottawa to confront a contradiction at the heart of Canadian urbanism. We are a country that has promised climate action, but remains tethered to car-dependent suburbs. We are a nation that aspires to reconciliation, but often struggles to reconcile competing Indigenous voices. To move forward, Ottawa must do more than weigh costs and benefits; it must articulate a vision of growth that is both just and sustainable.

In this sense, Tewin is not merely a development proposal. It is a mirror held up to the city itself, reflecting both its aspirations and its unfinished work.

Sources:
• CTV News Ottawa. “Tewin development project passes latest hurdle but some say it still doesn’t belong.” August 2024. Link
• Ontario Construction News. “Ottawa councillor sparks renewed debate over controversial Tewin development.” April 2025. Link
• CTV News Ottawa. “Councillor withdraws motion to remove 15,000-home development from Ottawa’s Official Plan until after byelection.” April 2025. Link
• Horizon Ottawa. “Stop the Tewin Development.” Accessed October 2025. Link

Lansdowne 2.0: The half-billion-dollar deal that asks Ottawa to trust again

There are moments in a city’s life when the decisions made at council chambers shape not just its skyline, but its soul. The redevelopment of Lansdowne Park has entered such a moment. The City calls it Lansdowne 2.0. Once again we are asked to believe that this time things will finally work out. I am respectfully saying: no thank you.

I support investing in our city’s infrastructure, in affordable housing, and in vibrant community spaces, but I am deeply opposed to the kind of public-private partnership (PPP) model that Ottawa keeps repeating – especially when the affordable housing promise is quietly reduced, when the public carries the risk, and the private partner walks away with much of the upside.

In the case of Lansdowne 2.0, the City and its private partner, Ottawa Sports and Entertainment Group (OSEG), propose to rebuild the north-side stands and arena, build new housing towers, bring retail/condo podiums, and “revitalize” the site. The projected cost is now $419 million, according to City documents. The City’s Auditor General warns the cost could be as much as $74-75 million more and that revenues may fall short by $10-30 million or more. That alone should give us pause, but the real problem goes beyond the balance sheet.

The public-private problem
The idea of PPPs sounds appealing: share risk, leverage private capital, deliver publicly beneficial projects faster. But the repeated pattern in Ottawa is that the public land, public debt and public oversight become the junior partner in the deal. When good times happen, the private side takes the returns; when costs rise or revenues shrink, the City and the taxpayer carry the burden. We know this from Lansdowne 1.0 and from other large projects in the city. The question is not simply “Is this a partnership?” but “Who bears the downside when things go off plan?”

The Auditor General’s review of Lansdowne 2.0 flagged that the City is “responsible for the cost of construction…..and any cost overruns” even though much of the revenue upside depends on later ‘waterfall’ arrivals. If we’re asked to commit hundreds of millions now in the hope of returns later, we must demand transparency, risk caps, guaranteed affordable housing and binding public-benefit commitments. Anything less is not renewal, it’s risk-shifting.

Affordable housing is not optional
At a time when Ottawa faces an acute housing affordability crisis, we are told that “housing towers” are part of the funding model for Lansdowne. But the developer’s track-record of promising affordable units, and then claiming they can’t deliver is worn and familiar. In the updated Lansdowne plan the number of guaranteed affordable units was cut or deferred and shifted toward “air-rights” revenues and condo sales, effectively betting public good on speculative real estate. Affordable housing should not be a line-item to trim when the spreadsheets wobble. It is the social licence that allows private profit on public land. Approving a plan that pares back affordable units yet asks for public exposure is indefensible.

Traffic, transit and neighbourhood liveability
The Lansdowne site sits beside the Rideau Canal, the Glebe and the Bank Street corridor – one of the most traffic-choked corridors in the city. Yet the plan envisions adding 770 new residential units (down from an original 1,200) on top of retail podiums. Meanwhile, the city’s own “Bank Street Active Transportation and Transit Priority Feasibility Study” (June 2024) underlines that Bank Street is already at capacity for cars and buses, that pedestrian and cycling infrastructure is insufficient and that any added vehicle traffic will further degrade mobility.

Without a clear strategy to manage car access, parking, transit loads, cycling/pedestrian safety and construction impacts, this redevelopment risks worsening gridlock and degrading the very neighbourhood livability the project claims to enhance.

Sports tenants and viability
One of the central rationales for Lansdowne 2.0 is that the existing arena and stands are aging and that new facilities will retain sports franchises and major events. Yet the plan, as approved, reduces capacity for hockey to 5,500 seats and concerts to around 6,500 – considerably smaller than many mid-sized arenas. Meanwhile, neighbouring downtown developments such as the proposed new arena for the Ottawa Senators raise questions: what is Lansdowne’s tenant strategy once the major franchise relocates? If the largest anchor tenant leaves, the revenue model collapses. The City is committing hundreds of millions without a transparent long-term sports strategy. Sports teams argue they cannot stay if capacity or amenities shrink. If they depart, the burden falls back on taxpayers.

Commercial podiums and vacant retail
The redevelopment includes a shift from 108,000 square feet of retail to 49,000 square feet; a cut because local business viability was weak in the first phase. Even today many of the commercial units around Lansdowne 1.0 remain vacant because rents are too high for independent businesses and the location’s infrastructure doesn’t support consistent foot traffic outside game days. The plan’s assumption that retail will compensate for public investment is shaky at best. Until we see real evidence of market demand and rental levels that support small business and serve neighbourhoods, not just downtown condo-dwellers, we are betting public money on commercial models that already failed once.

The opportunity cost
Let’s not forget what’s at stake. Nearly half a billion dollars in public exposure. Imagine what that money could do across the city: hundreds of affordable housing units in multiple wards, refurbished community centres, libraries, rinks, park renewal, neighbourhood transit links. Instead, we’re being asked to invest that money in one downtown site, tied to a private partner’s spreadsheet and future real-estate and event-market assumptions. This is a question of equity: do we serve one marquee site or many? Do we favour single big deals or dozens of small, proven community-led investments?

A better path forward
I believe in renewal. I believe Lansdowne and its broader site matter. But I cannot support the current model unless three things change:
1. Full transparency: release the full pro-forma, risk tables, debt-servicing schedules, and waterfall projections.
2. Binding affordable-housing guarantees: not aspirational “10 per cent of air-rights revenue,” but concrete units or legally-binding contributions to affordable-housing stock.
3. An urban-livability strategy: traffic and transit modelling for Bank Street and the Glebe; tenant guarantees for sports franchises; a retail strategy that supports small local business; and a cap on public exposure in cost overruns.

If a deal only works when the public is last in line for returns, when affordable housing is trimmed, when traffic worsens and local business fails, then we shouldn’t do it. That is not civic renewal. It is a subsidy for speculative dysfunction.

Public land, public money, public trust. If those three are not aligned, the right move is not to sign another 40-year partnership and hope for the best. It is to pause, open the books, redesign the deal and ensure the structure serves the city first, not the private partner. Ottawa can build better than this. It just needs to decide whose interests it wants to serve.

Sources:
• CityNews Ottawa: OSEG revamp cost jumps to $419 M.
• City of Ottawa / Engage Ottawa: Lansdowne 2.0 project/funding details.
• Auditor General of Ottawa: cost under-estimation, financial risk.
• Glebe Report: traffic/transportation study on Bank Street.

The Last Whales of Marineland: Law, Ethics, and the Only Path Forward

Marineland sits on the edge of Niagara Falls, a relic of a different era when families came to gape at orcas and belugas performing tricks. Today, the park is closed to the public, its lights dimmed, its tanks mostly empty. Yet the whales remain, silent witnesses to decades of human fascination and exploitation. Among them, the belugas are the last of a long line of captive cetaceans in Canada, and their plight is both a moral and legal reckoning.

For decades, Marineland claimed it brought education and awareness of marine life to Canadians and tourists alike. The reality, as revealed over the last ten years, is more troubling. Since 2019, more than a dozen beluga whales have died at the facility under circumstances that have raised concern among veterinarians, animal welfare groups, and the public. Many were young, far from what should have been a full lifespan, and the explanations provided, while sometimes citing medical causes, fail to address the broader pattern. Photographs and drone footage of barren tanks, water quality issues, and the whales’ unusual behaviors suggest chronic stress and confinement that no educational benefit can justify. The deaths, taken in context, reveal not isolated accidents but the systemic consequences of keeping large, intelligent marine mammals in tanks.

Canada responded to such practices in 2019 by passing the Ending the Captivity of Whales and Dolphins Act. The law bans the breeding, acquisition, import, and export of cetaceans for entertainment. Existing captive animals were “grandfathered” under certain conditions, but new acquisitions or transfers for display are prohibited. In short, sale or export of the remaining belugas from Marineland is illegal. When Marineland recently applied to send its whales to an aquarium in China, the federal government denied the request. The law is unambiguous: the only permissible outcome is relocation to a sanctuary, not further captivity for human amusement.

Legal clarity, however, does not erase the ethical responsibility. These belugas were born or captured for human entertainment. They did not choose this life, and society now bears responsibility for their welfare. Ethics demand that we consider not only physical health but also psychological well-being. Belugas are social, intelligent, and sentient. Repeated confinement, environmental monotony, and loss of companions cause suffering that is both preventable and morally unacceptable. Our laws protect them from further exploitation, but ethical obligation compels us to act now to repair the harm already done.

The only credible path forward lies in the Nova Scotia Whale Sanctuary, being developed by the Whale Sanctuary Project in Port Hilford. This facility is designed as a coastal enclosure, allowing belugas and orcas to live in natural water while receiving veterinary care and human supervision. The sanctuary is not fully operational yet, and relocating large marine mammals is a complex, expensive, and logistically challenging process. Still, this project represents the only legal, ethical, and practical solution for Marineland’s remaining whales. No other facility in Canada can legally or humanely accommodate them, and any alternative that returns them to captivity or commercial display is prohibited under law and would violate ethical principles.

The urgency of the situation cannot be overstated. Marineland is closed to the public and financially strained. Without immediate support, the welfare of these whales is at risk. Government funding and oversight are essential to ensure the whales remain healthy during the transition period. Independent veterinarians and cetacean welfare experts must assess each animal, monitor conditions, and guide care until sanctuary relocation is possible. These steps are not optional; they are necessary to prevent further suffering and to ensure that the legal and ethical framework guiding this process is actually implemented.

Longer-term, the whales’ relocation to Nova Scotia should be accompanied by permanent decommissioning of Marineland’s marine mammal facilities. This is not merely about ending an era; it is about acknowledging responsibility. Marineland profited for decades from holding these whales in suboptimal conditions. It should bear the costs of relocation, long-term care, and veterinary support. Society, in turn, must recognize that the attraction of seeing whales perform tricks is no longer a justification for their suffering.

For the public, the story of Marineland is instructive. It is a reminder that what we once accepted as entertainment can be morally indefensible in retrospect. The law now codifies that view, but ethics demand we go further. The whales’ continued captivity is a human failure, and the only way to right it is through care, sanctuary, and accountability. The Nova Scotia project is more than a refuge; it is a statement that humans are capable of taking responsibility for the consequences of their curiosity, their amusement, and their commerce.

In the end, the last whales of Marineland are a test of our society’s commitment to justice for nonhuman animals. There is no alternative that is lawful, humane, and morally defensible. Relocation to the sanctuary, guided by expert care and public accountability, is the only path that respects both the law and the ethical duty we owe to these sentient creatures. In that effort, we find not only a solution but a measure of ourselves: the ability to act responsibly for those who cannot choose their own fate. For the belugas, the sanctuary is not a luxury – it is justice.

Rethinking Public Safety: Core Changes Needed in Western Policing

Western policing institutions, from the United Kingdom to the United States, are facing mounting scrutiny for systemic failures that undermine public trust and fail to meet the safety needs of communities. Incidents of racial and gendered violence, misuse of force, and institutional culture problems reveal the limitations of the traditional model in which a single, uniformed police force handles the full spectrum of societal harms. This essay argues that public safety requires a reimagined, plural, and layered system. It presents six core principles for reform, grounded in evidence from pilot programs and case studies on both sides of the Atlantic, and discusses the implications for sustainable, accountable, and equitable policing.

Introduction
The model of policing inherited from 19th-century Western institutions, exemplified by Sir Robert Peel’s Metropolitan Police in London and early municipal police forces in the United States, was designed to maintain order and protect property. While law enforcement has evolved considerably, the persistence of systemic failures: including excessive use of force, discrimination, and insufficient accountability, reveals that the traditional, centralized policing model is increasingly misaligned with the safety needs of diverse urban and rural populations. Recent investigations, such as the BBC Panorama exposure of the Metropolitan Police and multiple high-profile police misconduct cases in the United States, underscore the urgency of systemic reform.

Reimagining public safety involves shifting from a monolithic force model to a plural, layered system in which enforcement is distinct from care, accountability is democratized, coercive intervention is minimized, social determinants are prioritized, non-police responders are professionalized, and transparent data guide decision-making.

Principle 1: Separate Enforcement from Care
Crisis responses for homelessness, mental health emergencies, substance use, and domestic conflict are often inappropriate for traditional police intervention. Uniformed officers, trained primarily for law enforcement rather than care, may escalate tensions, criminalize vulnerability, or fail to provide adequate support.

Alternative models, such as CAHOOTS (Crisis Assistance Helping Out On The Streets) in Eugene, Oregon, and similar community response teams in Toronto, Canada, deploy trained clinicians, social workers, and mediators to handle nonviolent crises. Evidence suggests these programs reduce unnecessary arrests, minimize injuries, and improve trust between communities and public safety agencies. In both UK and US contexts, embedding healthcare professionals alongside response teams reduces escalation and prevents downstream criminalization.

Principle 2: Localize and Democratize Accountability
Public trust is strengthened when local communities have oversight and voice in shaping public safety priorities. Establishing community boards with authority over local response teams, transparent complaint resolution processes, and independent civilian audits creates structural incentives for cultural change.

Both London’s Metropolitan Police governance reforms and civilian oversight structures in cities such as New York and Chicago highlight the importance of independent, empowered bodies capable of enforcing accountability. External oversight must have investigatory authority and sufficient resources to ensure timely and effective review of misconduct or systemic failures.

Principle 3: Reduce the Role of Armed, Coercive Interventions
The routine deployment of armed officers contributes to the normalization of coercion and increases the risk of harm, particularly for marginalized communities. In Western contexts, both the UK and US demonstrate the need to reserve armed intervention for narrowly defined, high-risk tasks.

For routine public safety, prioritizing de-escalation, nonviolent conflict resolution, and restorative justice practices promotes harm reduction and community reintegration. Programs such as restorative justice circles in US municipalities and diversionary policing initiatives in the UK demonstrate measurable reductions in recidivism and enhanced community cohesion.

Principle 4: Reinvest in Social Determinants of Safety
Long-term safety cannot be achieved solely through law enforcement. Investments in housing, mental health services, youth programs, education, and employment opportunities address root causes of harm and reduce the likelihood of criminalized behaviors.

Budget reallocations toward prevention and community infrastructure yield higher returns in public safety than expansion of enforcement. Examples include community-led housing initiatives in Scandinavian cities and youth engagement programs in US urban centers, which correlate with reduced crime rates and increased community resilience.

Principle 5: Professionalize Non-Police Crisis Responders
Alternative responders require clear professional frameworks to ensure effectiveness and sustainability. Developing recognized career paths, standardized training, legal authority, and integration with public safety systems is essential. Professionalization enables accountability, credibility, and continuity, ensuring that non-police interventions are treated as legitimate and reliable components of public safety.

Principle 6: Transparent Data and Outcomes
Transparency is foundational for accountability and evidence-based reform. Public dashboards reporting complaints, use of force, referral outcomes, and demographic impacts allow communities to scrutinize performance and guide policy decisions. Both UK and US jurisdictions increasingly deploy open data initiatives to monitor law enforcement and response teams, enhancing trust and supporting adaptive reforms.

Case Studies and Evidence

  • CAHOOTS (Crisis Assistance Helping Out On The Streets), Eugene, Oregon: Mental health crises handled by clinicians rather than police resulted in fewer arrests and reduced hospitalizations.
  • London’s community policing pilots: Embedding officers with community liaison roles increased reporting of minor crimes and improved citizen satisfaction.
  • Toronto’s mobile crisis teams: Mental health and addiction response teams reduced unnecessary emergency department admissions and arrests.

Recent BBC Panorama revelations in London illustrate the stakes of failing to implement such principles: custody suites became environments of normalized bigotry and violence, reflecting an institutional mismatch between coercive tools and public needs. Similar patterns in US police departments, documented through DOJ investigations and local reporting, demonstrate that this is a transatlantic problem.

Western policing institutions are at a critical juncture. The evidence indicates that centralized, uniformed police forces, designed historically to maintain order and protect property, are insufficient to meet contemporary public safety needs. A plural, layered system guided by the six principles; separating enforcement from care, democratizing accountability, reducing coercive interventions, reinvesting in social determinants, professionalizing non-police responders, and ensuring transparency, offers a path toward equitable, effective, and sustainable public safety across Western societies.

Reforms must be systemic, not incremental, and must embrace experimentation and evaluation. The lessons from pilot programs and investigative revelations alike underscore a simple truth: public safety is not merely the absence of crime, it is the presence of care, trust, and community resilience.

Sources:

  1. BBC Panorama. (2023). Undercover: Inside the Met.
  2. Casey, L. (2023). Baroness Casey Review: Independent Review into the Standards of Behaviour and Internal Culture of the Metropolitan Police Service.
  3. CAHOOTS Program (Crisis Assistance Helping Out On The Streets), Eugene, Oregon. White Bird Clinic.
  4. Toronto Mobile Crisis Services. City of Toronto.
  5. New York City Civilian Complaint Review Board.
  6. DOJ Investigations into US Police Misconduct, 2010–2023. U.S. Department of Justice.

A Transatlantic Lens: Exploring the Biggest Differences Between Europe and North America

The feedback I have been getting is that readers have been enjoying my serialised essays exploring subject matter to greater depth. This series of posts is for my friends on both sides of the Atlantic who love to debate this topic, often over European old growth wine and Alberta beef steaks.

Living in North America since the early 1990s as a European, I’m constantly struck by the quirks, surprises, and sometimes baffling differences between the continents. Over the next few weeks, I’ll explore ten key contrasts: spanning work, cities, food, and politics, and share what these differences mean in everyday life.

The Ten Differences

1. Social Safety Nets

In Europe, healthcare, pensions, and social support are expected parts of life. In North America, it’s more “your responsibility,” with benefits often tied to your job. It’s a mindset shift—comfort versus risk, security versus self-reliance, and it shapes so much of daily life.

2. Urban Planning and Transport

European cities invite walking, biking, and public transit. North American life often demands a car for everything. That difference affects how people socialize, shop, and spend their days. Suddenly, running errands isn’t quick, it’s a logistical decision.

3. Work-Life Balance

Europeans enjoy generous vacations and shorter workweeks. North Americans often work longer hours with less guaranteed downtime. Life here can feel like a constant race, while in Europe, there’s a stronger sense of living, not just working.

4. Cultural Formality and Etiquette

Europeans prize subtlety, traditions, and social cues. North Americans are casual, direct, and friendly—but sometimes painfully blunt. Adjusting between the two takes awareness: what feels warm here might feel sloppy there, and what feels polite there can seem distant here.

5. Business Practices

European companies lean toward consensus, careful planning, and stability. North American firms move fast, take risks, and chase growth. The difference shows up in meetings, negotiations, and career paths; you quickly learn when to push and when to wait.

6. Education Systems

Europe often offers low-cost or free higher education and emphasizes broad learning. North America favors expensive, specialized programs. The gap affects opportunities, student debt, and the way people approach learning for life versus learning for a career.

7. Food Culture

In Europe, meals are rituals – slow, social, and seasonal. Here, convenience and speed often rule, and portions are huge. That doesn’t just shape diets; it changes how people connect over meals and how they experience daily life.

8. Political Culture

European politics embrace multiple parties, coalitions, and compromise. North America leans on two parties and polarized debates. This difference affects trust, civic engagement, and how people view the government’s role in society.

9. History and Architecture

Europeans live among centuries of history in their streets, buildings, and laws. North America feels newer, faster, and more forward-looking. The environment subtly teaches what matters: continuity versus reinvention, roots versus growth.

10. Attitudes Toward Environment

Europe integrates sustainability into daily life: cycling, recycling, and urban planning. North American approaches vary, often prioritizing convenience or growth over ecology. Cultural attitudes toward responsibility shape everything from transportation to policy priorities.

These ten contrasts are just a glimpse of life across the Atlantic. In the weeks ahead, I’ll dive deeper into each, sharing stories, observations, and reflections. The goal isn’t just comparison, it’s understanding how culture shapes choices, habits, and even identity. Stay tuned for the journey.

The Comforting Cage: How Aldous Huxley Predicted Our Age of Distracted Control

In 1958, Aldous Huxley wrote a slender, but haunting volume titled Brave New World Revisited. It was his attempt to warn a generation already entranced by television, advertising, and early consumer culture that his 1932 dystopia was no longer fiction, it was unfolding in real time. Huxley believed that the most stable form of tyranny was not one enforced by fear, as in Orwell’s 1984, but one maintained through comfort, pleasure, and distraction. “A really efficient totalitarian state,” he wrote, “would be one in which the all-powerful executive…..control a population of slaves who do not have to be coerced, because they love their servitude.”

Huxley’s argument was not about overt repression, but about the subtle engineering of consent. He foresaw a world where governments and corporations would learn to shape desire, manage attention, and condition emotion. The key insight was that control could come wrapped in entertainment, convenience, and abundance. Power would no longer need to break the will, it could simply dissolve it in pleasure.

The Psychology of Voluntary Servitude
In Brave New World, the population is pacified by a combination of chemical pleasure, social conditioning, and endless amusement. Citizens are encouraged to consume, to stay busy, and to avoid reflection. The drug soma provides instant calm without consequence, while a system of engineered leisure: sport, sex, and spectacle keeps everyone compliant. Critical thought, solitude, and emotion are pathologized as “unnatural.”

In Revisited, Huxley warned that real-world versions of this society were forming through media and marketing. He recognized that advertising, propaganda, and consumer psychology had evolved into powerful instruments of social control. “The dictators of the future,” he wrote, “will find that education can be made to serve their purposes as efficiently as the rack or the stake.” What mattered was not to crush rebellion, but to prevent it from occurring by saturating people with triviality and comfort.

The result is a society of voluntary servitude, one in which citizens do not rebel because they do not wish to. They are too busy, too entertained, and too distracted to notice the shrinking space for independent thought.

From Propaganda to Persuasion
Huxley’s vision differed sharply from George Orwell’s. In 1984, the state controls through surveillance, fear, and censorship. In Huxley’s future, control is exercised through persuasion, pleasure, and distraction. Orwell feared that truth would be suppressed; Huxley feared it would be drowned in a sea of irrelevance. As Neil Postman put it in Amusing Ourselves to Death (1985), “Orwell feared those who would ban books. Huxley feared there would be no reason to ban a book, for there would be no one who wanted to read one.”

Modern societies have largely taken the Huxleyan path. The average person today is targeted by thousands of marketing messages per day, each designed to exploit cognitive bias and emotional need. Social media platforms fine-tune content to maximize engagement, rewarding outrage and impulse while eroding patience and depth. What Huxley described as a “soma” of distraction now takes the form of algorithmic pleasure loops and infinite scrolls.

This system is not maintained by coercion, but by the careful management of dopamine. We become self-regulating consumers in a vast behavioral economy, our desires shaped and sold back to us in a continuous cycle.

The Pharmacological and the Psychological
Huxley was also among the first to link chemical and psychological control. He predicted a “pharmacological revolution” that would make it possible to manage populations by adjusting mood and consciousness. He imagined a world where people might voluntarily medicate themselves into compliance, not because they were forced to, but because unhappiness or agitation had become socially unacceptable.

That world, too, has arrived. The global market for antidepressants, stimulants, and mood stabilizers exceeds $20 billion annually. These drugs do genuine good for many, but Huxley’s insight lies in the broader social psychology: a culture that prizes smooth functioning over introspection and equates emotional equilibrium with virtue. The line between healing and conditioning becomes blurred when the goal is to produce efficient, compliant, and content individuals.

Meanwhile, the tools of mass persuasion have become vastly more sophisticated than even Huxley imagined. Neuromarketing, data mining, and psychographic profiling allow advertisers and political campaigns to target individuals with surgical precision. The 2016 Cambridge Analytica scandal revealed just how easily personal data could be weaponized to shape belief and behavior while preserving the illusion of free choice.

The Politics of Distraction
What results is not classic authoritarianism but something more insidious: a managed democracy in which citizens remain formally free but existentially disengaged. Political discourse becomes entertainment, outrage becomes currency, and serious issues are reframed as spectacles. The goal is not to convince the public of a falsehood but to overwhelm them with contradictions until truth itself seems unknowable.

The philosopher Byung-Chul Han calls this the “achievement society,” where individuals exploit themselves under the illusion of freedom. Huxley anticipated this, writing that “liberty can be lost not only through active suppression but through passive conditioning.” The citizen who is perpetually entertained, stimulated, and comforted is not likely to notice that his choices have narrowed.

Resisting the Comforting Cage
Huxley’s warning was not anti-technology but anti-passivity. He believed that freedom could survive only if individuals cultivated awareness, attention, and critical thought. In Revisited, he proposed that education must teach the art of thinking clearly and resisting manipulation: “Freedom is not something that can be imposed; it is a state of consciousness.”

In an age where every click and scroll is monetized, the act of paying sustained attention may be the most radical form of resistance. To read deeply, to reflect, to seek solitude, these are not mere habits but acts of self-preservation in a culture that thrives on distraction.

Huxley’s world was one where people loved their servitude because it was pleasurable. Ours is one where servitude feels like connection: constant, frictionless, and comforting. Yet the essence of his message remains the same: the most effective form of control is the one we mistake for freedom.

Sources:
• Aldous Huxley, Brave New World (1932)
• Aldous Huxley, Brave New World Revisited (1958)
• Neil Postman, Amusing Ourselves to Death (1985)
• Shoshana Zuboff, The Age of Surveillance Capitalism (2019)
• Byung-Chul Han, The Burnout Society (2015)
• Christopher Lasch, The Culture of Narcissism (1979)

Why We Must Rethink Policing: History, Failure, and a Path Forward

The Metropolitan Police Service (MPS) has long been emblematic of the modern police force, yet recent investigations, including the BBC Panorama undercover report and the Baroness Casey Review, have exposed deep-seated issues within the institution. These revelations highlight systemic racism, sexism, and a culture that often undermines public trust. This essay argues that the foundational purpose of policing—to protect property and maintain order—has evolved in a manner that no longer aligns with contemporary societal needs. Drawing on recent findings, it contends that the current model of policing is inadequate and proposes a reimagined approach to public safety.

Introduction

The inception of modern policing can be traced back to Sir Robert Peel’s establishment of the Metropolitan Police Service in 1829. Designed to protect property and maintain order, the force’s primary function was to serve the interests of the propertied classes. Over time, the role of police expanded to encompass broader public safety responsibilities. However, recent investigative reports have cast a spotlight on the MPS’s internal culture, revealing systemic issues that question the efficacy and fairness of the current policing model.

Historical Context: The Origins of Modern Policing

Sir Robert Peel’s creation of the MPS was predicated on the need to protect property and maintain social order. This foundational purpose embedded certain priorities within the institution, emphasizing control and enforcement over community engagement and support. As policing evolved, these priorities became ingrained in the institution’s culture, influencing recruitment, training, and operational strategies.

Recent Investigations and Findings

BBC Panorama Undercover Report

In a groundbreaking undercover investigation, BBC Panorama exposed disturbing behaviors within a central London custody suite. Officers were recorded making racist, misogynistic, and Islamophobic remarks, dismissing rape allegations, and boasting about harming detainees. This footage not only shocked the public but also underscored the existence of a toxic culture within the MPS that tolerates discriminatory behavior.

Baroness Casey Review

Commissioned in the wake of the murder of Sarah Everard by a serving officer, the Baroness Casey Review aimed to assess the standards of behavior and internal culture of the MPS. The 2023 report concluded that the MPS is institutionally racist, sexist, and homophobic. It identified systemic failures, including inadequate leadership, a lack of accountability, and a culture that tolerates discrimination. The review’s findings align with the concerns raised by the Panorama investigation, painting a grim picture of the institution’s internal dynamics.

The Inadequacy of the Current Policing Model

The revelations from these investigations suggest that the current model of policing is ill-equipped to serve the diverse and evolving needs of society. The emphasis on enforcement and control, rooted in the historical purpose of protecting property, has led to practices that disproportionately affect marginalized communities. For instance, Black Londoners are more likely to experience police powers such as stop and search, and there is a significant disproportionality in arrest rates.

Furthermore, the culture within the MPS, as highlighted by both the Panorama report and the Casey Review, often undermines public trust. Discriminatory behaviors are not only prevalent but are also tolerated or ignored, leading to a breakdown in the relationship between the police and the communities they serve.

The BBC Panorama Investigation: A Real-Time Illustration

The BBC Panorama undercover investigation inside a central Met custody unit documented officers making racist, misogynistic and Islamophobic remarks, dismissing rape allegations and boasting about harming detainees. The Met responded by suspending officers, disbanding the implicated custody team and opening fast-track disciplinary procedures. The Independent Office for Police Conduct launched further inquiries. The footage shocked national leaders and civil society and rekindled debate about whether incremental internal reform is adequate. The Panorama material must be read alongside the Casey review and prior IOPC reports to see the pattern of failure.

Rethinking Public Safety: Principles for a New Design

  • Separation of Enforcement and Care: Crisis responses, particularly those involving mental health, homelessness, and substance abuse, should be led by trained professionals such as social workers and healthcare providers.
  • Community-Based Policing: Policing should be localized, with officers embedded within communities to build trust and understanding, emphasizing prevention and engagement over enforcement.
  • Accountability and Transparency: Independent oversight bodies should monitor police conduct and ensure accountability. Transparency in operations is crucial to rebuild public trust.
  • Cultural Transformation: Address ingrained institutional discrimination with comprehensive training, clear policies, and a commitment to diversity and inclusion.

Conclusion

The recent investigations into the Metropolitan Police Service have illuminated deep-rooted issues that question the institution’s ability to serve the public effectively and equitably. The historical purpose of policing, focused on protecting property and maintaining order, has evolved in a manner that no longer aligns with the needs of contemporary society. By reimagining public safety through a model that emphasizes care, community engagement, accountability, and cultural transformation, we can build a system that truly serves all members of society. The Panorama footage, the Casey review findings and related inquiries make the imperative clear. It is time to take the harder path and redesign how we secure public safety for everyone.

References

  1. BBC Panorama. (2023). Undercover: Inside the Met.
  2. Casey, L. (2023). Baroness Casey Review: Independent Review into the Standards of Behaviour and Internal Culture of the Metropolitan Police Service.
  3. Hackney Council. (2023). The Met Police as an institution is broken.
  4. Southwark Council. (2023). Response to Baroness Casey’s Final Report.
  5. Mayor’s Office for Policing and Crime (MOPAC). (2024). London Policing Board Equality Impact Assessment.
  6. Independent Office for Police Conduct (IOPC). (2024). Race Discrimination Report.

When Crown Corporations Forget Their Purpose

Two of Canada’s most visible Crown corporations, Canada Post and VIA Rail, seem to have lost their way. Both were created to knit together a vast and sparsely populated country, ensuring that every Canadian, no matter how remote, had access to essential services. Yet today, both have turned their gaze inward toward big-city markets, downgrading or abandoning the rural, northern, and remote communities they were meant to serve.

The problem is not simply poor management. It is a deeper contradiction in how we think about these federal institutions. Are they public services, funded and guaranteed by the government for the benefit of all? Or are they commercial enterprises expected to operate like businesses, focusing on profitability and efficiency?

Canada Post was once the backbone of national communication. Its universal service obligation was understood as a cornerstone of Canadian citizenship: every town and hamlet deserved a post office, and every address would receive mail. But with letter volumes collapsing and courier giants competing for parcels, Canada Post has shifted its focus to the most profitable markets. Rural post offices are shuttered or reduced to part-time counters in retail stores, and delivery standards in remote regions are steadily eroded.

VIA Rail’s story follows the same pattern. Founded in the late 1970s to preserve passenger trains when private railways abandoned them, it was meant to provide Canadians with a reliable and accessible alternative to highways and airlines. Instead, successive governments have treated VIA as a subsidy-dependent business rather than a national service. The Québec–Windsor corridor receives ever more investment, while iconic transcontinental and regional services limp along on political life support. Communities once promised rail access now watch the trains roll past them, or disappear entirely.

This retreat from universal service runs against the spirit of equality that Canadians expect from their public institutions. The Charter of Rights may not explicitly guarantee access to mail or transportation, but the principle of equal citizenship surely demands more than a market-driven approach that privileges Toronto and Montréal while ignoring Thompson or Whitehorse.

What’s going wrong is simple: Crown corporations are being managed as if they were private companies, not public trusts. Efficiency metrics and financial self-sufficiency dominate decision-making. National obligations are left vague, unenforced, or quietly abandoned. Governments praise the rhetoric of service while starving these corporations of the dedicated funding that would allow them to fulfill it.

Canada is not a compact, densely settled country where commercial logic alone can sustain public goods. It is a nation stitched together across vast geography by institutions that recognize service as a right, not a privilege. If we want Canada Post and VIA Rail to serve all Canadians, we need to stop pretending they can behave like for-profit businesses and still fulfill their mandates.

That choice is ultimately political. Parliament must decide: either redefine these corporations as genuine public services with modern mandates and stable funding, or admit that rural and northern Canadians will always be left behind.

Until then, our Crown corporations will continue to forget their purpose, and with it, a piece of the Canadian promise.

VIA Rail Misses the Train on Serving Canadians

VIA Rail recently trumpeted a new “pilot project” meant to shave half an hour off the Montréal–Toronto run. The idea was to run nonstop trains between the two big cities, bypassing Cornwall, Brockville, Kingston, and Belleville. The announcement was pitched as a bold experiment in “efficiency,” a nod to the 70 percent of surveyed passengers who supposedly wanted quicker travel between downtown cores.

But almost immediately, the wheels came off. Citing “operational constraints” with their partner CN, VIA Rail suspended the project before it even left the station. On paper, this looks like a technical hiccup, another example of Canada’s fragile rail system bending to the priorities of freight traffic. But in reality, the plan itself was the problem. It was never about serving Canadians, it was about copying European or Japanese rail gloss without any of the context, backbone, or infrastructure investment those systems require.

For decades, communities along the corridor have depended on trains as lifelines. Students in Kingston, retirees in Belleville, families in Cornwall – these aren’t “optional” stops. They’re the heart of what passenger rail is supposed to do: connect Canadians, not just shuttle executives between two large metro centres. The whole point of a public Crown corporation like VIA Rail is to balance speed with accessibility, ensuring that smaller communities aren’t stranded in the name of shaving 30 minutes off a trip for a select few.

Even politicians, often slow to notice transit tweaks, raised red flags. Brockville’s mayor called the nonstop plan “concerning” and Conservative MP Michel Barrett branded it “unacceptable.” They weren’t wrong. Stripping out regional stops would have meant sidelining thousands of riders, effectively telling entire towns they were expendable in the rush to serve big-city commuters.

The irony is that the project was marketed as modernization. But modernization, in a Canadian context, should mean strengthening regional ties, upgrading track infrastructure, and finally breaking free of freight’s stranglehold on passenger rail, not copying a TGV fantasy while underfunding the very communities that give the corridor its economic and social weight.

Instead, VIA Rail now looks like it tried to leap forward without noticing the tracks were missing. Worse, its apology to passengers rings hollow. The real apology is owed to the communities it dismissed as speed bumps, to the Canadians who still believe public transportation is about more than corporate surveys and flashy PR lines.

In the end, the scrapped nonstop pilot is a lesson: if VIA Rail wants to serve Canadians, it needs to remember who those Canadians are. They’re not just the 70 percent who want to get to Bay Street faster. They’re also the people in eastern Ontario whose taxes help keep VIA afloat, and who deserve not to be treated as collateral damage in a misguided chase for efficiency.

Sometimes slowing down isn’t failure, it’s service. VIA Rail might want to remember that before the next “pilot project” takes off.

The Future of Museums, Part Two: Digitization, Repatriation, and the New Cultural Commons

If the first step in the ethical evolution of museums is reckoning with the origins of their collections, the second must be reimagining how cultural treasures can be shared, studied, and celebrated without being hoarded. Fortunately, the 21st century offers tools our forebears could only dream of. Digital technology, particularly high-resolution 3D scanning, modeling, and immersive virtual platforms, is rewriting the rules of preservation and access. When used with cultural sensitivity and ethical intention, these tools allow us to honour ownership, facilitate repatriation, and still nourish a global commons of cultural knowledge.

Take 3D scanning: what was once an expensive novelty is now a powerful instrument of restitution and democratization. Museums can now create hyper-detailed digital replicas of artifacts, capturing every chisel mark, brushstroke, or weave of fabric. These models can be studied, shared online, integrated into augmented or virtual reality tools, or even 3D printed, all without requiring the physical artifact to remain on display in a distant capital city. This changes the equation. The original object can go home, back to the community or country from which it was taken, while its likeness continues to serve educational and scientific purposes worldwide.

There is a quiet but profound dignity in this digital compromise. It allows for the physical return of heritage to those to whom it belongs, not just legally, but spiritually and historically, while also supporting the broader mission of museums to educate and inspire. And in many cases, the digital version can do things the original never could. Scholars can examine its dimensions in microscopic detail. Teachers can beam it into classrooms. Visitors can manipulate it, interact with it, and even walk through the worlds from which it came.

Yet let’s not pretend digital tools are a panacea. A scan cannot replicate the scent of parchment, the weight of a carved idol, or the sacredness of a funerary mask imbued with ancestral memory. Creating these models demands money, time, and skilled technicians, resources that smaller institutions may lack. But for those who can muster them, the return is substantial: ethical legitimacy, global engagement, and future-proof access to cultural heritage.

Enter the virtual museum, a concept whose time has truly come. With internet access now ubiquitous in much of the world, online museum platforms are exploding. Whether it’s the British Museum’s virtual galleries or the immersive tours of the Louvre, these digital spaces offer a new kind of cultural experience: borderless, accessible, and unconstrained by bricks, mortar, or geopolitics. For those unable to travel, due to distance, disability, or cost, virtual museums are not just convenient; they are transformational.

These platforms do more than display scanned objects. They weave in video, sound, oral histories, and expert commentary. They let users “handle” objects virtually, walk through reconstructions of lost cities, or compare artworks from across time zones and traditions. And crucially, they offer a space where repatriated artifacts can remain visible to the world. A sculpture returned to Nigeria or a mask restored to a Pacific island doesn’t need to vanish from global consciousness. Its story, and its scanned image, can be co-curated with local voices, shared respectfully, and kept safe in the digital domain.

This co-curation is vital. A truly decolonized digital strategy doesn’t just upload images, it shares authority. It ensures that the descendants of artifact-makers help decide how those objects are described, displayed, and interpreted. Digital museums can become sites of collaboration, not appropriation; places where cultural equity is baked into the code.

And then there’s the sustainability argument. Virtual museums dramatically reduce the environmental costs of international exhibitions, staff travel, and artifact shipping. They offer resilience against disaster, a fire, flood, or war may destroy a gallery, but not its digital twin. In a world of increasing instability, that matters.

So where does this leave us? It leaves us at the edge of something hopeful. The combination of digital modeling and virtual museums does not replace the need for physical repatriation, it complements and strengthens it. It allows us to move beyond the binary of “ours” versus “theirs,” and into a more nuanced, shared stewardship of humanity’s treasures.

The museum of the future is not a fortress. It is a node in a network, a partner in a dialogue, and a bridge across histories. If museums can embrace this vision, ethical, inclusive, and digitally empowered, they can transform from institutions of possession to institutions of connection. And that, perhaps, is the most valuable exhibit of all.