Taylor Sheridan’s Frontier Fantasies: Soap Operas for Aging White Men

Taylor Sheridan has built a sprawling television empire on rugged landscapes, brooding patriarchs, and endless blood feuds. From Yellowstone to its numerous prequels and spin-offs, Sheridan’s work is praised for its cinematic quality and unapologetic tone. Yet beneath the grit and grandeur lies a deeply regressive worldview, one that glorifies violence, fetishizes stoic masculinity, and frames modernity as a corrupting force. These stories, while framed as frontier epics, function more as soap operas for aging white men: emotionally overwrought dramas soaked in nostalgia, where guns solve problems, and tradition trumps nuance.

At the heart of Sheridan’s philosophy is a belief in inherited power and property. His characters, particularly John Dutton in Yellowstone, cling to the land like a divine birthright. This is not stewardship in any ecological sense, but a paternalistic claim to dominion. Dutton does not negotiate with change, he bulldozes through it, literally and metaphorically. Critics rightly question the morality of a narrative where indigenous land claims, environmental protections, or economic diversification are cast as existential threats to “the way things have always been.” The series consistently frames progress as villainy, while lionizing those who use violence to resist it.

Sheridan’s work presents the gun as a tool of justice, personal resolve, and even emotional release. Conflicts are rarely resolved through dialogue or diplomacy. Instead, ambushes, shootouts, and extrajudicial killings drive the plot forward. This emphasis on frontier justice may fit the cowboy aesthetic, but in today’s America, riven by mass shootings, militia extremism, and political radicalization, it sends a troubling message. Sheridan’s characters operate outside the law not because they are heroic, but because the narrative rewards them for doing so. The recurring theme is clear: the world is corrupt, so the righteous man must impose his will through force.

What makes this more insidious is how it’s dressed in prestige television aesthetics. The sweeping Montana vistas, the brooding scores, the gravel-voiced monologues, all lend a false depth to what is essentially melodrama. The family betrayals, secret children, faked deaths, and generational curses are not far removed from daytime soap tropes. Yet because the leads are men in cowboy hats instead of suburban women, the genre gets rebranded as “serious.” The truth is, Sheridan’s shows are built on sentimentality and spectacle, not substance.

This formula appeals most strongly to a particular demographic: aging white men who feel alienated by modern culture and politics. Sheridan offers them a mirror, one that reflects strength, clarity, and moral certainty, even when cloaked in violence. It’s a fantasy of relevance in a world that has moved on. The danger is not that these shows are popular, but that they reinforce a worldview where compromise is weakness and empathy is suspect.

In the end, Sheridan’s work is less about the American West than about a fear of losing control. It’s a high-budget, high-caliber soap opera for those yearning for a time when men ruled without question, and when problems could be solved with a bullet and a branding iron.

Five Things We Learned This Week

Here’s your fresh edition of “Five Things We Learned This Week” for July 19–25, 2025, featuring completely new global developments – all occurring within the past seven days:

🌍 1. China Cracks Down on Strategic Minerals Smuggling

China officially pledged to toughen enforcement against smuggling of vital strategic minerals like rare earths, citing increased covert operations, including false declarations and third-country transshipments.  This crackdown aims to safeguard materials essential to sectors from chipmaking to defense, reinforcing China’s zero‑tolerance export policy.

🌐 2. DRC and M23 Rebels Sign Ceasefire in Doha

On July 19, the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) and M23 rebel forces signed a declaration of principles in Doha, agreeing to an immediate ceasefire, detainee exchanges under ICRC oversight, and peace talks scheduled for August amid restored state authority efforts. 

🌐 3. Massive Russia Drone and Missile Attack on Ukraine

Overnight July 18–19, Ukraine endured a major assault of more than 30 missiles and about 300 drones launched by Russia, damaging critical infrastructure in Sumy and causing widespread power outages.

🌀 4. Magnitude 5.6 Earthquake Hits Northern Iran

A shallow 5.6 magnitude earthquake struck northern Iran on July 19, as reported by seismic authorities. The quake occurred at just 3 km depth, raising regional concerns about damage and preparedness in seismically active zones. 

🏅 5. British Athletes Finally Receive 1997 World Relay Gold

At London’s Diamond League event, Britain’s men’s 4×400 m relay teamwere presented with their 1997 World Championship gold medals, awarded 28 years late after the U.S. team was disqualified for doping.

The ceremony was attended by 60,000 cheering fans, honoring athletes Roger Black, Iwan Thomas, Jamie Baulch, Mark Richardson, and heat runner Mark Hylton.

This edition brings five entirely new, date-specific events from July 19–25, 2025: ranging from geopolitics and conflict, to environmental policy and sports history. Let me know if you’d like direct links or further analysis on any of these!

Bobby Donnell: A Case Study in Hypocrisy, Fragility, and the Collapse of Moral Leadership

I’ve been rewatching The Practice, hoping for a dose of nostalgia: those late-90s courtroom theatrics, that moody theme tune, and the familiar rhythm of idealism crashing against legal reality. But what surprised me wasn’t the storytelling or the era, it was how deeply repelled I became by the show’s lead character, Bobby Donnell. A man of supposedly good intentions, he’s ultimately undone by his chronic emotional dishonesty and suffocating self-righteousness. In the end, the best thing the show did was pave the way for the arrival of the Boston Legal characters, who brought the nuance, wit, and moral complexity that Bobby never could.

For a character originally framed as the moral heart of The Practice, Bobby Donnell ultimately emerges as its most damning contradiction. Played with a smoldering mix of gravitas and entitlement by Dylan McDermott, Bobby begins the series as a principled criminal defense attorney running a small Boston firm with a mission: protect the rights of the accused, even the despised. But over eight seasons, Donnell unravels, not just under the weight of his cases, but under the pressure of his own hypocrisy, ego, and emotional rigidity. He becomes less a moral compass and more a cautionary tale of what happens when leadership is confused with self-righteousness.

From the very beginning, Bobby insists his firm is about justice, not winning, not profit, but justice. Yet in practice, he constantly makes decisions based not on principle but personal discomfort. In Season 2’s “Line of Duty,” he castigates Ellenor Frutt for defending a client accused of killing a cop, saying some cases just shouldn’t be touched, even though the client’s constitutional rights were clearly at risk. Later, he takes on a mob-connected case, barely blinking, justifying it with lawyerly detachment. His selective outrage isn’t about morality; it’s about optics and control.

This moral cherry-picking repeats again and again. He regularly scolds his colleagues, especially Ellenor and Eugene, for taking hard cases, yet he routinely inserts himself into the most controversial trials, usually for ego or narrative centrality. His courtroom speeches swell with high-minded rhetoric, but outside the courtroom, he withholds trust, refuses to share decision-making power, and isolates himself emotionally from his team. Even when he claims to be protecting the firm’s integrity, he does so in ways that diminish the very people who built it with him.

Perhaps the clearest example of Donnell’s contradictions is his relationship with Lindsay Dole. Their romance, marriage, and eventual collapse unfold like a metaphor for Bobby himself, filled with good intentions, but poisoned by his inability to be emotionally honest. He expects Lindsay to carry the weight of their private life while he wavers and withdraws, unsure whether he wants to be a husband, a leader, or a martyr. In Season 7, when Lindsay leaves both the firm and the marriage, Bobby doesn’t fight for either. He simply broods, as if his silent suffering proves moral superiority. It doesn’t. It proves emotional cowardice.

By the time we reach Season 8, Bobby’s time is up. In the premiere episode “We the People,” he quietly announces his resignation, telling Eugene the firm has “changed.” But it’s clear to everyone, audience included, that it’s Bobby who has lost the thread. He leaves not with a grand gesture or hard-earned redemption, but with a hollow retreat. He has become irrelevant in the very world he once dominated. His ideals, which once energized the firm, now suffocate it. His refusal to adapt, to delegate, or to acknowledge his own contradictions has rendered him inert.

This transition is even more striking when Alan Shore, played by James Spader, is introduced. Where Donnell is rigid, Shore is fluid. Where Bobby moralizes, Alan provokes. Where Donnell masks his ambition behind virtue, Shore lays his cards on the table and dares anyone to call his bluff. Alan Shore is deeply flawed, cynical, manipulative, and unrepentantly arrogant, but he is never dishonest with himself or others about what he is. That self-awareness becomes his superpower. In contrast, Bobby drowns in the space between who he thinks he is and how he actually behaves.

This contrast explains why Shore succeeded Donnell as the show’s new focus, and why Boston Legal, the spin-off centered on Alan, felt so fresh. Alan’s moral ambiguity is deliberate, ironic, and challenging. Bobby’s is accidental and tragic. One is a commentary; the other is an artifact.

And perhaps that’s where Bobby Donnell best reflects the culture of his time. Emerging in the late 1990s, Bobby embodied the era’s discomfort with ambiguity. He was created at a time when American television wanted its male leads to be strong, sensitive, and righteous, but without really questioning how they acquired their authority. He was a Gen-X liberal fantasy: passionate about justice, yet plagued by self-doubt; emotionally repressed, yet morally certain. As the show matured, and as post-9/11 culture demanded sharper moral distinctions, Donnell’s gray-zone ethics and hand-wringing leadership began to look less noble and more self-indulgent.

In the end, Bobby Donnell is not a crusader. He is a man who mistook his own fragility for integrity, and his discomfort for principle. He failed to grow, to share power, or to examine his contradictions. His quiet exit from The Practice wasn’t just a narrative decision or a budget cut, it was the necessary conclusion of a character who never truly earned the role of moral center. And as Alan Shore stepped into the void, The Practice pivoted from sermons to satire, from guilt to guile, and was, arguably, better for it.

It’s Time for a Global BBC iPlayer: Why International Access Is Long Overdue

For decades, the BBC has been a benchmark of public broadcasting, respected for its journalism, admired for its dramas, and cherished for its documentaries. Yet, for those of us living outside the United Kingdom, access to this cultural wealth remains frustratingly limited. While the BBC continues to produce world-class content with global appeal, its flagship streaming service, BBC iPlayer, remains geo-blocked to users outside the UK. In an era of global media consumption, it’s time for that to change. The BBC should offer a subscription-based version of iPlayer to international audiences.

First, the demand is clear. British television has a massive international fanbase. From Doctor Who to Planet Earth, from Fleabag to Line of Duty, BBC programmes consistently rank among the most downloaded, discussed, and pirated shows worldwide. This level of interest indicates a global market willing to pay for legal, high-quality access. As streaming becomes the dominant form of content delivery, the absence of a legal international BBC iPlayer forces viewers either to do without or to use VPNs to bypass regional restrictions. A subscription model would provide a legitimate, revenue-generating alternative that meets the needs of this global audience.

Second, the BBC’s current patchwork approach to international content distribution is inadequate. Services like BBC Select and BritBox offer limited slices of the full iPlayer experience, focused mostly on documentaries or classic series. These platforms, while welcome, are no substitute for the full breadth of current programming; including news, culture, drama, comedy, and live events, that defines the BBC brand. By restricting its best content to UK viewers, the BBC undermines its own global reach and influence.

Third, public broadcasters everywhere face funding challenges. The BBC is no exception, with licence fee revenues under political and economic pressure. A global subscription iPlayer could open a valuable new revenue stream, reducing dependence on domestic licence fees while remaining true to the BBC’s public service mission. Other national broadcasters, such as Australia’s ABC and Germany’s ZDF, are experimenting with broader digital access models. The BBC, with its unmatched content library and global brand recognition, is uniquely positioned to lead in this space.

There are an estimated 5.5 million British citizens living abroad, many of whom maintain strong cultural ties to the UK. If just a quarter of them, around 1.4 million people, were willing to pay £100 annually for full access to BBC iPlayer, it would generate an additional £140 million in revenue. That figure alone is equivalent to nearly 4% of the BBC’s annual licence fee income, and could significantly offset recent budget deficits. For comparison, BritBox, a joint venture between the BBC and ITV offering only a limited catalogue of British content, has attracted approximately 3.4 million subscribers worldwide. This proves there is a willing and growing international audience ready to pay for high-quality British programming, even without live news, current affairs, or the full range of iPlayer’s offerings. A global iPlayer subscription model would not only bring in meaningful new revenue, it would also reinforce the BBC’s relevance, while reaffirming the corporation’s commitment to serving British citizens, no matter where they live.

And finally, speaking personally, as a Brit living in Canada, I want access to myBBC in all its glory. I was raised on it, I trust it, and I miss it. I am more than willing to pay a fair subscription fee for full access to the iPlayer, including news, current affairs, live coverage, and the very best of British storytelling. I am not alone. Millions of British expatriates around the world feel the same. We are not asking for a free ride, just a way to reconnect with a cultural and civic institution that still matters deeply to us.

In a world where cultural exchange is increasingly digital, the BBC has both an opportunity and an obligation to act. Millions already turn to it for trusted journalism and rich storytelling. A global iPlayer would not only serve this audience, it would strengthen the BBC’s mission in the 21st century. It’s time to unlock the doors and let the world in.

Sources:
• BBC Select: https://www.bbcselect.com/
• BritBox Canada: https://www.britbox.com/ca/
• BBC Annual Plan 2024–2025: https://www.bbc.com/aboutthebbc/reports/annualplan
• Ofcom Report on Public Service Broadcasting (2023): https://www.ofcom.org.uk/__data/assets/pdf_file/0021/266616/psb-annual-report-2023.pdf

“I should be watching Question Time
That ain’t workin’, that’s the way you do it – 
I want my, I want my, I want my BBC!”

Celebrating Two Giants of Science Communication: Bob McDonald and James Burke

In the world of public science education, Bob McDonald and James Burke stand as exceptional figures, each with a distinctive voice and approach that have resonated globally. Though separated by geography and generations, their work shares a profound impact: transforming science into a compelling story for the curious.

From Unlikely Beginnings to National Influence
Bob McDonald, born in Wingham, Ontario, in 1951, did not follow the traditional path of a scientist. He struggled in school, flunked Grade 9 and dropped out of York University after two years studying English, philosophy, and theatre. A serendipitous job at the Ontario Science Centre, earned through sheer enthusiasm, marked the start of a lifelong journey in public science communication. Without formal scientific training, McDonald has become Canada’s most trusted science voice, hosting CBC’s Quirks & Quarks since 1992, and serving as chief science correspondent on television. 

James Burke, born in Derry, Northern Ireland, in 1936, followed a more traditional academic route. He studied Middle English at Jesus College, Oxford, graduating with a BA and later MA. Between 1965 and 1971, Burke was a presenter on BBC’s Tomorrow’s World. He gained fame writing and hosting Connections (1978) and The Day the Universe Changed (1985), series that showcased his talent for tracing historical and technological threads. 

Education, Training, and Foundational Strengths
McDonald’s lack of formal scientific credentials is a central feature of his appeal. He studied the arts, which honed his gifts in storytelling and public speaking, skills that later became essential to his career. His journey underscores resilience and a capacity to translate complex ideas into accessible, journalistic narratives.

Burke’s Oxford education provided a structured foundation in research and critical thinking. While not trained as a scientist per se, he combined rigorous historical analysis with a broad intellectual curiosity. His RAF service and early career at the BBC developed his confidence and communication flair.

Contrasting Approaches to Science Communication
McDonald’s technique is rooted in clarity, practicality, and immediacy. Hosting Quirks & Quarks, he highlights current research, on climate, space, health, while prioritizing accuracy without jargon. His role as translator bridges the gap between scientific experts and everyday audiences: “Science is a foreign language, I’m a translator.”

Burke, by contrast, is the consummate systems thinker. His hallmark is showing how seemingly small innovations, like eyeglasses or the printing press, can trigger sweeping societal changes. Through richly woven narratives, he demonstrates how scientific ideas intertwine with culture and history, often leading to unpredictable outcomes. This interdisciplinary storytelling encourages deeper reflection on how technology shapes our world – and vice versa.

Media Styles: Radio vs. Television, News Today vs. History Forever
McDonald’s charm lies in his warm, unassuming tone on radio and television. He phrases dense topics through everyday analogies and stories from Canadian science, whether about the Arctic, Indigenous knowledge, or the cosmos. 

Burke’s on-screen style is brisk, witty, and expansive. His BBC documentaries – ConnectionsThe Day the Universe Changed, and recent work on CuriosityStream, are known for dramatic reenactments, conceptual models, and a playful yet authoritative narrative. Burke’s reflections on the acceleration of innovation continue to spark debate decades after their original broadcast. 

Enduring Impact and Legacy
McDonald’s legacy lies in his service to science literacy across Canada. From children’s TV (WonderstruckHeads Up!) to adult radio audiences, he’s been recognized with top honours: Officer of the Order of Canada, Gemini awards, Michael Smith Award, and having an asteroid named after him.  His impact endures in classrooms, public lectures, and the homes of everyday Canadians.

Burke’s legacy is rooted in innovation thinking and intellectual connectivity. Connections remains a cult classic; educators continue using its frameworks to teach history-of-science and systems thinking.  His predictions about information technology and society anticipated many 21st‑century developments. Though some critique his sweeping interpretations, his work has inspired generations to view scientific progress as a dynamic, interconnected web.

Shared Vision in Distinct Voices
Both communicators share an essential understanding: science is a human story, not a closed discipline. McDonald demystifies today’s science by translating research into personal, relatable narratives rooted in Canadian context. Burke invites audiences on a historical journey, spotlighting the domino effect of invention and the cultural echoes of discovery.

Their differences are complementary. McDonald equips the public with scientific knowledge needed to navigate contemporary issues, from climate change to pandemics. Burke provides a framework for understanding those issues within a broader historical and societal tapestry, helping audiences grasp unexpected consequences and future possibilities.

Bob McDonald and James Burke are two pillars of public science communication. McDonald’s art lies in translating contemporary science into accessible stories for mass audiences. Burke’s genius is in contextualizing those stories across centuries and societies, revealing the hidden architecture beneath technological change. Together, they showcase the power of clarity and connection, proving that science is not only informative, but deeply human and forever evolving. Their work continues to inspire curiosity, critical thinking, and a deeper appreciation for how science shapes, and is shaped by, our world.

Why Canada’s Digital Services Tax Is Poking the Bear – And Why Australia and New Zealand Are Still Holding the Stick

It was only a matter of time before Canada threw its toque into the ring on the global debate over taxing tech giants. After years of polite patience, Ottawa finally said enough is enough and committed to implementing a Digital Services Tax (DST), retroactively, no less, dating back to January 1, 2022. The goal? To make Big Tech pay its fair share for the billions they earn from Canadians’ online clicks, swipes, and searches. Predictably, this move hasn’t exactly gone down well south of the border, especially with Donald Trump, who’s already threatening retaliatory tariffs faster than you can say “Google it.”

Canada’s DST is a 3% levy on revenues from digital services; think online marketplaces, advertising platforms, and social media, that target Canadian users. The tax only kicks in for companies making over €750 million globally and more than $20 million in Canadian digital revenues. So, yes, this is about Amazon, Google, Meta, and Apple. Not your cousin’s Shopify side hustle.

The reasoning behind the move is, frankly, hard to argue with. For years, digital multinationals have made huge profits in countries where they have lots of users but no physical offices. Since our tax codes were written in the days of rotary phones, these companies have legally side-stepped corporate taxes in places like Canada while hoovering up data and ad dollars with industrial-grade efficiency. The DST is intended as a band-aid solution until a global fix comes together, though that band-aid is now being applied with an increasingly firm hand.

In truth, the global tide may finally be turning on Silicon Valley’s long, tax-free world tour. For over a decade, Big Tech has surfed a wave of international growth, scaling into nearly every market on Earth without paying local dues. Armed with sophisticated tax avoidance schemes, usually routed through Ireland or the Netherlands, the giants of the digital economy have profited handsomely while governments watched domestic retailers struggle to compete. But now, faced with growing public backlash and creaking public coffers, countries from France to India to Canada are drawing a line. The message is clear: if you make money off our citizens, you’re going to help fund the roads, schools, and social programs that keep them clicking.

The global fix in question is the OECD’s “Two-Pillar” solution, a diplomatic marathon attempting to modernize international tax rules. Pillar One aims to reallocate taxing rights to market countries (like Canada), while Pillar Two would establish a global minimum corporate tax of 15%. Canada has said it would delay DST collection if the OECD deal is implemented, but with the U.S. dragging its heels on ratification, Ottawa is preparing to go it alone.

That’s where Trump comes in. Never one to let a perceived slight slide, he’s treating Canada’s DST as a direct assault on U.S. interests. After all, the companies getting dinged are almost entirely American. Trump’s threats to slap retaliatory tariffs on Canadian exports are classic “America First” bluster, but they’re not without precedent. The U.S. already opened Section 301 investigations into several other countries’ DSTs, accusing them of unfairly targeting American firms. Biden’s administration cooled the rhetoric, but the sentiment remains.

Of course, Canada isn’t the only country to stick its neck out on this. France was the pioneer, pushing ahead with a 3% DST despite fierce U.S. pushback. Italy, Spain, and the UK followed suit. Even India got into the act with its “equalisation levy,” predating many Western attempts. Each of these nations, like Canada, grew tired of waiting for multilateral action while Silicon Valley giants dodged their tax nets with Olympic-level agility.

Interestingly, not everyone in the Anglosphere has been quite so bold. Take Australia. A few years back, it flirted with a DST, there were consultations, white papers, and worried glances toward Washington. But ultimately, Canberra decided to give the OECD process a shot and beefed up its anti-avoidance laws instead. Its Multinational Anti-Avoidance Law and Diverted Profits Tax now let the tax office go after digital firms that try to shuffle profits offshore. It’s the equivalent of hiring a tough new accountant rather than inventing a new tax altogether.

New Zealand, meanwhile, has taken a “just in case” approach. Legislation for a 3% DST was passed in 2023, but it’s sitting in a drawer for now, ready to go if the OECD talks collapse. The Kiwis have been clear they don’t want to pull the trigger unless absolutely necessary, probably because they’d prefer not to find themselves on the receiving end of a tweetstorm or tariff tantrum from the next American administration.

So here we are: Canada, gloves off and calculator in hand, is forging ahead, determined to claw back a fair share from the tech titans. Australia and New Zealand, pragmatic as ever, are hedging their bets and keeping trade relationships intact, at least for now. But even their patience has limits. The longer the OECD deal stalls, the more tempting it becomes to follow Canada’s lead.

In the end, this is a fight not about code or commerce, but about fairness in the digital age. The world’s tax systems were built for an era of railroads and oil refineries, not cloud storage and influencer revenue. Until the global rules catch up, expect more countries to test their own digital tax solutions. Whether that means poking the American bear or just poking around in policy drawers remains to be seen. But one thing’s certain: tech giants might finally be running out of places to hide.

Pride Without the Glitter: Why Canada’s Queer Community is Reclaiming Its Roots

There’s a quiet, but growing conversation taking place within Canada’s queer communities, one that asks whether it might be time to scale back the spectacle of Pride, and get back to what it was really about in the first place. The parades are still colourful, the parties still loud, but something’s shifting. With corporate sponsorship drying up and the political climate growing colder, many in the 2SLGBTQIA+ community are rethinking what Pride should look like in this new era.

For years, Pride events in cities like Toronto, Vancouver, and Montreal have felt less like grassroots activism, and more like mobile advertising campaigns. Walk down the route and you’ll see branded floats from banks, telcos, and beer companies. TD Bank, to name just one example, once earned applause for being an early supporter of queer inclusion, but these days, its giant green float can feel more like marketing than allyship. Many of us, especially those who’ve been around long enough to remember when participating in a Pride parade involved appreciable risk, can’t help but feel the soul has been somewhat bleached out of the rainbow.

Image source: Catalina Vásquez on Behance

Part of the shift is financial. With the Trump-era backlash and culture wars bleeding across the border, some corporations, particularly U.S.-based multinationals, are scaling back their public-facing support of Pride. In 2024, Reuters reported that global brands have “significantly reduced” their LGBTQ-themed campaigns in markets like Canada to avoid conservative backlash. These decisions affect more than just parade floats; they impact grants, community programming, and the broader financial ecosystem that’s supported major Pride festivals for years.

Yet, this isn’t necessarily bad news. In fact, many long-time activists see it as an opportunity to re-centre Pride around the people it’s meant to serve. Before there were glitter canons and wristbands with logos, Pride was a protest. The first Canadian marches, in the wake of the 1981 Toronto bathhouse raids, were acts of raw defiance, calling out police brutality and demanding civil rights. Nobody was handing out swag. No corporations were clambering to associate their brand with queer people. That history matters.

Now, with funding drying up and public support shifting, a new generation of organizers is looking backward to move forward. Smaller Pride celebrations are cropping up across the country that focus less on parade floats and more on community picnics, protest marches, zine fairs, and teach-ins. In places like Peterborough and Hamilton, organizers have made the deliberate choice to scale down the main event in favour of something that feels more connected, less commercial.

We’re at a cultural crossroads. Pride doesn’t need to be louder to be more meaningful. In fact, the moment may call for exactly the opposite. There’s power in returning to the grassroots, not out of nostalgia, but out of necessity. If Pride becomes less about the glitter and more about the grit again, that might just be the most radical thing we’ve done in decades.

Sources
• CBC News (June 2024): “Pride organizers across Canada reassess role of corporate sponsorship”
• Reuters (June 2024): “Global brands rethink LGBTQ marketing amid backlash”
• Xtra Magazine (May 2023): “The Fight Over Pride: Protest or Party?
• The Canadian Encyclopedia (2022): “How the Bathhouse Raids Sparked Toronto Pride”

Five Things We Learned This Week

Here’s the latest edition of “Five Things We Learned This Week” for June 21–27, 2025, featuring fresh global developments—no repeats, all within the seven-day window:

🌩️ 1. Massive Tornado & Derecho Outbreak Sweeps Northern U.S. & Canada

• Between June 19–22, a severe weather event delivered 26+ tornadoes and hurricane-force derechos across the northern U.S. and southern Canada   .

• The EF3 tornado near Enderlin, North Dakota, was the deadliest in the state since 1978, claiming three lives; overall, seven fatalities and numerous injuries were confirmed  .

• Canadian provinces, including Saskatchewan, recorded at least eight additional tornado touchdowns during the event  .

🔭 2. Vera C. Rubin Observatory Unveils First “First Light” Cosmic Images

• On June 23, the observatory released its inaugural ultra-high-resolution snapshot capturing the Virgo Cluster, Trifid and Lagoon Nebulae, and about 2,000 new asteroids  .

• This marks a major milestone in Earth’s most powerful digital telescope operations, offering a transformative look at deep-space science ().

🛰️ 3. ESA’s Solar Orbiter Reveals the Sun’s South Pole

• On June 11, images from the European Space Agency’s Solar Orbiter provided the first-ever detailed view of the Sun’s south pole  .

• The data sheds new light on solar magnetic dynamics and the mechanics of the solar cycle—opening avenues for better space weather forecasts  .

🤖 4. DeepMind’s AlphaGenome Accelerates DNA Sequencing

• Announced this week, AlphaGenome—an AI model by DeepMind—can analyze million-base-pair DNA sequences with single-base resolution, significantly advancing genetic diagnostics  .

• This leap forward holds huge potential for research into genetic disorders like spinal muscular atrophy  .

🎤 5. Glastonbury Festival Rocked by Historic Lineup Kicking Off June 25

• The Glastonbury Festival began on June 25, headlined by The 1975, Neil Young, and Olivia Rodrigo, with over 90 hours of coverage via BBC TV, radio, and iPlayer  .

• The festival preview included broadcasts of Pyramid Stage sets in UHD, accessibility services, and even children’s content on CBeebies  .

Each of these highlights occurred within June 21–27, 2025, and are completely new to our weekly summary; spanning weather, astronomy, solar science, AI genomics, and music festival culture. Would you like this week’s story links or deeper commentary?

Rebooting the Net: Building a User-First Internet for All Canadians

Canada stands at a pivotal moment in its digital evolution. As underscored by a recent CBC Radio exploration of internet policy and trade, the current digital ecosystem often prioritizes commercial and regulatory players, rather than everyday users. To truly serve all Canadians, we must shift to an intentionally user‑centric internet; one that delivers equitable access, intuitive public services, meaningful privacy, and digital confidence.

Closing the Digital Divide: Beyond Access
While Infrastructure Canada reports 93 % national broadband availability at 50/10 Mbps, rural, Northern and Indigenous communities continue to face significant shortfalls. Just 62 % of rural households enjoy such speeds vs. 91 % of urban dwellers.   Additionally, cost remains a barrier, Canadians pay among the highest broadband prices in the OECD, exacerbated by data caps and limited competition.

Recent federal investments in the Universal Broadband Fund (C$3.2 B) and provincial connectivity strategies have shown gains: 2 million more Canadians connected by mid‑2024, with a 23 % increase in rural speed‑test results. Yet, hardware, affordability, and “last mile” digital inclusion remain hurdles. LEO satellites, advancements already underway with Telesat and others, offer cost-effective backhaul solutions for remote regions.

To be truly user‑focused, Canada must pair infrastructure rollout with subsidized hardware, low-cost data plans, and community Wi‑Fi in public spaces, mirroring what CAP once offered, and should reinvigorate .

Prioritizing Digital Literacy & Inclusion
Access means little if users lack confidence or fluency. Statistics Canada places 24 % of Canadians in “basic” or non‑user categories, with seniors especially vulnerable (62 % in 2018, down to 48 % by 2020). Further, Toronto-based research reveals that while 98 % of households are nominally connected, only precarious skill levels and siloed services keep Canada from being digitally inclusive.

We must emulate Ontario’s inclusive design principle: “When we design for the edges, we design for everyone”. Programs like CAP and modern iterations in schools, libraries, community centres, and First Nations-led deployments (e.g., First Mile initiatives) must be expanded to offer digital mentorship, lifelong e‑skills training, and device recycling initiatives with security support. 

Transforming Public Services with Co‑Design
The Government of Canada’s “Digital Ambition” (2024‑25) enshrines user‑centric, trusted, accessible services as its primary outcome. Yet progress relies on embedding authentic user input. Success stories from Code for Canada highlight the power of embedding designers and technologists into service teams, co‑creating solutions that resonate with citizen realities.  

Additionally, inclusive design guru Jutta Treviranus points out that systems built for users with disabilities naturally benefit all, promoting scenarios that anticipate diverse needs from launch.   Government adoption of accessible UX components, like Canada’s WET toolkit aligned with WCAG 2.0 AA, is commendable, but needs continuous testing by diverse users.

Preserving Openness and Trust
Canada’s 1993 Telecommunications Act prohibits ISPs from prioritizing or throttling traffic, anchoring net neutrality in law. Public support remains high, two‑thirds of internet users back open access. Upholding this principle ensures that small businesses, divisive news outlets, and marginalized voices aren’t silenced by commercial gatekeepers.

Meanwhile, Freedom House still rates Canada among the most open digital nations, though concerns persist about surveillance laws and rural cost differentials. Privacy trust can be further solidified through transparency mandates, public Wi‑Fi privacy guarantees, and clear data‑minimization standards where user data isn’t exploited post‑consent.

Cultivating a Better Digital Ecosystem
While Canada’s Connectivity Strategy unites government, civil society, and industry, meaningful alignment on digital policy remains uneven.   We need a human‑centred policy playbook: treat emerging tech (AI, broadband, fintech) as programmable infrastructure tied to inclusive economic goals. 

Local governments and Indigenous groups must be empowered as co‑designers, with funding and regulation responsive to community‑level priorities. Lessons from rural digital inclusion show collaborative successes when demand‑side (training, digital culture) and supply‑side (infrastructure, affordability) converge.

Canada’s digital future must be anchored in the user experience. That means:
• Universal access backed by public hardware, affordable plans, and modern connectivity technologies like LEO satellite
• Sustained digital literacy programs, especially for low‑income, elderly, newcomer, and Indigenous populations
• Public service design led by users and accessibility standards
• Firm protection of net neutrality and strengthened privacy regulations
• Bottom‑up: including Indigenous and local, participation in digital policy and infrastructure planning

This is not merely a public service agenda, it’s a growth imperative. By centering users, Canada can build a digital ecosystem that’s trustworthy, inclusive, and innovation-ready. That future depends on federal action, community engagement, and sustained investment, but the reward is a true digital renaissance that serves every Canadian.