Category Archives: History & Heritage

Posts that mine the past to illuminate the present—whether through political memory, family lineage, or historical analogy. From the Scottish Highlands to the Paraguayan interior, these reflections offer both insight and continuity across generations and geographies.

Aston Brook Green – Before Student Housing Became a Product

Posted on by
Reply

This week, Aston Students’ Union handed over The Green (originally called Aston Brook Green) to Midland Heart, ending forty-five years of student-led housing. On paper, it is just a change of management. A shift in responsibility. Another entry in the long story of how universities house their students.

In practice, it marks the end of something rarer.

For nearly half a century, The Green was a place where students were not treated primarily as customers, nor as problems to be managed. They were treated as adults capable of running a community. Affordability, stability, and shared responsibility mattered more than luxury or profit. That was what defined the place.

I lived there as an undergrad from 1983 to 1985, and was elected Chairperson of the Aston Students’ Union for the final year.  At the time, it did not feel historic. It felt ordinary. And that, looking back, was the most telling detail of all.

What The Green Was
The Green began in the early 1980s, a Students’ Union project built on converted Victorian terraces a short walk from campus. Midland Heart owned the properties, but the Students’ Union ran the show. Wardens, offices, rules, social events – they were all there, but in a way that trusted students to be responsible rather than policing them.

Rent was low, all utility bills included. Students with part-time jobs could manage it easily, and that alone changed the atmosphere. The buildings were basic: functional kitchens, shared bathrooms, laundry rooms that smelled faintly of detergent and late-night pasta. It did not matter. Residents understood that sufficiency was enough, and that the space could be transformed by their participation in it. The walk to and from the campus was about 15 mins, and best done in groups at night, as the canal area was in its early stages of redevelopment and Chester St was badly lit.  

Life in the Early Years
For those of us there in the early to mid 1980s, it was almost magical in its ordinariness. Students acted as wardens, organised events, kept an eye on one another. Rules existed, but the emphasis was on community, not judgment.

Daily life was modest: cooking, cleaning, laundry, repairing what broke. The terraces were designed to encourage chance meetings, small conversations, accidental friendships. Staff were approachable. Advice and guidance were available, quietly, without ceremony.

Aston Brook Green had a rhythm. Work and study punctuated life, but social bonds carried it along. Each year, new residents arrived and old ones left, yet the sense of continuity persisted, held together by wardens, traditions, and the expectations everyone shared. House parties, new romances, and late night study groups were all part of daily life at The Green. 

Why It Worked
The Green succeeded not because of facilities, or because it was convenient, or even because it was cheap. It succeeded because it trusted its residents, because it assumed that young adults could act responsibly if given the space.

Affordability mattered. When students were not preoccupied with paying exorbitant rent, they had capacity to engage, contribute, and create. They learned more than their courses could teach: how to live together, how to manage conflict, how to take care of each other. According to the Students’ Union, over its lifetime The Green supported around 6,750 students (about 150 residents each year) and ended up saving students millions of poundscompared with typical student rents in the area. 

For decades, it proved that student housing could be about more than profit. That a minimal, trusting system could produce safety, respect, and stability. That is worth remembering.

What Is Lost
With the handover, that model changes. Students will still live in the same buildings, but under management focused on efficiency, risk, and oversight. The ethos of self-governance, of trust and shared responsibility, will no longer be the organizing principle.

The loss is subtle, but significant. It is not just the buildings. It is a way of living together, quietly assumed, practiced over generations. It is the disappearance of a model in which students mattered as participants, not simply tenants.

Memory as Stewardship
Remembering Aston Brook Green is itself a form of society care. To recall its open spaces, its tiny kitchens, its community laundry units is to recognize that something unusual once existed. Affordable, student-led housing is possible. Community, trust, and sufficiency can coexist with study, work, and the pressures of young adulthood.

Forty-five years is a long time. The Green was not just a place to live. It was a framework for learning how to live together with intention. It nurtured generations of students. Its legacy endures, in memory and in principle, even as the keys change hands.

Does Rosemary Barton Know Where the Line Is? Journalism, Punditry, and the Authority Problem at CBC

Posted on by
Reply

In recent weeks, two moments involving Rosemary Barton have sharpened a long-simmering concern about the state of Canadian political journalism. Taken together, they invite a serious question about boundary discipline, not at the margins of commentary, but at the very centre of institutional authority. When the senior political correspondent at a public broadcaster appears uncertain about where journalism ends and punditry begins, the issue is no longer personal style. It is structural.

The most telling example came during Barton’s criticism of Mark Carney for publicly pushing back against Donald Trump. Carney’s assertion that Canadians are strong was met not with a question about strategy or consequences, but with a rebuke. Barton suggested that he should not “talk like that” while negotiations with the United States were ongoing. This was not interrogation. It was correction. The distinction matters. Journalism tests claims and identifies risks. Punditry adjudicates what ought to be said and enforces preferred norms of behaviour. In this case, the journalist stepped into the role of strategic adviser.

That intervention rested on an unstated, but powerful assumption. It treated rhetorical restraint toward the United States as the only responsible posture and framed public assertiveness as diplomatically naïve or reckless. Yet this is not a settled fact. It is a contested theory of power. For many Canadians, public expressions of confidence and sovereignty are not obstacles to negotiation, but instruments of democratic legitimacy. By presenting elite caution as self-evident realism, Barton transformed a debatable worldview into an implied journalistic standard.

This moment did not stand alone. It echoed a broader pattern in which certain political choices are framed as inherently reasonable while others are treated as violations of an unwritten rulebook. Barton’s interviews frequently embed normative assumptions inside ostensibly neutral questions. The effect is subtle, but cumulative. Political actors who align with institutional orthodoxy are invited to explain. Those who depart from it are warned, corrected, or disciplined. Over time, skepticism becomes asymmetrical, and audiences begin to sense that the field of legitimate debate is being quietly narrowed.

The problem is compounded by Barton’s position. A senior political correspondent does not merely report events. The role carries symbolic weight. It signals what seriousness looks like, what competence sounds like, and which instincts are deemed responsible. When that authority is used to police tone or enforce elite etiquette, it reads not as opinion, but as instruction. Viewers are not encountering a commentator among many. They are encountering the voice of the institution.

This is particularly consequential at a public broadcaster. CBC’s democratic legitimacy depends on its ability to distinguish clearly between explanation and advocacy. When journalists appear more concerned with managing political risk on behalf of elites than with illuminating choices for the public, trust erodes. Citizens do not feel informed. They feel managed. That erosion rarely arrives as a scandal. It accumulates through moments that feel small, instinctive, even well intentioned, yet consistently tilt in the same direction.

The Carney episode also revealed a deeper misalignment of priorities. Carney’s remarks were aimed at Canadians, not at Trump. They functioned as reassurance and civic affirmation in a moment of external pressure. Barton’s response implicitly subordinated domestic democratic speech to foreign sensibilities. That is a value judgment about whose audience matters most. It may be a defensible argument in a column. It is not a neutral premise for an interview.

None of this requires imputing bad faith or crude partisanship. The issue is not ideology so much as role confusion. Contemporary political media increasingly collapses reporting, analysis, and commentary into a single on-air persona. The incentives reward strong takes and strategic framing. Over time, journalists can begin to experience elite consensus as common sense and dissent as irresponsibility. The line does not disappear all at once. It fades.

At the senior level, however, that line must be actively maintained. Journalism asks why choices are made and what consequences follow. Punditry advises, corrects, and enforces norms. When a journalist tells a political actor what should or should not be said, the boundary has been crossed. When that crossing becomes habitual, it reshapes the institution’s relationship with the public.

The question, then, is not whether Rosemary Barton is tough enough or fair enough in any single exchange. It is whether she still recognizes the limits of her authority. A senior political correspondent is not a shadow negotiator, a risk manager, or a guardian of elite comfort. The role is to clarify politics, not to perform it.

If that distinction is lost at the top, the consequences cascade downward. Journalism becomes strategy. Explanation becomes correction. And the public broadcaster, slowly and without declaration, ceases to act as a referee and begins to play the game itself.

🗓️ Five Things We Learned This Week

Posted on by
Reply

🗞️: Jan 17–23, 2026

Date: January 24, 2026
Range: Saturday to Friday

1️⃣ 🌍 Ukraine–Russia–U.S. Talks Begin

Historic trilateral negotiations involving Ukraine, Russia, and the United States opened in Abu Dhabi, marking the first such talks since the 2022 full-scale invasion. Discussions focused on humanitarian access, territorial questions, and confidence-building measures amid continued fighting.

2️⃣ 🔬 Fusion Energy Edges Closer to Reality

Scientists reported major advances in fusion research, with tokamak projects such as ITER, EAST, and KSTAR achieving improved plasma stability and sustained reaction times. The progress has renewed optimism around fusion as a future source of clean, abundant energy.

3️⃣ 💼 Davos Signals: AI and Economic Resilience

At the World Economic Forum in Davos, IMF and ECB leaders emphasized the resilience of the global economy while warning that artificial intelligence could dramatically reshape labor markets. Calls focused on reskilling, regulation, and renewed multilateral cooperation.

4️⃣ 📡 Space & Science Momentum

NASA advanced preparations for the Artemis II crewed lunar flyby mission, while astronomers reported new findings on interstellar chemistry and planetary formation. Together, these developments highlight accelerating momentum in space science and exploration.

5️⃣ 📚 Innovation & Higher Education Shifts

Canada’s AI ecosystem saw a significant boost as research institute Mila partnered with Inovia Capital to launch a $100 million Venture Scientist Fund, aimed at bridging academic research and startup development. Universities also expanded sustainability and climate research hubs.

📌 Notable Context From the Week

  • 🌍 Nordic countries increased diplomatic and security coordination around Greenland amid rising geopolitical tensions.
  • 🧪 Scientists reported breakthroughs in quantum materials, solar physics, and potential habitability indicators on Europa.
  • 🌦️ Severe weather and infrastructure challenges continued to affect regions of South Asia and North America.

Campbeltown in Short Supply: A Pre‑Burns Night Puzzle

Posted on by
Reply

In the run‑up to Burns Night, when invitations to raise a dram in honour of Scotland’s national bard are circulating and whisky lists are being pondered, one question quietly confronts many enthusiasts: why is good single malt from Scotland, particularly from Campbeltown, so difficult to find? Historically, Campbeltown was once celebrated as the whisky‑making capital of the world, its docks loaded with casks and its distilleries numbering in the dozens. Today, that legacy has dwindled to a trio of working sites: Springbank, Glen Scotia, and Glengyle, whose combined output forms only a tiny fraction of Scotland’s total whisky production.  

The contraction of the Campbeltown region from a bustling 19th‑century centre to just three survivors underscores a broader shift in Scotch whisky’s industrial geography. Economic downturns, world wars, and changing markets saw most local distilleries close their doors; the survivors have maintained a commitment to traditional craft rather than high‑volume output. Springbank, founded in 1828 and still family‑owned, is notable for carrying out every stage of whisky production on site and for producing multiple distinct spirits from the same distillery. Glengyle’s output, marketed under the Kilkerran name to avoid confusion with another brand, remains limited by design, often amounting to small, carefully managed batches. Glen Scotia continues alongside them with a modest annual capacity, and a small range of core expressions.  

This lineage of craftsmanship contributes directly to scarcity. The distilleries’ capacity, often measured in hundreds of thousands rather than millions of litres, cannot hope to match the output of giants in Speyside or the Highlands, and the maturation process itself imposes inevitable delays. Whisky that will only reach ten, fifteen, or more years of age must be laid down long before demand becomes apparent. The result is a perennial mismatch between global appetite and available matured stocks.  

The scarcity is compounded by collector and secondary markets, which prize older bottlings and limited releases. Annual special editions or festival releases often sell out immediately and surface on secondary markets at marked‑up prices. That dynamic leaves fewer bottles for casual purchase on regular retail shelves, and for many drinkers the prospect of finding a Springbank 15 or Kilkerran 12 in a local shop feels remote. Even widely respected expressions such as Glen Scotia’s Victoriana or Double Cask appear more steadily only because their production and positioning make them easier to distribute.  

Yet the character and heritage that make these whiskies worth celebrating in the first place are inseparable from this scarcity. The maritime influence of ageing on the Kintyre peninsula, the persistence of traditional methods against industrial homogenization, and the small‑scale stewardship of family and independent producers distinguish Campbeltown malts from the bulk‑produced spirits that dominate global shelves. In a whisky world increasingly defined by scale and brand recognition, the quiet resilience of Campbeltown’s remaining distilleries serves as a reminder of the irreplaceable value of regional diversity.

Mark Carney, One Year In: From Appointment to Authority

Posted on by
Reply

When I wrote Please, Not Another Old White Male Academic just over a year ago, my concern was not personal. It was structural. Canada has a long and slightly embarrassing habit of confusing résumé gravity with political imagination. We import seriousness, assume competence, and hope charisma follows later.

Mark Carney, at that moment, looked like the distilled essence of that habit.

Former Governor of the Bank of Canada. Former Governor of the Bank of England. A man fluent in balance sheets, risk curves, and global capital flows. Almost entirely untested in the messy, adversarial, human business of electoral politics.

And yet, what followed matters.

Carney did not simply arrive in the Prime Minister’s Office as a caretaker technocrat. He won the Liberal leadership race, became Prime Minister as leader of the governing party, and then did the one thing that ultimately separates legitimacy from convenience in a parliamentary democracy.

He went to the country.

And he won.

That sequence, leadership first and electoral endorsement second, has shaped everything that followed.

From Leadership to Mandate
Leadership races create prime ministers. Elections create authority.

Carney’s leadership victory gave him the keys. The federal election that followed gave him something far more important: permission. Permission to act, to break with inherited orthodoxies, and to absorb political damage without immediately losing his footing.

This matters because much of what Carney has done in his first year would have been politically untenable without a fresh mandate.

Ending the consumer carbon pricing regime, for example, was not a technocratic adjustment. It was a cultural intervention in a debate that had become symbolic rather than functional. That decision would have been framed as betrayal had it come from an unelected interim leader. Coming from a Prime Minister who had just won an election, it landed differently.

Not quietly. Not universally. But legitimately.

The First Act: Clearing the Political Air
Within weeks of taking office following the election, Carney’s government dismantled the consumer-facing carbon tax. He did not do so by denying climate change or disavowing past commitments. He did it by acknowledging an uncomfortable truth: the policy had stopped working politically, and therefore had stopped working at all.

Carbon pricing had become a proxy war for identity, region, and class. Carney chose to remove it from the centre of the national argument, not because it was elegant, but because it was paralysing.

Shortly thereafter came the One Canadian Economy Act, a legislative attempt to dismantle internal trade barriers and accelerate nationally significant infrastructure by streamlining regulatory approvals. Supporters called it overdue modernization. Critics warned of environmental dilution and federal overreach.

Both readings were accurate.

What distinguished this moment was not the policy itself, but the confidence behind it. Carney was governing like a man who believed the election had granted him room to manoeuvre.

Trade Policy and the Post-Deference Canada
The same pattern appeared in foreign and trade policy.

The tariff reset with China, including reduced duties on electric vehicles and reciprocal relief for Canadian agricultural exports, signaled a meaningful shift. Canada under Carney is less deferential, less reactive, and more openly strategic.

This was not an abandonment of allies. It was an acknowledgment of vulnerability.

Carney understands that Canada’s economic exposure to U.S. political volatility is no longer theoretical. Trade diversification, even when uncomfortable, has become a national security issue. That logic is straight out of central banking, but it now animates Canadian diplomacy.

Again, this is where the election mattered. A Prime Minister who had just won a national contest could afford to irritate orthodoxies that an unelected leader could not.

Climate Policy Without Rituals
Perhaps the most jarring shift for longtime observers has been Carney’s approach to climate.

This is a man who helped embed climate risk into global financial systems. His retreat from consumer-facing climate rituals has therefore confused many who expected moral consistency rather than strategic recalibration.

But Carney is not governing as an activist. He is governing as a systems thinker.

Industrial emissions, supply chains, energy infrastructure, and capital allocation matter more than behavioural nudges. He appears willing to trade rhetorical clarity for structural leverage, even at the cost of alienating parts of the environmental movement.

His cautious thaw with Alberta, including openness to regulatory reform and transitional infrastructure, reflects this same calculus. Climate transition, in Carney’s view, cannot be imposed against the grain of the federation. It must be engineered through it.

That is not inspiring. It may be effective.

Domestic Governance: Quiet by Design
Domestically, Carney’s first year has been notably untheatrical.

There have been targeted tax changes, a more disciplined capital budgeting framework, industrial protections in politically sensitive sectors, and modest expansions of labour-linked social supports. None of this screams transformation.

That restraint is intentional.

Carney governs like a man who believes volatility is the enemy. He does not seek to dominate the news cycle. He seeks to stabilize the operating environment. For supporters craving vision and opponents hunting scandal, this has been unsatisfying.

For a country exhausted by performative politics, it may be precisely the point.

Switzerland, the G7, and a Doctrine Emerges
Carney’s remarks in Switzerland this week and Canada’s hosting of the G7 crystallized what has been quietly forming all year.

Canada now has a governing doctrine.

It assumes a fragmented world. It rejects nostalgia for a rules-based order that no longer functions as advertised. It prioritizes resilience, diversification, and coordination among middle powers.

This is not moral leadership. It is strategic adulthood.

And again, it is enabled by the fact that Carney is not merely a party leader elevated by caucus arithmetic. He is a Prime Minister endorsed by voters, however imperfectly and however provisionally.

What I Got Wrong, and What Still Worries Me
I was wrong to assume Mark Carney would be inert.

But I remain uncertain that technocratic competence alone can sustain democratic consent. Systems thinkers often underestimate the emotional dimensions of legitimacy. Elections grant authority once. Narratives sustain it over time.

Carney has the former. He is still building the latter.

A year in, it is clear that he is not another placeholder academic passing through politics. He is attempting something more difficult and more dangerous: governing Canada as it actually exists, not as it nostalgically imagines itself to be.

Whether that earns him longevity will depend less on markets or multilateral forums, and more on whether Canadians come to see themselves reflected in his project.

Competence opened the door.
Winning the leadership gave him power.
Winning the election gave him permission.

What he does with that permission is the real story now.

Pathways to a More Integrated European Military and Strategic Re-engagement

Posted on by
Reply

Introduction

Europe’s future military relevance depends on striking a balance between national sovereignty and collective security. While full political federation remains politically improbable, incremental integration offers a viable path to strengthen Europe’s defense posture. Effective integration must also consider re-engaging the United Kingdom, whose strategic absence following Brexit reduces cohesion. This essay examines practical pathways for military integration, governance innovations, and partnership strategies that preserve inclusivity while enhancing Europe’s security capabilities.

Gradual Military Integration

Incremental integration provides the most feasible path forward. By focusing on joint capabilities and pooled resources, Europe can enhance strategic autonomy without necessitating full federation.

  1. Expanded PESCO and European Defence Fund (EDF): Consolidating funding for strategic platforms—main battle tanks, next-generation fighter aircraft, missile defense, and unmanned systems—can reduce duplication and maximize efficiency. Shared R&D initiatives accelerate innovation in high-tech areas such as AI-enabled warfare, hypersonic weapons, and satellite reconnaissance.
  2. Transnational specialized units: Joint brigades or task forces could focus on cyber defense, intelligence, and rapid deployment. For example, a Franco-German cyber unit or a multinational EU rapid-reaction battalion could be deployed under a joint European command while maintaining national administrative oversight.
  3. Shared logistics and infrastructure: Pooling airlift, naval bases, ammunition depots, and maintenance facilities can enhance operational readiness and reduce costs. Centralized planning for strategic assets, such as long-range transport aircraft or naval logistics hubs, allows smaller states to participate meaningfully without sacrificing sovereignty.

Strategic Governance Models

Integration must respect political diversity while ensuring efficiency. Innovative governance approaches can maintain inclusivity:

  • Rotating command councils: Leadership of multinational units or strategic planning bodies rotates among member states, balancing influence and fostering trust.
  • Qualified majority decision-making: Military interventions could use weighted voting rather than unanimous consent, preventing strategic paralysis while giving smaller states meaningful participation in non-critical matters.
  • European defense planning hubs: Centralized entities for intelligence, strategic forecasting, and doctrine development would coordinate multinational exercises, procurement, and force deployment, streamlining operations while leaving operational execution to national units.

These mechanisms allow Europe to project strength collectively without requiring full political or fiscal federation, minimizing resistance from states wary of losing sovereignty.

Re-engaging the United Kingdom

The UK’s post-Brexit absence reduces Europe’s military cohesion and technological capacity. Strategic re-engagement could include:

  1. Flexible partnership agreements: The UK could participate in European defense projects without full EU membership, akin to Norway or Switzerland’s arrangement in EU programs, allowing it to contribute to R&D, joint exercises, and strategic planning.
  2. Joint technology initiatives: Collaborative development of high-tech platforms—such as unmanned systems, hypersonic weapons, and satellite constellations—leverages complementary capabilities and reinforces mutual strategic interests.
  3. Security dialogue forums: Regular consultations on emerging threats—cybersecurity, Arctic security, and hybrid warfare—would institutionalize cooperation and strengthen trust between the EU and the UK.

This approach recognizes post-Brexit political realities while leveraging the UK’s capabilities for collective security.

Leveraging Economic and Technological Strength

Europe’s economic power allows it to compensate for political fragmentation through technological specialization:

  • Cyber dominance: Coordinated intelligence sharing and defensive measures mitigate hybrid threats.
  • Space-based capabilities: European satellite constellations provide secure communications, reconnaissance, and navigation independent of foreign systems.
  • Autonomous and high-tech weapons systems: Automation reduces reliance on manpower, addressing demographic constraints across aging European populations.
  • Defense industrial consolidation: Shared investment in defense industries ensures competitive capabilities while preserving domestic employment and technological sovereignty.

These strategies enable Europe to punch above its weight in strategic terms while avoiding the political complexity of full federation.

Conclusion

Europe can strengthen its military and strategic posture without full federation by pursuing incremental, inclusive, and technologically driven integration. Pooled capabilities, innovative governance structures, and strategic partnerships—including with the UK—balance sovereignty with collective security. By 2040, such an approach positions Europe as a credible regional and global actor, capable of addressing regional crises, contributing meaningfully to global stability, and gradually increasing strategic autonomy. Incremental integration, rather than federation, thus represents a pragmatic and politically feasible pathway to European military relevance.

Five Hundred Posts

Posted on by
1

This is the 500th post on Rowanwood Chronicles, and I want to pause for a moment rather than rush past the number.

Five hundred posts means months of thinking in public. It means essays written early in the morning with coffee going cold, notes drafted in train stations and kitchens, arguments refined and re-refined, and ideas that only became clear because I was willing to write them out imperfectly first. It means following threads of geopolitics, technology, culture, relationships, power, science fiction, and lived experience wherever they led, even when they led somewhere uncomfortable or unfashionable.

This blog was never intended to be a brand or a platform. It has always been a workshop. A place to test ideas, to connect dots, to push back against lazy thinking, and to explore what it means to live ethically and deliberately in a complicated world. Some posts have aged well. Others mark exactly where my thinking was at the time, and I am content to leave them there as signposts rather than monuments.

What has surprised me most over these five hundred posts is not how much I have written, but how much I have learned from the responses, private messages, disagreements, and quiet readers who later surfaced to say, “That piece helped me name something.” Writing in public creates a strange kind of community, one built less on agreement than on shared curiosity.

To those who have been reading since the early days, thank you for staying. To those who arrived last week, welcome. To those who argue with me in good faith, you have sharpened my thinking more than you know. And to those who read quietly without ever commenting, you are still part of this.

I have no intention of slowing down. There are still too many systems to interrogate, futures to imagine, and human stories worth telling. Five hundred posts in, Rowanwood Chronicles remains what it has always been: a place to think carefully, write honestly, and refuse simple answers.

Onward.

The Loyalist Paradox: Canada, Conservatives, and the Question of Nation

Posted on by
Reply

In the unfolding geopolitical drama of the early 2020s, Canadians have found themselves wrestling with a deep and persistent question: what does it mean to be loyal to Canada? To what extent does loyalty bind us to our values, our institutions, and our sovereignty – particularly when the world’s sole superpower stands at our doorstep with both trade leverage and military might?

This question has never been more acute than in the political struggles surrounding the Conservative Party of Canada (CPC) and its relationship with Canadian identity.

The Political Landscape – A Crossroads of Loyalty and Identity
Recent polling has shown that Canadians overwhelmingly believe in protecting and promoting a distinct Canadian identity. Fully 91 percent of respondents say it’s important to protect Canada’s culture and identity, particularly vis-à-vis the influence of the United States. Canadian stories, language, and cultural autonomy matter deeply to the electorate. A similar share also insists the national creative sector should be actively supported as a means of preserving this identity.  

Yet, even with this firm sense of national self-definition, the Conservative Party struggles to align itself with these sentiments in a way that resonates broadly outside its core base. National polls show the Liberals under Mark Carney consistently leading or tied with the Conservatives, and importantly, Canadians trust Carney more than Conservative leader Pierre Poilievre to manage Canada–U.S. relations and economic sovereignty issues like tariffs.  

In the context of rising public skepticism about American intentions and influence, this is no small matter. A recent global polling story highlighted dramatically worsening views of the United States among Canadians, with distrust of U.S. economic policy and fears about sovereignty now outpacing favourability.  

The Conservative Identity Challenge
The CPC’s dilemma is systemic and layered. On one hand, it portrays itself as staunchly nationalistic and protective of Canadian freedom – championing economic independence, smaller government, and opposition to what it frames as overreach by federal elites. Official party surveys and promotional material heavily emphasise “Canada first” language and attack policies of political opponents as un-Canadian.  

On the other hand, broader national polling suggests a paradox: supporters of the CPC are more likely than others to distrust national institutions, such as electoral outcomes – with only 44 percent of Conservative voters expressing confidence in election results, compared with much higher trust among Liberal voters.  

Here we find the heart of a fissure: many Conservative voters affirm a version of Canada that rejects established institutions and narratives – yet this rejection can look less like loyalty to Canada and more like resentment toward perceived elite power structures. It’s a version of loyalty that is conditional and oppositional rather than unifying.

Moreover, recent polling data has shown that a substantial portion of Canadians – including those outside the CPC base – see the party as indistinguishable from its previous configurations, suggesting it struggles to redefine itself as a uniquely Canadian force rather than a continuation of old alliances.  

The Cultural Divide Within Canadian Conservatism
Part of the CPC problem lies in how loyalty is framed internally versus how it is perceived externally. Within the party, messaging frequently leans on cultural grievances and critiques of “woke orthodoxy,” federal deficits, or immigration policy, rather than building a positive vision of nationhood that embraces the multicultural, bilingual, and globally engaged Canada most Canadians cherish.  

For voters outside the core base – notably in Quebec and among women – this framing can feel alienating. Polling shows the CPC has struggled to gain traction in Quebec, where its support has often remained well below national averages.   Conservative messaging themes that work in parts of Alberta or the Prairies – economic libertarianism or cultural backlash – do not translate easily into a unifying vision of what it means to be Canadian in a diverse and interconnected country.

Loyalty to Canada vs. Loyalty to a Movement
This sets up a crucial distinction: Is the CPC loyal to Canada as an ideal and as a state, or is it loyal to a particular movement that sees Canada through the lens of grievance politics?

Among many Canadians, loyalty to the nation is less about opposition and more about protection and stewardship of the Canadian project. This includes safeguarding institutions, promoting cultural sovereignty, navigating global power dynamics with nuance, and articulating a sense of shared belonging. That broader, more inclusive sense of national loyalty appears more readily embodied by leaders seen as centrist or unifying – such as Carney in recent polls – than by those perceived as divisive or reactive.  

The Conservative Paradox of Canadian Belonging
The CPC today stands at a historic crossroads: it must reconcile its internal identity and base-motivated framing with a broader, more inclusive conception of Canadian loyalty and citizenship. To succeed nationally, the party will need to articulate a vision of Canada that brings together sovereignty, dignity, diversity, and institutional trust – rather than simply opposing the incumbent government or elite institutions.

In the end, the challenge of the CPC is not a lack of patriotism among its members, but rather a fractured conception of what Canadian loyalty means in an era of global tension and domestic diversity – a tension that mirrors the very paradox Canadians are wrestling with: Can one be loyal to Canada while also questioning its structures? The answer will define not just the future of a political party, but the future of Canadian national identity itself.

Europe 2040 – Military Power Without Full Federation

Posted on by
Reply

Introduction
By 2040, Europe remains a politically and militarily fragmented continent. Despite holding one of the largest combined economies globally, the lack of a fully federated European model constrains its ability to project independent military power. While selective nations—France, Germany, and the United Kingdom—maintain significant capabilities, structural fragmentation, divergent national priorities, and complex governance systems limit Europe’s strategic autonomy. This essay examines the interplay of structural, economic, and political factors that define Europe’s military posture in 2040, assessing both its achievements and persistent limitations.

Fragmented Military Capabilities
Europe’s military architecture remains characterized by a multiplicity of national forces operating independently. France continues to maintain its nuclear triad and expeditionary capability, Germany fields technologically advanced armored and air units, and Italy projects regional influence in the Mediterranean. Other nations, such as Poland, Sweden, and Spain, contribute niche capabilities, particularly in cyber operations, rapid reaction forces, and intelligence. Smaller states provide specialized units, maritime patrol, or logistics support, creating a patchwork network of competencies rather than a unified force.

Coordination among these forces relies heavily on NATO and EU initiatives, such as PESCO and the European Defence Fund. While these programs enable some joint projects—like the Franco-German Main Ground Combat System or European satellite constellations—they remain voluntary, unevenly funded, and constrained by national political approval processes. Interoperability challenges persist. Differences in equipment, standards, and doctrines limit joint deployments, and multinational exercises rarely achieve the cohesion seen in fully unified forces like the U.S. military. Duplication of expensive programs—such as fifth-generation fighter jets, armored vehicles, and naval platforms—absorbs resources that could otherwise be used for operational readiness or strategic reach.

Reliance on Alliances
By 2040, Europe’s military security remains deeply intertwined with NATO, and by extension, the United States. U.S. nuclear and conventional capabilities continue to provide the ultimate deterrent, filling the strategic gaps that fragmented European forces cannot address independently. Europe has developed limited rapid-reaction forces, capable of responding to crises in Eastern Europe or North Africa. Yet sustained expeditionary operations beyond the continent’s periphery remain rare, and the logistical complexity of multinational operations constrains Europe’s ability to project power unilaterally.

The reliance on alliances introduces both opportunities and vulnerabilities. While NATO provides shared capabilities, it reinforces a strategic dependence that limits Europe’s ability to act independently, particularly in regions where U.S. interests diverge from European priorities. Additionally, coordination across multiple nations slows decision-making, delaying responses in rapidly evolving crises.

Political and Social Constraints
Europe’s military fragmentation reflects deep-seated political and social realities. National governments prioritize sovereignty, historical sensitivities, and domestic public opinion over centralized military integration. France maintains a strong independent nuclear posture, but attempts to build multinational European forces are constrained by reluctance among smaller states to cede influence. Germany, constrained by post-World War II norms and public skepticism about military engagements, limits its willingness to commit forces beyond NATO obligations. Smaller EU nations often prefer reliance on U.S. security guarantees rather than costly investments in expeditionary capabilities.

Demographic trends exacerbate these challenges. Aging populations across much of Western Europe reduce the pool of active-duty personnel, forcing militaries to rely increasingly on technology, automation, and private contractors. Recruitment shortfalls in countries like Italy, Spain, and Greece create gaps in capability, while wealthier states such as France and Germany struggle to integrate conscript-aged populations into modern, technologically advanced forces. Social constraints—such as skepticism about European military engagement—also influence political willingness to commit forces to conflicts outside Europe.

Technological and Strategic Achievements
Despite structural limitations, Europe in 2040 has achieved selective strategic successes. Investments in high-tech military domains—cyber defense, satellite-based intelligence, precision-guided long-range weapons, and autonomous systems—allow certain nations to exert disproportionate influence relative to conventional troop numbers. French and German space-based reconnaissance and missile capabilities, for example, provide leverage in regional security operations, particularly in Africa and Eastern Europe. Similarly, European cyber defense networks, though fragmented, are capable of coordinated responses to hybrid threats and disinformation campaigns.

Regional interventions have become more effective through voluntary coalition formations. French-led operations in North Africa and combined European deployments in Eastern Europe demonstrate the potential of pooled capabilities, even in the absence of federalized command structures. Nevertheless, these interventions remain short-term and limited in scale, reflecting political caution and resource constraints.

Europe in 2040 demonstrates the limits of military power without political federation. While individual nations retain significant capabilities, and regional coalition efforts allow for selective influence, fragmentation, political caution, and logistical inefficiency prevent Europe from achieving true global strategic autonomy. Economic wealth and technological sophistication partially offset these limitations, but Europe remains a secondary global military actor, capable of defending its interests and projecting influence regionally, but dependent on alliances for comprehensive global security. The trajectory suggests that without deeper political and military integration, Europe will remain influential but constrained, unable to rival the global reach of the United States or China.

Community Wealth Building and the Reassertion of Local Economic Power

Posted on by
Reply

Scotland’s proposed Community Wealth Building legislation should be read not as a technical reform of local government practice, but as a quiet intervention in the geopolitical and economic settlement that has shaped the North Atlantic world since the late twentieth century. It arrives at a moment when assumptions about globalisation, capital mobility, and the neutrality of markets are being reassessed across Europe and beyond. In this context, the Bill represents an attempt to recover economic agency at the level of the state and the community without retreating into protectionism or nostalgia.

For several decades, economic development across the United Kingdom and much of the West followed a broadly convergent logic. Growth was expected to flow from attracting external capital, integrating into global supply chains, and minimising friction for mobile firms. Local institutions were repositioned as facilitators rather than shapers of economic life. The consequences of this model are now widely acknowledged: hollowed-out local economies, fragile supply chains, stagnant wages, and deepening territorial inequality. Community Wealth Building emerges as a response to this structural failure, not as a rejection of markets, but as a refusal to treat them as self-justifying.

The Scottish Bill formalises this response by embedding Community Wealth Building into the routine machinery of governance. It does so through process rather than command. Ministers would be required to articulate a national strategy, while local authorities and designated public bodies would be tasked with producing coordinated action plans. This architecture reflects an understanding that economic power is already widely distributed across public institutions, but rarely aligned. Procurement, employment, land management, and investment decisions are typically made in isolation. The legislation seeks to bring these decisions into a shared strategic frame.

The Five Pillars as Instruments of Sovereignty

At the centre of this frame are the five pillars of Community Wealth Building: spending, workforce, land and property, inclusive ownership, and finance. These pillars correspond directly to the points at which wealth either embeds itself locally or leaks outward. Public spending can anchor local supply chains or reinforce distant monopolies. Employment can stabilise communities or entrench precarity. Land can function as a productive commons or a speculative asset. Ownership can concentrate power or distribute it. Finance can circulate locally or exit at the first sign of volatility.

The Bill’s significance lies in treating these domains not as discrete policy areas, but as interdependent levers of economic sovereignty. This is a departure from the fragmented governance model that characterised late neoliberal public administration, in which efficiency was prized over coherence and coordination.

The Preston Model as Proof of Concept

This approach has a clear and often-cited precedent in the Preston Model developed in Lancashire. Following the collapse of a major inward investment project, Preston City Council and a group of anchor institutions reoriented their procurement and economic strategy toward local suppliers and inclusive ownership models. By coordinating spending decisions and nurturing local capacity, Preston demonstrated that local economies retain more agency than is commonly assumed.

The results were incremental rather than transformative, but they were measurable and durable. Procurement spend retained within the local and regional economy increased substantially, job quality improved, and confidence in local economic stewardship was restored. The lesson of Preston was not ideological but institutional: resilience is often built through aligned, routine decisions rather than grand economic interventions.

From Voluntary Practice to Statutory Expectation

Scotland’s proposed legislation draws on this experience while addressing one of its principal limitations. The Preston Model depended heavily on political continuity and local leadership. By placing Community Wealth Building on a statutory footing, the Scottish Government seeks to ensure durability beyond electoral cycles. This reflects a broader European trend toward embedding economic governance within legal and institutional frameworks rather than relying on discretion and goodwill.

In this respect, the Bill aligns more closely with continental traditions of social market governance than with the United Kingdom’s recent reliance on deregulated competition and capital mobility. It represents a subtle but meaningful shift in how economic legitimacy is constructed.

Geopolitics, Resilience, and Strategic Autonomy

The geopolitical implications of this shift should not be underestimated. In an era defined by fractured supply chains, sanctions regimes, and strategic competition, economic resilience has become inseparable from national and regional security. Shorter supply chains, diversified ownership, and locally rooted finance reduce exposure to external shocks. Community Wealth Building thus complements wider debates about strategic autonomy unfolding across Europe and among middle powers navigating an increasingly unstable global order.

Although sub-state in form, Scotland’s legislation participates in this reorientation by strengthening the internal foundations of economic resilience. It does not promise insulation from global forces, but it does offer a means of engagement that is less extractive and more adaptive.

Cultural Memory and Economic Stewardship

Culturally, the Bill resonates with long-standing Scottish debates over land, ownership, and democratic control. From land reform movements to community buyouts, there exists a deep political memory of extraction and dispossession. Community Wealth Building translates these concerns into contemporary administrative language. It offers a way to address structural imbalance without framing the issue as a moral repudiation of global capitalism.

Instead, the economy is treated as a system that can be shaped through institutional design and stewardship. This framing avoids both nostalgia and utopianism, positioning reform as a matter of governance rather than ideology.

A Quiet Recalibration

Critics argue that the legislation lacks enforcement mechanisms and risks becoming aspirational. Such critiques assume that economic change only follows dramatic intervention. Historical experience suggests otherwise. Durable change more often arises from the cumulative effect of aligned institutions acting consistently over time. By normalising local economic stewardship across public bodies, the Bill establishes the conditions for gradual but compounding transformation.

Seen in this light, Scotland’s Community Wealth Building law forms part of a broader recalibration underway across the Western political economy. It signals a move away from the assumption that prosperity must be imported, and toward the idea that it can be cultivated. In a period marked by uncertainty and realignment, this modest ambition may prove to be its most consequential feature.

Sources