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.

Britain’s Return to Europe: A Vision Rooted in Purpose, Not Nostalgia

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Across the United Kingdom, a quiet reckoning is underway. Eight years after the Brexit referendum, the promise of a bold new chapter outside the European Union lies in tatters. Instead of renewed sovereignty and global resurgence, the country finds itself diminished: economically weaker, diplomatically isolated, and socially fragmented. For many, it is no longer a question of whether we should rejoin the EU, but how, and when.

Yet to speak of rejoining is to confront difficult truths. The journey back will not be quick. It will demand political leadership, public engagement, and diplomatic humility. But for a nation with Britain’s history, talents, and spirit, the path, though long, is both viable and vital. What lies at the end of that path is not simply a restoration of past privileges, but a reclaiming of our rightful place among Europe’s community of nations.

The first step must be political courage. While public opinion is shifting, particularly among younger generations and those long unconvinced by the false dawn of Brexit, the political establishment remains hesitant. The shadow of the 2016 referendum still looms large. Yet true leadership does not bow to ghosts; it charts a course forward. A future government must be willing to speak frankly to the British people: about the costs of Brexit, about the realities of international cooperation, and about the immense benefits of restoring our partnership with Europe.

Equally crucial is the task of restoring trust, both at home and abroad. The manner in which the UK left the EU, marked by bluster and broken commitments, left scars in Brussels and beyond. If Britain is to re-enter the fold, it must do so not as a reluctant exception-seeker, but as a committed and respectful partner. There can be no return to the days of opt-outs and special deals. We must approach accession not with entitlement, but with earnest intent, ready to meet the responsibilities of membership and contribute fully to the shared European project.

Legally and procedurally, rejoining would require a formal application under Article 49 of the Treaty on European Union. This would involve, in principle, a willingness to engage with all facets of membership, including the euro and Schengen, even if transitional arrangements are negotiated. There can be no illusions of a “lite” version of membership. The EU today is not the same bloc we left, it is more integrated, more self-assured. Britain must return on terms of mutual respect, not exception.

But if the process is demanding, the rewards are profound. Economically, the toll of Brexit is undeniable. The Office for Budget Responsibility estimates a 4% permanent reduction in GDP, an astonishing figure that translates into stagnating wages, struggling businesses, and faltering public services. Rejoining the Single Market would ease the friction that now stifles trade; full membership would restore investor confidence, supply chain resilience, and long-term economic momentum.

The argument is not merely about pounds and pence. On the world stage, Britain has not become more powerful post-Brexit, it has become peripheral. While we remain a respected military ally through NATO, our absence from the EU’s decision-making tables has cost us influence on climate policy, digital regulation, and global standards. In an era defined by democratic backsliding and geopolitical rivalry, our values: openness, rule of law, multilateralism, are best defended as part of a European alliance, not apart from it.

There is also a human dimension to this story, one often lost in policy debates. Brexit severed the everyday connections that bound us to our neighbours: the right to study in Paris, to work in Berlin, to fall in love in Lisbon without visas or barriers. Young Britons have had opportunities stripped from them. Scientists and artists find collaboration curtailed. Rejoining is not just an economic necessity, it is a moral obligation to restore the freedoms our citizens once took for granted.

And we cannot overlook the unity of the United Kingdom itself. Brexit has aggravated constitutional fault lines. Scotland and Northern Ireland voted to remain. The subsequent fallout, particularly around the Northern Ireland Protocol, has exposed the fragility of our Union. A return to the EU would not solve every issue, but it would provide a stable framework in which our nations might rediscover common cause, rather than drift further apart.

This journey will take time. It may begin with small, confident steps: rejoining Erasmus, aligning regulatory frameworks, re-entering common programmes. But these must be steps along a clearly signposted road, not gestures to nowhere. The destination, full EU membership, must be embraced not as a retreat to the past, but as a leap toward the future.

Britain belongs in Europe. Not just because of shared geography, but because of shared values: democracy, dignity, justice, and peace. We left on the back of a broken promise. We can return with purpose. And when we do, it will not be as the Britain that left, but as a Britain renewed, ready to lead once more, not from the sidelines, but from the heart of Europe.

The Quiet Consolidation: Transport Canada’s Aviation Wing Joins the Defence Orbit

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Senior observers of federal policy have learned to watch the quiet moves more closely than the loud ones. Ottawa’s latest decision to transfer most of Transport Canada’s aviation wing to the Department of National Defence fits squarely into that category: a major structural shift delivered with minimal explanation and even less narrative.

Coming only months after the Coast Guard’s administrative move under Defence, a transition this blog has previously analyzed, the pattern is no longer subtle. Civilian capabilities once overseen by departments with regulatory and service-delivery mandates are migrating toward a defence-centered organizational model. The government insists nothing fundamental is changing. The missions remain civilian. The uniforms remain the same. The aircraft will keep flying the same routes.

Canada’s Coast Guard Joins the Defence Team: Integration or Quiet Militarization?

But the context is unmistakable.

Canada is racing to meet NATO’s two percent spending guideline. Billions have been committed. Procurement pipelines have been expanded, and in an era where dual-use assets dominate the security landscape, consolidating aviation and maritime surveillance under Defence is not just operationally convenient. It is strategically elegant.

These Transport Canada aircraft conduct coastal surveillance, monitor pollution, support fisheries and environmental enforcement, and perform specialized logistical roles across government. Under National Defence, they become part of a broader security framework: one that blends environmental, regulatory, and maritime domain awareness with Arctic vigilance and intelligence-adjacent observation. None of this turns civilian missions into military ones. But it places them within a different gravitational field.

The concern, as always, is not the formal announcement. It is the silence around it. Ottawa has offered few details on what assets are being transferred, how missions will be prioritized, or what this means for agencies whose mandates depend on independent civilian oversight. When structural shifts of this scale are presented as routine administrative housekeeping, public trust erodes at the edges.

Canada is not drifting toward militarization. But it is consolidating the tools of national capability: vessels, aircraft, surveillance platforms, under a department whose priorities are shaped by global threat assessments rather than regulatory logic. That may be prudent. It may even be overdue. Yet the public deserves to hear the story rather than infer it.

One move can be dismissed. Two can be explained away. But when both the Coast Guard and Transport Canada’s aviation wing are drawn into the same orbit within a single year, Canadians are owed clarity about the strategic direction of their state.

Silence is not neutrality. It is a choice. And it is time for Ottawa to speak plainly about the one it has just made.

Alberta, Natural Resources, and the Challenge of Federal Cohesion

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I am starting a series of articles on Canada, its provinces, territories and confederation for the purpose of exploring a vision for the future. Let’s begin at the currently obvious place – Alberta. 

Alberta’s economic model is deeply tied to its resource wealth, particularly oil and gas, and its assertive stance on resource control has generated ongoing tensions with federal environmental and regulatory policy. While constitutionally grounded in provincial ownership rights, Alberta’s insistence on autonomy often clashes with the cooperative principles necessary in a federal system. This commentary explores the roots of this conflict and offers pathways toward a more collaborative and constructive intergovernmental relationship.

Constitutional Foundations and Ownership of Resources
Section 92A of the Constitution Act, 1982 affirms that Canadian provinces have the exclusive right to manage and develop their natural resources. Alberta has used this authority to shape its energy policy and economic strategy, which remain heavily reliant on oil and gas extraction.

However, under Section 91 of the Constitution Act, 1867, the federal government retains authority over matters of national and international trade, environmental protection, and interprovincial infrastructure. These overlapping jurisdictions mean that large-scale energy projects—such as pipelines—often require federal approval and regulation, leading to friction between provincial ambitions and federal oversight.

Fiscal Federalism and Perceived Inequities
Alberta’s role as a “have” province in the equalization system has been a long-standing source of grievance. Despite experiencing downturns in the oil economy, Alberta does not receive equalization payments due to the formula used to calculate fiscal capacity. While the system aims to ensure reasonably comparable levels of public services across Canada, many Albertans view it as a redistribution mechanism that penalizes economic productivity without adequately rewarding provincial contributions to national prosperity.

This sentiment is often exacerbated during periods of Liberal federal governance, when policies such as carbon pricing, environmental assessment reform (e.g., Bill C-69), and energy transport restrictions (e.g., Bill C-48) are interpreted as barriers to Alberta’s growth and autonomy.

The Political Psychology of Alienation
Alberta’s frustration with Ottawa is not merely legal or economic—it is cultural and emotional. The legacy of the National Energy Program (1980), perceived as a federal overreach into Alberta’s economy, continues to shape provincial attitudes. There is a widespread belief among many Albertans that their priorities are undervalued in national discourse, while their economic output is taken for granted.

This sense of alienation is particularly pronounced during Liberal governments, which are often associated with centralized governance, regulatory oversight, and climate policy that is seen as antagonistic to Alberta’s resource sector.

The Dilemma of Reciprocity
Despite its demand for autonomy, Alberta remains deeply integrated with the rest of Canada. It benefits from internal migration, national infrastructure, federal investment, and shared services. However, when national unity requires compromise, such as in building pipelines through BC or adhering to environmental targets, Alberta often adopts a defensive posture.

This tension between autonomy and interdependence is the core dilemma of Canadian federalism. While the provinces retain control over resources, their development impacts climate goals, international trade obligations, and national economic stability, issues that fall under federal jurisdiction.

Recommendations for Constructive Engagement
To resolve these tensions and restore national cohesion, both Alberta and the federal government must reconsider their approaches:

For the federal government:
• Strengthen regional engagement: Appoint trusted regional representatives to act as intermediaries between Alberta and federal departments.
• Clarify jurisdictional boundaries: Work collaboratively to define areas where federal environmental goals can be met without impeding provincial development.
• Modernize equalization: Review and revise the equalization formula to ensure transparency and responsiveness to changing economic realities.

For Alberta:
• Acknowledge interdependence: Embrace the reality that long-term prosperity requires cooperation, not confrontation.
• Diversify the economy: Invest in emerging sectors like hydrogen, critical minerals, and clean technology to reduce economic vulnerability.
• Engage Indigenous leadership: Collaborate meaningfully with Indigenous governments who hold treaty rights and are key to sustainable development.

Alberta’s assertiveness over resource development is constitutionally grounded, but politically volatile. The success of Canadian federalism depends not on uniformity, but on mutual respect and intergovernmental cooperation. Both sides must move beyond grievance-based politics toward a pragmatic and future-focused partnership that serves both regional needs and national interests.

Drawing the Lines of Power: Why the United States Needs an Independent Redistricting Commission

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Every ten years, Americans count themselves, and then politicians carve the nation into pieces. In theory, these lines are the skeleton of democracy, each district meant to represent a roughly equal share of the people’s voice. In practice, however, the scalpel is often in partisan hands, and the result looks less like democracy and more like a game of political cartography gone rogue.

A System That Rewards Its Own Abuse
The U.S. Constitution leaves redistricting to the states, with Congress retaining the right to regulate the process. Yet for more than two centuries, Congress has chosen not to exercise that right in any meaningful way. The result is a patchwork of state systems, most of them controlled by whichever political party happens to dominate the local legislature.

Both parties have used this power when it suits them, but in the modern era, sophisticated mapping software and microtargeted data have turned gerrymandering into a science. Districts now snake through neighborhoods like drunken serpents, connecting voters who share little except their predicted loyalty. In some states, the shape of the line, not the will of the people, determines who governs.

When the Supreme Court in Rucho v. Common Cause (2019) declared that partisan gerrymandering was a “political question” beyond its reach, it effectively shut the courthouse doors to citizens seeking fair maps. The message was clear: if Americans want integrity in their elections, they must legislate it themselves.

What an Independent Commission Could Offer
Other democracies long ago recognized that fairness cannot coexist with self-interest. Canada, the United Kingdom, and Australia entrust their electoral maps to independent, arms-length commissions. These agencies are staffed by nonpartisan experts; demographers, judges, geographers who follow clear criteria: compactness, respect for communities of interest, equal population, and transparency. Public hearings and judicial oversight ensure that citizens, not party operatives, shape their representation.

The results speak for themselves. Voter confidence in the fairness of elections in these countries consistently exceeds 80 percent, while American confidence has hovered around 50 percent in recent years. In Canada, where each province’s independent boundary commission reviews the map after every census, electoral boundaries are rarely the subject of scandal or court challenge. People may disagree on policy, but they do not argue about the legitimacy of their ridings.

The Case for a Federal Solution
The United States could adopt such a system tomorrow. The Elections Clause grants Congress the authority to “make or alter” state regulations governing federal elections. A single piece of federal legislation could establish an Independent Federal Redistricting Commission – a transparent body tasked with drawing all congressional districts using uniform national standards.

Such a commission would:
• End partisan manipulation by removing politicians from the mapping process.
• Increase public trust by making all deliberations open and evidence-based.
• Strengthen democracy by ensuring that voters choose their representatives, not the other way around.
• Stabilize governance by reducing the incentives for extreme partisanship, which flourish in safely gerrymandered districts.

Imagine a Congress in which every member must appeal to a truly representative cross-section of their district; urban and rural, conservative and progressive, wealthy and working-class. The tone of national politics would shift overnight. Legislators would need to persuade rather than posture. Compromise, that most endangered of political virtues, might even make a comeback.

What Stands in the Way
The only obstacle is political will. The party that benefits from the map has no incentive to surrender control of the pen. Both have been guilty at various times, though the imbalance today tilts heavily toward Republican-controlled legislatures that have perfected the art of map manipulation. The proposed For the People Act and Freedom to Vote Act, which would have mandated independent commissions for all congressional districts were blocked in the Senate, not because they were unconstitutional, but because they were inconvenient.

This is the real scandal: that a fix so obvious and achievable is continually thwarted by those who fear fair competition. Gerrymandering is not a feature of democracy; it is a form of quiet electoral theft.

The Moral Argument
Democracy, if it means anything, means that each citizen’s voice carries the same weight. When politicians choose their voters, that principle collapses. Independent redistricting is not a partisan reform; it is a moral one. It says that legitimacy must flow upward from the people, not downward from the powerful.

Americans deserve to know that their ballot is worth as much as their neighbor’s. Until they demand that Congress create an independent, arms-length agency to draw the lines of power, those lines will continue to be written in the ink of self-interest.

The map of a democracy should be drawn by its people’s conscience, not by its politicians’ convenience.

Sources:
• U.S. Constitution, Article I, Section 4
• Arizona State Legislature v. Arizona Independent Redistricting Commission, 576 U.S. 787 (2015)
• Rucho v. Common Cause, 588 U.S. 684 (2019)
• Elections Canada, “Independent Boundaries Commissions and Electoral Fairness” (2023)
• Pew Research Center, “Public Trust in Elections and Government” (2023)

A Whisper of Momentum: Could the Democrats Be Tilting Toward a Kinder, More Grassroots Future?

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Something is stirring within the Democratic Party of the United States. The off-year elections held this week were, in purely political terms, a resounding success. Democrats swept high-profile races in Virginia, New Jersey, and New York City, while quietly notching smaller but strategically vital wins in states like Georgia and California. These victories, taken together, have left political analysts wondering whether we are seeing the faint outlines of a new political momentum; one that could pull the party closer to its grassroots and, perhaps, toward a more caring, socially grounded, even socialist vision of governance.

In Virginia, Abigail Spanberger’s victory for governor was a study in moderate competence. Her campaign was pragmatic, rooted in local concerns: affordability, infrastructure, and the language of unity over ideology. In New Jersey, Mikie Sherrill followed a similar script, emphasizing trust and stability in a time of global uncertainty. Both are centrists, comfortable in the tradition of cautious, business-friendly Democratic politics that has defined the party’s leadership for decades.

And yet, something more radical glimmered elsewhere. In New York City, Zohran Mamdani, a self-described democratic socialist, captured the mayoralty with a platform that read like a manifesto for a more humane urban future: a rent freeze, free public transit, and universal childcare. His campaign attracted young voters and those disillusioned by what they see as the corporate centrism of Washington. For many, his win was not just local — it was symbolic. It suggested that, beneath the polished pragmatism of the party establishment, there lies a restless hunger for deeper change.

Down-ballot, too, the signs were intriguing. In Georgia, Democrats flipped Public Service Commission seats on the strength of voter frustration over energy prices, a victory built less on ideology than empathy for working-class struggles. In California, the passage of Proposition 50, which allows the legislature to draw congressional districts, handed Democrats a structural advantage that could support longer-term policy experimentation. Across the map, voters seemed to respond to messages centered on care: the cost of living, health, childcare, and the simple question of who the system serves.

These results invite a larger question: Are we witnessing the start of a shift toward a more caring, grassroots Democratic Party; one that takes social justice and collective wellbeing as its compass?

The case for optimism rests on several pillars. Mamdani’s win gives the left a tangible foothold in executive leadership, something not seen since the days of Bernie Sanders’ insurgent campaigns. The new generation of Democratic voters is younger, more diverse, and more skeptical of market orthodoxy than at any point in recent memory. The cost-of-living crisis has blurred the old ideological lines, making redistributive and solidarity-based policies newly attractive to the middle class. And in the wake of Trump’s re-election, the moral and cultural energy of resistance has turned inward, focusing less on opposition and more on what a humane Democratic vision might actually look like.

Yet optimism must coexist with realism. The party’s leadership remains firmly in centrist hands. The Democratic National Committee, congressional leadership, and major donor networks are aligned with a strategy of cautious coalition-building and market-compatible reform. They have reason to be pleased: the moderate playbook, they can argue, just won two governorships. Leaders like Spanberger and Sherrill embody the view that Democrats must win from the middle to govern at all. Their victories, like Joe Biden’s before them, reinforce the institutional belief that centrism is safety.

This is the core tension now facing the party: the grassroots energy that fuels local and progressive campaigns versus the corporate and donor-driven pragmatism that defines national leadership. For the socialist or justice-oriented wing to shape the future, it must turn local victories into durable infrastructure; unions, candidates, policy think tanks, and media networks that can sustain the pressure upward. Without that, the leadership will absorb the energy, rebrand it in softer language, and continue to steer the ship gently leftward without truly changing its course.

The most likely scenarios unfold along three lines. In the first, progressive candidates keep winning, their policies prove popular, and the national platform slowly adapts; integrating labour rights, universal childcare, and socialised public services into the mainstream Democratic identity. In the second, the leadership co-opts the rhetoric of care without altering the underlying economic model, producing a modestly kinder capitalism that soothes but does not transform. And in the third, the leadership doubles down on centrism, citing electability, and the left’s momentum fractures into isolated city-level experiments.

At this moment, it is too early to tell which path will prevail. The evidence of change is real, but fragile. Mamdani’s New York, after all, stands beside Spanberger’s Virginia; two visions of the Democratic Party separated by temperament, class, and strategy. The question is not whether the party can win, but what it intends to do with its wins.

Still, for those who believe in a more compassionate politics, one that measures success not by GDP but by dignity, these elections whisper possibility. The caring impulse, long buried under poll-tested language, is stirring again. It will take courage, organisation, and persistence to turn that whisper into policy, but every movement begins this way: not with a roar, but with the quiet sound of voters choosing empathy over fear.

Sources:
Reuters, Democrats bask in electoral victories a year after Trump’s reelection(Nov 5 2025)
The Guardian, Democrats have racked up election wins across America – but they would do well not to misread the results (Nov 5 2025)
Politico, The last time Democrats won like this was right before the 2018 blue wave (Nov 5 2025)
AP News, Georgia PSC races highlight voter anger over energy costs (Nov 5 2025)
NBC Washington, Takeaways from Election Day 2025 (Nov 5 2025).

Nuremberg Revisited: A Timely Warning to the Trump Administration

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The forthcoming film Nuremberg, slated for release on November 7th, 2025, offers more than just a historical drama, it arrives at a moment in time that invites reflection on the nature of authoritarian power, the fragility of democratic institutions, and the price paid when societies fail to hold tyranny to account. In publishing a cinematic depiction of the post-World-War II trials of Nazi war criminals, the film sends a pointed message, especially to the current U.S. administration, about the consequences of unrestrained power and the urgent need for vigilance in protecting democratic norms.

First, the timing of the release is significant: over eighty years since the original Nuremberg Trials of 1945–46, when the victors of the war sought to ensure that those responsible for crimes against humanity would be held to account. The film’s arrival at this milestone moment suggests that the lessons of that era are not mere relics, but living admonitions. For a present-day administration facing pressures from populist rhetoric, democratic back-sliding, or executive overreach, the film signals that the world remembers what unchecked power is capable of. The very act of dramatizing how the Nazi regime’s leaders were judged and how justice was pursued underscores that history is watching.

Second, by focusing on the moral, psychological and institutional dimensions of tyranny through characters such as Hermann Göring and the American psychiatrist mesmerized by his charisma, the film reminds us that dictators do not always rule by brute force alone, they often wield legitimacy, manipulation and institutional subversion. In a modern context, this is a cautionary tale. When a government begins undermining norms, bypassing checks and balances, or valorizing strong-man tactics, it is not merely a political condition, it echoes the first steps of authoritarianism. The release of this film invites the Trump administration (and by extension any power-consolidating regime) to reflect: the fate of dictatorships is grim, and history does not neglect them.

Third, the timing signals an admonition that accountability matters. The heroes of the film are not the dictators themselves, but the institutions and individuals who insisted on judgment, on due process, on shining light into darkness. That message runs counter to any present-day posture that seeks to evade responsibility or diminish oversight. For the U.S. administration, which holds itself up (and is held up by others) as a model for rule-of-law governance, the film is a reminder that even victors in war cannot sidestep justice: they must build systems that can stand scrutiny. The release date thus communicates that the film is more than entertainment – it is timely commentary.

By arriving in late 2025, a time when global politics are turbulent and the boundaries of democratic norms are under pressure, the film functions as a mirror. It asks: What happens when the “good guys” forget that the preservation of democracy requires constant vigilance? The implication for the Trump administration is subtle but unmistakable: look at the outcome of authoritarianism in the 20th century; learn from the decay of institutional safeguards; and recognize that public memory and moral judgment endure long after the regimes have fallen.

Nuremberg does more than retell a famous trial, it sends a message to the present: authoritarianism isn’t just history’s problem, it is today’s risk. By releasing now, the film invites the Trump administration to see itself in the narrative, one where the rule-of-law must be defended, where power must be constrained, and where the cost of forgetting is steep.

When Confederation Feels Like Confrontation: Ontario and Quebec’s Alberta Dilemma

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As I write in my Ottawa living room, and although my sympathies stretch eastward into Quebec and the Martimes, I am watching Alberta events on the evening news as if viewing a distant cousin gone rogue. From here, in Central Canada, we’ve built our identity on a tapestry of industrial dynamism, social progressiveness, and an uneasy, yet genuine, devotion to national unity. So when Alberta thunders about “owning” its oil sands, rails under federal pipeline delays, and threatens separatism with a bravado more suited to Texas than to the spirit of Confederation, it feels less like a debate among equals, and more like a family spat escalating into road rage.

The Great Divide
Central Canada’s frustration begins with a simple question: Why can’t Alberta appreciate that its prosperity rides on Canada’s backbone? We know well the clang of steel from Lake Ontario factories, the laboratories of McGill and U of T, the commuter trains of the GTA carrying workers into offices that fuel innovation, culture, and trade. We see our tax dollars flow westward into infrastructure grants and environmental clean‑ups, yet all we hear back is how Ottawa is strangling Alberta’s lifeblood. In boardrooms and bistros alike, we exchange incredulous glances. “Is that really how they see us?”

In Ontario’s legislature or Quebec City’s cafés, the lament is the same. Alberta’s insistence on unfettered resource development, against carbon pricing, against pipeline regulations, against the minimal environmental guardrails that we accept as part of modern governance, strikes us as not only shortsighted, but tone‑deaf. After all, we’re the ones negotiating trade deals abroad, keeping Canada’s credit rating intact, and answering to the world for our climate commitments. When Alberta rips up its federal‑provincial agreements, and paints itself as a victim, it risks making the rest of us look like oppressors.

When Conservatives Moved the Needle
It wasn’t a personal chemistry with any one leader that mattered so much as policy alignment. Under Conservative governments, particularly during the years following 2006, Ottawa embraced free‑market principles that resonated deeply in Alberta: lower corporate taxes, streamlined approvals, and a lighter regulatory touch on energy projects. This wasn’t about nostalgia for a single prime minister, but about a political philosophy that saw energy as an engine of growth, not a problem to be managed.

From Alberta’s perspective, deregulated markets and balanced budgets felt like recognition of its core economic values. In Central Canada, we may have questioned some of those choices, but we accepted that a spectrum of economic approaches made Canada stronger. The result was a pragmatic détente: pipelines moved forward, investment flowed, and while we debated environmental trade‑offs, there was at least mutual respect for each region’s priorities.

When Regionalism Becomes Roadblock
Today, the rhetoric out west often sounds like, “Build the pipeline, or we’ll build our own exit ramp.” Yet Central Canada knows unequivocally that there is no exit ramp. Our factories, hospitals, and schools depend on the interprovincial movement of people, goods, and capital. The same pipelines Alberta demands are the conduits that keep our cars running, and our manufacturing humming. When Alberta complains that Ottawa’s carbon tax is an “Ottawa cash grab,” it ignores that those funds have helped pay for the recent transit expansions in Edmonton and Calgary, along with the wastewater infrastructure upgrades in Lethbridge.

Even more galling is the separatist thunder: poll after poll invites alarm with one in three Albertans saying they might consider leaving Canada under a Liberal government, feels like a hostage‑negotiation tactic, rather than a legitimate policy platform. Central Canada hears the echoes of Texas secession talk, fireworks and flags, bravado and bluster, but we see the policy vacuum behind the spectacle. We wonder: can they name a single agreement on the global stage that would willingly recognize a 4.4 million‑person “Republic of Alberta”? Or do they really believe they can simply flip a switch and declare independence?

Progressive Values Under Siege
For all our differences, Central Canada prides itself on progressive values: public healthcare that is universal, environmental targets that align with global science, and social policies that aim to reduce inequality. We do not see these as luxuries, but as imperatives for a 21st century nation. So when Alberta snarls at any shift toward renewable energy or regulatory tightening, we perceive a rejection, not only of policy, but of shared national values. It’s as if Alberta believes that “progressive” is a dirty word, an urban‑elitist dictate, rather than a democratic choice.

The result is a mutual distrust. We view Alberta as obstinate, and uncooperative; they view us as meddlesome and judgmental. And somewhere in the commotion, Canada the country begins to feel less like “one nation” and more like warring fiefdoms.

Pathways to Reconciliation
Even as Central Canadians exhale in frustration, we still cling to the idea that this can be repaired. We remember that the Constitution, our shared contract, grants Alberta ownership of its resources (Section 92A), but also vests Ottawa with authority over interprovincial trade, environmental standards, and national unity. Those overlapping jurisdictions are not battlegrounds to be won; they are negotiation tables to be inhabited with respect.

Here’s what we in the centre would propose:
1. Joint Stewardship Councils
Permanent federal‑provincial bodies—one on energy and one on climate—co‑chaired by ministers from Ottawa and Edmonton, with rotating seats for other provinces. Their mandate: to align pipelines, carbon policy, and regional development in a single coherent plan.
2. Mutual Accountability Reporting
Instead of one‑way complaints, require quarterly reports on how federal actions affect provincial economies and vice versa, published publicly so Albertans and Ontarians alike can see the trade‑offs.
3. Shared Diversification Funds
A federally matched investment fund for Alberta to channel resource revenues into hydrogen, critical minerals, and technology hubs—mirroring grants Ontario and Quebec receive for their own diversification.
4. Cultural Exchange Programs
Scholarships and internships pairing Alberta students with agencies in Ottawa, and Central Canadians with energy‑sector positions in Calgary and Fort McMurray, because trust grows when people move across the lines, not when walls go up.

Towards a True Confederation
As I look east from Ontario or west from Quebec, I still see Alberta as part of Canada’s grand promise, a province of immense resources, entrepreneurial spirit, and resilient people. But a promise requires reciprocity. If Alberta wants the benefits of the Canadian federation, it must share responsibility for national projects, ideals, and compromises. And if Central Canada wants Alberta to feel at home in Confederation, we must speak not with condescension, but with open hands and honest trade‑offs.

In the end, Texas doesn’t have to be our model, and neither does Paris or Beijing. We can be distinctly Canadian: united not in uniformity, but in a federalism that accepts our regional flavors and binds them together in mutual respect. Only then will Alberta’s roar feel like a proud Canadian voice, rather than an echo of someone shouting from outside our walls.

Frank McLynn: A Biographer Who Talks Back to History

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“History is not a static record, and truth is not a simple story. It is a conversation, sometimes a quarrel, and always an argument well made.”

If you haven’t yet fallen into the work of Frank McLynn, consider this a gentle warning: once you do, history will never look quite the same. McLynn isn’t merely a writer of biographies; he is a thinker about biography itself, a historian who insists on a conversation with his peers even as he recounts the lives of figures long departed. His work is a masterclass in the art of writing history that is simultaneously rigorous, readable, and refreshingly candid.

Engaging with History, Not Just Telling It
Take his monumental work on Richard Francis Burton. Most biographers, in approaching a figure like Burton: the explorer, linguist, orientalist, and provocateur would pick a path of reverence, sensationalism, or straightforward chronology. McLynn does none of these exclusively. Instead, he immerses himself in the entire scholarly conversation on Burton, dissecting assumptions, noting disagreements, and then calmly explaining why his own interpretation diverges. He doesn’t dismiss other historians; he engages with them, highlighting blind spots, overlooked evidence, or interpretive errors. The result is not just a biography, but a kind of intellectual conversation that readers can follow and participate in.

Version 1.0.0

This dialogic approach is rare in modern biography. Many writers simply present their research, leaving the reader to assume that their conclusions are self-evident. McLynn, by contrast, shows the intellectual gears turning behind the narrative: why he favors one interpretation over another, why certain sources carry more weight, and why some claims advanced by previous historians are problematic. In doing so, he educates as he narrates, giving readers insight into the historian’s craft as well as the subject’s life.

The Challenge of Burton’s Lost Papers
McLynn’s work on Burton becomes even more remarkable when one considers the obstacles he faced. Much of Burton’s personal material: letters, diaries, manuscripts was deliberately destroyed by his wife, Isabel, after his death. Earlier biographers often treated this loss as a barrier too high to surmount, leaving gaps in the narrative or filling them with speculation that blurred the line between evidence and invention.

McLynn confronts these gaps head-on. He does not pretend they do not exist, nor does he indulge in imaginative reconstruction disguised as fact. Instead, he reconstructs Burton’s world with meticulous care, using surviving letters, published works, contemporary accounts, and even indirect references to piece together a life both vivid and credible. The result is a biography that is as rigorous as it is lively, a rare balance in historical writing, especially given the fragmentary nature of the surviving sources.

What stands out is McLynn’s ethical sensitivity. He demonstrates that historical gaps do not justify careless inference. Rather, he shows how one can be faithful to the evidence while still producing an engaging narrative. Readers gain not only a sense of Burton himself, but also an appreciation for how historians navigate the tension between curiosity and respect, interpretation and invention.

The Ethics and Craft of Biography
This transparency is one of McLynn’s defining traits. He models intellectual honesty in every chapter, reminding readers that biography is as much about interpretation as it is about fact. He acknowledges the limits of sources, the biases of previous scholars, and the moral ambiguity of his subjects. By doing so, he invites readers to think critically, weigh evidence, and arrive at their own conclusions.

McLynn’s biographies are, in a sense, lessons in historiography. Through his work, we see how historical interpretation evolves, how scholars argue across time, and how personal and cultural biases shape the telling of any life. He makes these debates accessible, without ever oversimplifying them, allowing readers to witness the historian’s reasoning in action.

Themes Across McLynn’s Work
Across his wide-ranging oeuvre, from Napoleon Bonaparte to Genghis Khan, from Carl Jung to Marcus Aurelius, McLynn’s approach is consistent. He is drawn to figures who are morally complex, intellectually audacious, or too misunderstood to be captured by conventional narratives. He eschews hagiography and sensationalism alike, favoring instead a careful, nuanced exploration of character and context.

Another hallmark is his attention to cultural and historical environment. McLynn situates his subjects within the broader currents of their times, showing how context shapes decisions, ambitions, and legacies. In Genghis Khan: The Man Who Conquered the World, for example, he paints a rich picture of the Mongol steppe and tribal politics, helping readers understand the extraordinary achievements of a man often caricatured in previous accounts. Similarly, in his Napoleon biography, he balances the public image with the private complexities of the man, providing both strategic analysis and human insight.

Why McLynn Matters
For readers, engaging with McLynn is thrilling. You are not merely absorbing facts; you are witnessing a historian navigate a maze of interpretation, weighing evidence, and arguing with the ghosts of scholarship past. His biographies are immersive, yet intellectually rigorous, blending narrative excitement with careful reasoning.

In a publishing world awash with hagiography, sensationalism, and truncated life sketches, McLynn reminds us why biography matters. He shows that history is a living dialogue, shaped by questions as much as answers. And in every book, quietly but insistently, he is the biographer who talks back, both to his subjects, and to the historians who have preceded him.

“He writes not to canonize or condemn, but to illuminate, and in doing so, he reveals something equally compelling about the practice of history itself.”

For those willing to read closely, McLynn’s footnotes, source critiques, and occasional asides provide a secondary narrative: a conversation about scholarship itself. In this sense, reading McLynn is not just a journey through the lives of extraordinary figures; it is a lesson in how history is written, interpreted, and understood.

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

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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 UN’s Veto Trap: How Superpowers Sabotage Their Own Scapegoat 

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The United Nations is often portrayed as the cornerstone of international diplomacy, a forum where nations come together to resolve disputes, prevent wars, and promote human rights. Yet, in practice, the UN is frequently cast as a convenient scapegoat by the very superpowers that designed it. Its structure, particularly the veto power held by the five permanent members of the Security Council, the United States, Russia, China, the United Kingdom, and France, has become a structural bottleneck, ensuring that decisive action is only possible when the interests of these nations align. Until the veto is removed, the UN will remain hamstrung, caught between high expectations and systemic limitations.

The veto was introduced in 1945 as a compromise to secure the participation of the world’s most powerful states. Without it, the founding members feared that superpowers might bypass or abandon the organization altogether. In theory, the veto was a stabilizing mechanism. In practice, it has become a tool for inaction. Consider Syria: during the ongoing civil war, Russia has repeatedly vetoed resolutions condemning the Assad regime and calling for intervention, while China has often supported Russia’s position. As a result, the Security Council has been paralyzed even in the face of clear evidence of atrocities, leaving millions of civilians exposed to violence. Western leaders then criticize the UN for inaction, conveniently ignoring the very vetoes that prevented it from acting.

Other historical examples reinforce this pattern. During the Rwandan genocide in 1994, the Security Council was slow to act, partly due to reluctance from major powers to commit troops or risk entanglement. The UN Assistance Mission in Rwanda (UNAMIR) was critically under-resourced, and resolutions to expand its mandate were delayed or watered down. Later, when Iraq invaded Kuwait in 1990, the Security Council acted decisively, but only because the superpowers’ interests aligned in opposing Saddam Hussein. This selective engagement demonstrates that the UN’s effectiveness is contingent less on law or morality than on the geopolitical priorities of the P5.

Even more recently, the Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022 exposed the limitations of the UN system. Russia’s veto prevented any meaningful Security Council action, forcing Western nations to rely on unilateral sanctions, NATO coordination, and General Assembly resolutions that carry moral but not binding authority. Russia, in turn, dismissed UN criticism as biased or irrelevant, highlighting the paradox: the UN is invoked when it serves the interests of a superpower, and criticized when it does not. Similarly, the ongoing Israeli-Palestinian conflict shows how the U.S. veto has blocked resolutions condemning settlements or military actions, creating a perception that international law is applied selectively.

These examples illustrate a persistent problem: the UN is used by superpowers as both a tool and a scapegoat. It legitimizes actions when convenient, shields states from criticism, and is blamed for failures beyond its control. The veto allows a single nation to prevent collective action, regardless of the humanitarian or legal merits of a situation. Meanwhile, smaller nations, despite representing the vast majority of UN members, have little real influence. The General Assembly can issue resolutions expressing global consensus, but these are largely symbolic without enforcement mechanisms.

The solution is straightforward: no country should have veto power. The veto institutionalizes inequality and ensures that the UN cannot fulfill its mandate impartially. Proposals have been made to reform the Security Council, including requiring multiple vetoes to block a resolution or eliminating the veto for crimes against humanity, genocide, or aggression. Yet these reforms have stalled because the P5 have no incentive to relinquish privilege. True UN reform requires equalizing the decision-making process, where all nations have a voice and no single state can unilaterally obstruct action. Only then could the UN function as a legitimate arbiter of international law and human rights.

Until veto power is removed, the UN will continue to struggle. It will remain a forum where crises are debated but seldom resolved, where resolutions are celebrated symbolically but ignored in practice, and where superpowers externalize responsibility, casting the organization as weak or ineffectual while maintaining control behind the scenes. The world deserves a UN capable of enforcing its own principles, rather than one whose moral authority is hostage to the interests of a handful of powerful nations. Removing the veto is not just an administrative reform, it is a moral imperative, a prerequisite for a truly effective international system.