The Hidden Cost of Closing Local Public Health Units

Update
The board of Southeast Public Health (SEPH) has passed a motion asking its CEO to reconsider a plan to shutter eight rural offices and explain what led to that decision. The call comes as officials across eastern Ontario speak out against the proposed closures, which were due to take effect in March. SEPH announced last week that it planned to terminated leases in Almonte, Gananoque, Kemptville, Napanee, Perth, Picton and Trenton. An eighth office in Cloyne which SEPH owns would be sold.

When you’ve lived long enough in a rural place, you develop a sense for which institutions actually bind a community together. Some of them are obvious; the hockey arena, the library, the one café where you run into half the town before nine in the morning. Others do their work quietly. Public health units fall into that latter category. They never announce their importance; they simply keep a community ticking along.

That’s why the proposed closure of the Kemptville public health unit has struck such a deep chord in eastern Ontario. To anyone outside the region, it probably looks like a simple administrative shuffle: move the services to Ottawa or Kingston and carry on. But those who live here know that distance has a way of turning a small inconvenience into a real barrier. Rural health research is clear on that point. Canadian Institute for Health Information (CIHI) notes that rural residents face travel burdens six times higher than people in cities, and that even modest distance cuts down uptake of preventive care. It’s not theory. It’s Thursday morning in North Grenville.

A public health visit is rarely glamorous. Nobody posts a celebratory photo after getting their drinking-water sample tested or updating their child’s vaccination record, but these are the tasks that keep a place running, in the same way tightening a hinge keeps a door from falling off. When the unit is close, as the Kemptville unit is, tucked neatly beside the hospital, parents can stop in between shifts, seniors can get help without arranging a ride, and newcomers can manage the long list of small bureaucratic necessities required to make a life in a new place. When that office moves forty, sixty or maybe eighty kilometres down the road, the entire calculation changes.

People take a full day off work. Children miss school. A family without a reliable car postpones the visit until “next month.” And a problem that could have been handled locally becomes an emergency that costs everyone more: the household, the employer, and the healthcare system itself. That is the part governments always seem to forget: the cost of a rural resident sitting in a car for two hours is not measured in fuel receipts alone. It’s measured in missed wages, lost productivity, and the slow erosion of trust in the very systems meant to safeguard public health.

There is also the quieter economic impact. Studies of rural healthcare closures show a pattern: when services disappear, the ripple effects spread. Local hiring dries up. Families choose to settle elsewhere. Seniors relocate to be closer to care. The community loses a little more gravity, a little more anchoring. Rural towns rarely collapse in dramatic fashion; they thin out one service at a time.

All of this feels especially unnecessary in a place like North Grenville. The region is one of the fastest-growing in eastern Ontario. School enrolment is up. Housing construction is steady. The local hospital is expanding, not shrinking. The public health unit is not some neglected outpost; it’s a well-used, well-located service connected directly to the community’s primary health campus. Closing it now is the policy equivalent of removing the front steps during a house renovation: technically possible, but it makes entering the home far harder for everyone.

Public health is fundamentally about prevention, and prevention only works when it’s woven into daily life. When it’s close, familiar, and easy to reach. Kemptville has all of those conditions already. The proposal to centralize services somewhere down Highway 416 or the 401 misunderstands the landscape entirely. Rural communities don’t need systems pulled farther away. They need them held closer, strengthened, and modernized in place.

The truth is simple: local public health units are part of rural infrastructure. Not decorative. Not optional. They are as important as roads, schools, and clean water. You invest in them because they prevent larger problems; social, economic, and medical from taking root.

And in a growing rural township like North Grenville, the smart money isn’t on withdrawal. It’s on staying put.

The Grades Don’t Lie: How Social Media Time Erodes Classroom Results

We finally have the kind of hard, population-level evidence that makes talking about social media and school performance less about anecdotes and more about policy. For years the debate lived in headlines, parental horror stories and small, mixed academic papers. Now, large cohort studies, systematic reviews and international surveys point to the same basic pattern: more time on social media and off-task phone use is associated with lower standardized test scores and classroom performance, the effect grows with exposure, and in many datasets girls appear to show stronger negative associations than boys. Those are blunt findings, but blunt facts can still be useful when shaping policy.  

What does the evidence actually say? A recent prospective cohort study that linked children’s screen-time data to provincial standardized test scores found measurable, dose-dependent associations: children who spent more daily time on digital media, including social platforms, tended to score lower on later standardized assessments. The study controlled for a range of background factors, which strengthens the association and makes it plausible that screen exposure is playing a role in educational outcomes. That dose-response pattern, the more exposure, the larger the test-score deficit, is exactly the sort of signal epidemiologists look for when weighing causality.  

Systematic reviews and meta-analyses add weight to the single-study findings. A 2025 systematic review of social-media addiction and academic outcomes pooled global studies and concluded that problematic or excessive social-media use is consistently linked with poorer academic performance. The mechanisms are sensible and familiar: displacement of homework and reading time, impaired sleep and concentration, and increased multitasking during classwork that reduces learning efficiency. Taken together with cohort data, the reviews make a strong case that social media exposure is an educational risk factor worth addressing.  

One of the most important and worrying nuances is sex differences. Multiple recent analyses report that the negative relationship between social-media use and academic achievement tends to be stronger for girls than boys. Some researchers hypothesise why: girls on average report heavier engagement in image- and comparison-based social activities, higher exposure to social-evaluative threat and cyberbullying, and greater sleep disruption linked to late-night social use. Those psychosocial pathways map onto declines in concentration, motivation and ultimately grades. The pattern is not universal, and some studies still show mixed gender effects, but the preponderance of evidence points to meaningful gendered harms that regulators and schools should not ignore.  

We should, however, be precise about what the data do and do not prove. Most observational studies cannot establish definitive causation: kids who are struggling for other reasons may also turn to social media, and content matters—educational uses can help, while passive scrolling harms. Randomised controlled trials at scale are rare and ethically complex. Still, the consistency across different methodologies, the dose-response signals and plausible mediating mechanisms (sleep, displacement, attention fragmentation) do make a causal interpretation credible enough to act on. In public health terms, the evidence has passed the “good enough to justify precaution” threshold.  

How should this evidence reshape policy? First, age limits and minimum-age enforcement, like Australia’s move to restrict under-16 access, are a sensible piece of a larger strategy. Restricting easy, early access reduces cumulative exposure during critical developmental years and buys time for children to build digital literacy. Second, school policies matter but are insufficient if they stop at the classroom door. The best interventions couple school rules with family guidance, sleep-friendly device practices and regulations that reduce product-level persuasive design aimed at minors. Third, we must pay attention to gender. Interventions should include supports that address comparison culture and online harassment, which disproportionately harm girls’ wellbeing and school engagement.  

There will be pushback. Tech firms and some researchers rightly point to the mixed evidence on benefits, the potential for overreach, and the social costs of exclusion. But responsible policy doesn’t demand perfect proof before action. We now have robust, repeated findings that increased social-media exposure correlates with lower academic performance, shows a dose-response pattern, and often hits girls harder. That combination is a call to build rules, tools and educational systems that reduce harm while preserving the genuinely useful parts of digital life. In plain language: if we care about learning, we must treat social media as an educational determinant and act accordingly.

Sources:
• Li X et al., “Screen Time and Standardized Academic Achievement,” JAMA Network Open, 2025.
• Salari N et al., systematic review on social media addiction and academic performance, PMC/2025.
• OECD, “How’s Life for Children in the Digital Age?” 2025 report.
• Hales GE, “Rethinking screen time and academic achievement,” 2025 analysis (gender differences highlighted).
• University of Birmingham/Lancet regional reporting on phone bans and school outcomes, Feb 2025.  

Sharing as the Core of Influence in Knowledge-Driven Organizations

In contemporary organizational theory, the capacity to share knowledge efficiently is increasingly recognized not merely as a good practice, but as one of the central levers of influence, innovation, and competitive advantage. Influence in the workplace is no longer determined solely by formal authority or proximity to decision-makers; it hinges instead on who opens up their ideas, disseminates outcomes, and builds collective awareness. Knowledge sharing, properly conceived, is a social process that undergirds learning, creativity, and organizational agility.

Why Sharing Still Matters
Even with advances in digital collaboration tools, hybrid work environments, and more explicit knowledge management policies, many organizations continue to wrestle with information silos, “knowledge hoarding,” and weak visibility of what colleagues are doing. These behaviors impose hidden costs: duplication of work, failure to capitalize on existing insights, slow adoption of innovations, and organizational inertia.

Empirical studies confirm that when organizational climate is supportive, when centralization and formalization are lower, knowledge sharing behavior (KSB) tends to increase. For example, a recent study of IT firms in Vietnam (n = 529) found that a positive organizational climate had a direct positive effect on KSB, while high degrees of centralization and formalization decreased knowledge‐sharing intentions.  

Moreover, knowledge sharing is strongly associated with improved performance outcomes. In technological companies in China, for instance, research shows that AI-augmented knowledge sharing, along with organizational learning and dynamic capabilities, positively affect job performance.  

Theoretical Foundations & Diffusion of Influence
A number of established frameworks help us understand both how knowledge spreads and why sharing can shift influence within organizations.
Diffusion of Innovations (Everett Rogers et al.): This theory explains how new ideas are adopted across a social system over time via innovators, early adopters, early majority etc. Key variables include communication channels, time, social systems, and the characteristics of the innovation itself.
Threshold Models & Critical Mass: Recent experiments suggest that when a certain proportion of individuals (often around 20-30%) behave in a particular way (e.g. adopting or sharing an innovation), that can tip the whole system into broader adoption. For example, one study found that social diffusion leading to change in norms becomes much more probable once a committed minority exceeds roughly 25% of the population.
Organizational Climate & Intention/Behavior Models: Behavior intentions (e.g. willingness to share) are shaped by trust, perceived support, alignment of individual and organizational values, and perceived risk/benefit. These mediate whether knowledge is actually shared or hidden.  

Barriers & Enablers
Understanding why people don’t share is as important as understanding why they do.

Barriers include:
Structural impediments like overly centralized decision frameworks, rigid hierarchy, heavy formalization. These reduce the avenues for informal sharing and flatten the perceived payoff for going outside established channels.
Cognitive or psychological obstacles, such as fear of criticism, loss of advantage (“knowledge as power”), lack of trust, or simply not knowing who might benefit from what one knows.
Technological and process deficiencies: poor documentation practices, weak knowledge management systems, lack of standard archiving, difficult to locate material, etc. These make sharing costly in terms of effort, risk of misunderstanding, or duplication.  

Enablers include:
• Cultivating a learning culture: where mistakes are not punished, where experimentation is supported, and where informal learning is valued. Studies in team climate show that the presence of an “organizational learning culture” correlates strongly with innovative work behavior.
• Leadership that is supportive of sharing: transformational, inclusive leadership, openness to new ideas even when they challenge orthodoxy. Leaders who make visible their support for sharing set norms.
• Recognition, incentive alignment, and reward systems that explicitly value sharing. When sharing contributes to promotions, performance evaluations, or peer recognition, people are more likely to invest effort in it.  

Influence through Sharing: A Refined Model
Putting this together, here is a refined model of how sharing translates into influence:
1. Visibility: Sharing makes one’s work visible across formal and informal networks. Visibility breeds recognition.
2. Peer Adoption & Critical Mass: Innovation often needs a threshold of peer adoption. Once enough people (often around 20-30%) accept or discuss an idea, it tends to propagate more broadly. Early informal sharing helps reach that threshold.
3. Legitimization & Institutionalization: When enough peers accept an idea, it begins to be noticed by formal leadership, which may then adopt it as part of official strategy or practice. What was once “radical” becomes “official.”
4. Influence & Reward: As an individual or team’s ideas get absorbed into the organizational narrative, their influence increases. They may be entrusted with leadership, provided more resources, or seen as agents of change.

Recent Considerations: Hybrid Work, Digital Tools, AI
Over the past few years, changes in how and where people work, plus the integration of AI into knowledge-sharing tools, add new dimensions:
• Remote and hybrid setups tend to magnify the problems of invisibility and isolation; informal corridor conversations or impromptu check-ins become less likely. Organizations must work harder to construct virtual equivalents (e.g. asynchronous documentation, digital forums, internal social networks).
• AI and knowledge-management platforms can help accelerate sharing, reduce friction (e.g. discovery of existing reports, automatic tagging, summarisation), but they also risk over-trust in automation or leaving behind tacit knowledge that is hard to codify.
• Given the increasing volume of information, selective sharing and curating become skills. Not every detail needs to be shared widely, but knowing what, when, and how to share is part of influence.

Implications for Practice
For individuals aiming to increase their influence via sharing:
• Embed documentation and archival processes into every project (e.g. phase reports, lessons learned).
• Use both formal and informal channels: internal blogs or newsletters, but also coffee chats, virtual social spaces.
• Be willing to experiment, share preliminary findings; feedback improves ideas and increases visibility.

For organizations:
• Build a culture that rewards sharing explicitly through performance systems.
• Reduce structural barriers like overly centralized control or onerous formalization.
• Provide tools and training to lower the effort of sharing; make knowledge easier to find and use.
• Encourage cross-team interactions, peer networks, communities of practice.

Final Word
Sharing is not just a morally good or nice thing to do, it is one of the most potent forms of influence in knowledge-based work. It transforms static assets into living processes, elevates visibility, enables innovation, and shapes organization culture. As the world of work continues to evolve, those who master the art and science of sharing will increasingly become the architects of change.

References:
Here are key sources that discuss the concepts above. You can draw on these for citations or further reading.
1. Xu, J., et al. (2023). A theoretical review on the role of knowledge sharing and … [PMC]
2. Peters, L.D.K., et al. (2024). “‘The more we share, the more we have’? Analyses of identification with the company positively influencing knowledge-sharing behaviour…”
3. Greenhalgh, T., et al. (2004). “Diffusion of Innovations in Service Organizations.” Milbank Quarterly – literature review on spreading and sustaining innovations.
4. Ye, M., et al. (2021). “Collective patterns of social diffusion are shaped by committed minorities …” Nature Communications
5. Bui, T. T., Nguyen, L. P., Tran, A. P., Nguyen, H. H., & Tran, T. T. (2023). “Organizational Factors and Knowledge Sharing Behavior: Mediating Model of Knowledge Sharing Intention.”
6. Abbasi, S. G., et al. (2021). “Impact of Organizational and Individual Factors on Knowledge Sharing Behavior.”
7. He, M., et al. (2024). “Sharing or Hiding? Exploring the Influence of Social … Knowledge sharing & knowledge hiding mechanisms.”
8. Sudibjo, N., et al. (2021). “The effects of knowledge sharing and person–organization fit on teachers’ innovative work …”
9. Academia preprint: Cui, J., et al. (2025). “The Explore of Knowledge Management Dynamic Capabilities, AI-Driven Knowledge Sharing, Knowledge-Based Organizational Support, and Organizational Learning on Job Performance: Evidence from Chinese Technological Companies.”
10. Koivisto, K., & Taipalus, T. (2023). “Pitfalls in Effective Knowledge Management: Insights from an International Information Technology Organization.”  

The Paradox of Progress: Why Social Change Often Feels Like Loss To The Majority 

In the work of a business consultant, change is a constant theme. Helping teams and organizations evolve often involves navigating the resistance that accompanies any disruption to the status quo. But this resistance isn’t unique to the corporate world, it mirrors broader societal reactions to social rebalancing efforts aimed at addressing inequality.

When societies attempt to redress systemic inequities and provide fair treatment for historically marginalized groups, resistance from the majority is a predictable, if not inevitable, response. What feels like progress to one group can feel like a loss to another. This phenomenon, rooted in psychology, social dynamics, and cultural identity, often transforms equality into a battleground.

Fear of Loss: The Power of Perception
Psychologists point to loss aversion as a key driver of resistance. People fear losing what they perceive as theirs more than they value gaining something new. In the context of social change, efforts to redistribute opportunities or resources to marginalized groups, such as workplace diversity initiatives, can feel to the majority like favoritism or unfair quotas. The reality that their rights remain intact often does little to assuage the emotional perception of loss.

Compounding this fear is a mindset known as zero-sum thinking. Many see opportunities and resources as a fixed pie: if one group gets a larger slice, another must get less. This belief frames the push for equity as a direct threat to the majority’s status, even though social equity often creates broader benefits for society as a whole.

Identity Under Siege
Resistance is not just about resources, it’s also about cultural identity. When dominant norms are challenged by changes like gender-neutral policies, anti-racist education, or expanded LGBTQ+ rights, these shifts can feel deeply personal to those who see their traditions as under attack. This fear of cultural loss often fuels narratives that frame change as an existential threat to the majority’s way of life.

Visible changes exacerbate this perception. Policies aimed at diversity, for example, are often highly noticeable: new hiring practices, updated media representation, or inclusive language reforms. These changes stand out more than the entrenched inequities they seek to address, making them seem disproportionate or unnecessary.

Status and Power: The Fight to Stay on Top
Social dominance theory offers another lens to understand the pushback. Those accustomed to holding power within a social hierarchy often resist efforts to level the playing field. For these groups, rebalancing isn’t just about perceived loss, it’s a challenge to their very status, sparking defensive claims of oppression.

The perception of threat is amplified by polarized media and political rhetoric. Leaders and platforms that oppose social progress often frame equity efforts as an attack on the majority, fueling fear and resentment. This narrative turns equality into a zero-sum game and victimizes those who already hold power.

The Role of Historical Context
Another factor driving resistance is historical amnesia. Without an understanding of the systemic barriers faced by marginalized groups, rebalancing efforts can seem unjustified. For instance, policies like affirmative action, intended to address historical inequities, are often misinterpreted as preferential treatment, rather than as remedies for long-standing disadvantages.

Bridging the Divide
Resistance to social progress isn’t rooted in actual losses of rights, but in the perception of loss. Psychological tendencies, cultural attachment, and divisive narratives all play a role in creating this resistance. Addressing it requires empathy, education, and open dialogue.

By fostering an understanding of systemic inequities and the broader benefits of equity, societies can bridge divides and navigate the inevitable pushback that accompanies change. Social progress may be disruptive, but it paves the way for a more inclusive and equitable future – one where progress is not seen as a loss, but as a shared gain.

Volunteerism in Canada: A Changing Landscape Across Time and Geography

Volunteerism has long been woven into the fabric of Canadian society. From informal acts of neighbourly support to highly structured programs run through non-profits and public institutions, the practice of giving time and effort without monetary reward has played a vital role in community building, social cohesion, and service delivery. Yet, as Canada changes, demographically, economically, and technologically, so too does the nature of volunteering. In particular, the contrast between rural and urban participation in volunteerism highlights both opportunity and strain within the sector.

A Historical Perspective: State Support and Civic Energy
Canada’s federal government has historically recognized the value of volunteerism and made substantial efforts to coordinate and support the sector. The most significant of these efforts came in the early 2000s with the Voluntary Sector Initiative (VSI), a groundbreaking partnership between the federal government and the voluntary sector. It aimed to improve relations, support innovation, and enhance governance in the non-profit field. Within it, the Canada Volunteerism Initiative (CVI) funded research, capacity-building, and public engagement campaigns. Although the VSI ended in 2005, it laid important groundwork by formalizing the relationship between civil society organizations and the federal state.

Departments such as Human Resources Development Canada (HRDC), later restructured into Employment and Social Development Canada (ESDC), have overseen volunteer policy and programming. Recent federal initiatives, like the Canada Service Corps (launched in 2018), focus on youth engagement in service projects and offer microgrants to promote local volunteering. The New Horizons for Seniors Program also supports older Canadians’ participation in community volunteerism. While there is no standalone federal department solely dedicated to volunteerism, it remains embedded within broader social development frameworks.

Recent Trends: Decline and Resilience
Data from the late 2010s and early 2020s reveal both strengths and stresses within the Canadian volunteer ecosystem. As of 2018, over 13 million Canadians, 41% of the population, were engaged in formal volunteerism, contributing a staggering 1.7 billion hours annually. Yet post-pandemic surveys show troubling signs: 55% to 65% of charities report difficulty recruiting and retaining volunteers, with many forced to cut programs due to shortages.

Notably, volunteer patterns are shifting. Traditional, long-term roles are declining in favour of more episodic or informal volunteering, especially among youth. Factors such as time constraints, economic insecurity, digital preferences, and burnout have reshaped how Canadians approach community service. While organizations like Volunteer Canada continue to offer leadership, training, and research, there is growing urgency to adapt volunteer roles to new realities; flexible schedules, virtual engagement, and better inclusion of marginalized groups.

The Rural – Urban Divide: Participation and Capacity
Perhaps the most persistent, and revealing, dimension of volunteerism in Canada is the divide between rural and urban communities. Historically, rural Canadians have had higher participation rates in formal volunteering. Data from the late 1990s and early 2000s show that 37% of rural residentsvolunteered, compared with 29% in urban centres. Among those with post-secondary education, rural volunteers also outpaced urban peers: 63% of rural university grads volunteered versus 42% in urban areas. Similarly, 67% of college-educated rural residents participated in community groups, compared to 55% in cities.

This elevated participation reflects the central role that volunteering plays in small towns and rural communities, where fewer formal services exist, and much of the civic infrastructure, libraries, community centres, fire services, food banks, is volunteer-run. Yet this strength is also a vulnerability. In recent years, many rural communities have reported a sharp decline in volunteer numbers. A 2025 report from rural Alberta described the “plummeting” of local volunteers, warning that essential community functions were under threat.

The rural sector also faces structural challenges. Of Canada’s ~136,000 non-profit organizations in 2022, only 21.3% were located in rural or small-town settings, compared to 78.7% in urban areas. This limits both the reach and coordination capacity of the rural volunteer system, even as demand for services grows. Moreover, rural organizations often lack the staff or infrastructure to recruit and manage volunteers effectively. Data from Volunteer Toronto’s 2025 report confirms that non-profits with dedicated volunteer managers are 16 times more successful in engaging people, resources many rural groups simply don’t have.

The Broader Role of Volunteerism: Health, Identity, and Belonging
Beyond economics and logistics, volunteerism holds deeper meaning in Canadian life. Research has long shown strong links between volunteering and well-being. Volunteers report lower stress levelsbetter mental health, and a greater sense of purpose. For newcomers, volunteering offers social integration. For youth, it builds skills and confidence. For seniors, it combats isolation.

Moreover, volunteering shapes Canadian identity. The nation’s reputation for kindness and civic responsibility is deeply connected to the widespread assumption that people help each other, often through organized groups. Volunteerism is one of the few activities that bridges socio-economic, linguistic, and cultural divides.

A Call for Renewal
Volunteerism in Canada is both a legacy and a living system. While the numbers remain impressive, the sector is showing signs of strain, especially in rural areas and among long-time service organizations. A national renewal is underway: a National Volunteer Action Strategy is being developed with support from the federal government, aiming to modernize the sector and reverse declining trends.

As Canada continues to evolve, so too must its approach to volunteerism. This means investing in recruitment, training, and support, especially where capacity is low. It means listening to the needs of volunteers themselves and creating flexible, inclusive ways to contribute. Most of all, it means recognizing volunteerism not just as charity or goodwill, but as vital infrastructure in the Canadian democratic and social landscape.

Sources
• Volunteer Canada (2023–2024 reports): https://volunteer.ca
• Statistics Canada: General Social Survey and 2018 formal volunteering stats
• Canada Service Corps and ESDC evaluation documents (2023–2024)
• Volunteer Toronto Snapshot (2025): https://www.volunteertoronto.ca
• Senate report “Catalyst for Change” (2023)
• Rural Alberta volunteer crisis coverage: https://rdnewsnow.com

Time for a Change: Rethinking Canada’s Outdated School Calendar

For generations, Canadian schools have followed a familiar rhythm: two long semesters separated by a ten-week summer break. This model, which mirrors the American academic calendar, has been treated as a given, but as family structures, work patterns, and educational needs evolve, cracks are beginning to show in this once-stable system. Increasingly, educators, parents, and community leaders are asking whether it still serves students well, or whether Canada should adopt a more balanced approach to the school year, such as the three-term model used in the United Kingdom.

The long summer break is a historical holdover from an agrarian society. At a time when most families worked the land, it made sense to release children from classrooms during planting and harvest seasons. In modern Canada, where the vast majority of children live in urban or suburban areas and are no longer expected to work the land, that rationale has faded. What remains is a tradition that no longer aligns with today’s educational or social realities.

One of the most significant drawbacks of the extended summer holiday is the well-documented problem of “summer slide”, a regression in academic achievement that occurs when students are away from structured learning for too long. This effect is especially pronounced among students from low-income families, who may have fewer opportunities for summer enrichment such as camps, travel, or private tutoring. Research by the Brookings Institution and other educational bodies has shown that summer learning loss can account for up to two-thirds of the achievement gap between students from different socioeconomic backgrounds by the time they reach high school. Compressing the summer break and redistributing time off across the year could help mitigate this decline and promote more equitable learning outcomes.

This is where the UK model offers a compelling alternative. British schools typically divide the academic year into three terms: the Autumn term, the Spring term, and the Summer term. Each term lasts roughly 12 to 13 weeks and is separated by a one- or two-week “half-term” break in the middle, as well as a longer holiday between terms. Specifically, the Autumn term runs from early September to mid-December, with a one-week break in late October and a two-week Christmas holiday. The Spring term resumes in early January and runs to Easter, with a mid-February break. The Summer term begins after Easter and ends in mid- to late July, with a break in late May and then a final six-week summer holiday.

This structure creates a school calendar that is more evenly distributed across the year. The frequent breaks reduce the mental and emotional fatigue that can accumulate over long semesters. Students benefit from regular intervals of rest and reset, which helps maintain focus and engagement. Teachers, too, report reduced burnout, and a greater ability to manage workloads and lesson planning. The predictability of this system also makes it easier for families to plan holidays, arrange childcare, and balance work obligations.

In Canada, there are already signs of a shift. Some schools have experimented with balanced-year calendars, particularly in Ontario and British Columbia. These models usually feature a shortened summer break, typically five to six weeks, and more frequent breaks during the school year. Feedback from these pilot programs has been largely positive. Students return from breaks more refreshed and are better able to retain information across the academic year. Educators note a smoother teaching rhythm with fewer interruptions caused by fatigue or disengagement. Families appreciate the greater flexibility in scheduling vacations and the reduced pressure to fill an entire summer with costly activities.

Beyond the educational and practical benefits, rethinking the school year is also a matter of social equity. When only a portion of the population can afford enriching summer experiences, gaps in learning and personal development inevitably widen. A more evenly spaced calendar can create more frequent and accessible opportunities for intervention, support, and enrichment that are available to all students, not just the most privileged.

Of course, change will not be without challenges. Teachers’ unions, school boards, and provincial ministries would need to collaborate closely to implement new calendars. Working parents would require advance notice to plan around a revised schedule. But these challenges are not insurmountable. Other countries, including Australia and Germany, have successfully adopted modified calendars that better suit modern life while preserving high educational standards.

Canada has a proud tradition of public education that adapts to meet the needs of its citizens. The time has come to revisit the structure of the academic year. Updating the calendar to reflect 21st-century realities would not mean abandoning heritage, but rather honoring the purpose of education itself: to provide all students with the best possible chance to learn, grow, and succeed. A shift toward a term-based calendar, inspired by models like that of the UK, could be a transformative and forward-looking step in that direction.

Sources
• Brookings Institution: “Summer learning loss – what is it, and what can we do about it?” (2020) — https://www.brookings.edu/articles/summer-learning-loss-what-is-it-and-what-can-we-do-about-it/
• EdCan Network (Canadian Education Association): “Rethinking the School Calendar” (2014) — https://www.edcan.ca/articles/rethinking-the-school-calendar/
• Public Health Ontario: “Balanced School Day: Literature Review” (2015) — https://www.publichealthontario.ca/-/media/documents/b/2015/balanced-school-day.pdf

Canada Day 2025: We the Land, We the People, We the Future

Each year, as summer settles across this vast country, Canada Day offers more than a pause to celebrate; it becomes a mirror. It reflects where we’ve been, how far we’ve come, and what still lies ahead. In 2025, that mirror shows a country in motion: humbled by hard truths, energized by change, and cautiously hopeful about its collective future.

Canada’s greatest strength has always been its people, more specifically, the way those people form communities, across difference, distance, and time. Whether it’s neighbourhoods organizing around mutual aid during crises, newcomers finding belonging through language and culture, or Indigenous and non-Indigenous Canadians working to build bridges of understanding, the story of Canada has always been about finding common cause in uncommon diversity.

A Country That Listens
The last decade has been a time of awakening. We have begun, in earnest, to face the truths long buried beneath the official narratives. The unmarked graves at residential school sites shook the conscience of the nation. The calls to action from the Truth and Reconciliation Commission and the National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls have challenged us to move beyond apologies; to action, to justice, and to shared governance.

This year, as we mark Canada Day, many communities will fly the flag not just alongside fireworks, but beside Indigenous symbols and ceremonies. This is not tokenism, it is a recognition that Canada cannot be whole until its relationship with First Nations, Inuit, and Métis peoples is grounded in truth, respect, and partnership. We are not “including” Indigenous peoples in Canada. They are foundational to it. The land we gather on, from coast to coast to coast, has always been home to Indigenous Nations whose stewardship, governance, and wisdom predate Confederation by millennia.

Art by Mervin Windsor

Building Communities Worth Belonging To
Canada is changing, and so too is our idea of what belonging looks like. From the refugee who opens a bakery in a prairie town, to the queer teen finding affirmation in a Pride flag at city hall, to the elder reconnecting with their Anishinaabe language after decades of suppression, these are the quiet revolutions that define who we are becoming.

What binds us is not sameness, but a shared commitment to live well together. In our towns and cities, on reserves and in rural areas, Canadians are building communities that emphasize care, inclusion, and responsibility to one another. That might mean ensuring affordable housing, supporting local food systems, protecting public health care, or reimagining schools and services that honour different ways of knowing and being.

This is no small task in an era of global uncertainty, but across Canada, there is a growing understanding that prosperity isn’t measured solely in GDP, but in how well we support one another, and how wisely we care for the land we share.

A Collective Future Rooted in Respect
Canada Day is no longer a day of uncritical pride. It has become a space of reflection; of mourning, of gratitude, and of possibility. That shift is healthy. It shows maturity. It means we are ready to move past mythologies and start shaping a future based on partnership and mutual responsibility.

We must reject any vision of Canada that seeks to divide, exclude, or erase. Instead, we can choose a model of governance that is not merely tolerant, but collaborative. One where Indigenous laws sit alongside Canadian law, where treaties are living agreements, not dusty documents, and where decisions about land, water, and resources are made together, with full consent and shared benefit.

This is already happening. Across the North, in B.C., in the courts and in the communities, new models of co-governance are emerging. Indigenous youth are leading language revitalization and climate action. Urban reserves are revitalizing local economies. Land acknowledgements are being matched with land back initiatives. These are not threats to Canada, they are Canada’s best chance at becoming whole.

Choosing Hope
As we gather this Canada Day; on picnic blankets, around bonfires, in ceremonies, and in celebrations, let us remember that patriotism need not mean perfection. It can mean care. It can mean commitment. And it can mean an unwavering belief that we can do better – together.

The maple leaf is not just a symbol of peace and modesty. It’s a living thing, growing, branching, changing with the seasons. So too is this country.

Let us plant our feet not in nostalgia, but in the present. Let us honour the ancestors, Indigenous and settler alike, whose sacrifices shaped this land. Let us listen deeply to the truths we once ignored, and let us walk, side by side, into a future that is more just, more joyful, and more deeply rooted in shared respect.

Happy Canada Day – to the land, to the people, and to the promise of what we can build, together.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Policing the Halls: Why Officers Don’t Belong in Ontario Schools

The integration of police officers into Ontario schools, primarily through School Resource Officer (SRO) programs, has been a contentious issue for decades. Initially introduced in the early 1990s, these programs aimed to foster positive relationships between students and law enforcement, deter criminal behavior, and enhance school safety. Over time, however, concerns about their effectiveness and impact on marginalized communities have led to widespread reevaluation and, in many cases, the termination of such programs.

One of the most comprehensive evaluations of an SRO program in Ontario was conducted by Carleton University, focusing on Peel Region’s initiative. The study reported several benefits, including reduced crime and bullying, improved mental health among students, and a significant return on investment, estimating $11.13 in social and economic benefits for every dollar spent. Notably, students who had experienced bullying or violence reported feeling significantly safer after five months of the program. School staff also benefited, spending less time on disciplinary matters due to the support of SROs.  

Despite these findings, the presence of police in schools has faced mounting criticism. Critics argue that SRO programs disproportionately affect racialized and marginalized students, contributing to a school-to-prison pipeline. For instance, the Toronto District School Board (TDSB) implemented its SRO program in 2008, but terminated it in 2017 after a review revealed that some students felt intimidated by the presence of officers, particularly Black students who expressed fear related to armed officers in schools.    

Similarly, the Peel District School Board ended its SRO program in 2020, acknowledging that it had a negative impact on segments of the student population and citing concerns about systemic racism and the disproportionately punitive effects of such programming.  The Ottawa-Carleton District School Board followed suit in 2021, with trustees voting to end participation in the SRO program and issuing a formal apology for any harm experienced by students or community members.   

The Ontario Human Rights Commission (OHRC) has also weighed in, emphasizing the need to consider terminating SRO programs in light of existing research and meaningful community consultation. The OHRC highlighted that while some students may feel safer with police presence, others, particularly those from marginalized communities, may feel unsafe or targeted, which can negatively impact their educational experience.  

Given this historical context, reintroducing police into Ontario schools raises significant concerns. While studies like the one conducted in Peel Region suggest potential benefits, they often fail to adequately address the experiences of marginalized students who may feel alienated or criminalized by police presence. The risk of exacerbating systemic inequalities and undermining the educational environment for these students outweighs the purported advantages. 

Instead of reinstating SRO programs, resources should be allocated to initiatives that promote equity and inclusivity within schools. This includes investing in mental health services, hiring more guidance counselors, and implementing restorative justice practices that address behavioral issues without resorting to punitive measures. By focusing on these alternatives, Ontario can create a safer and more supportive educational environment for all students, particularly those who have historically been marginalized. 

While the intention behind placing police officers in schools may be to enhance safety and build community relations, the evidence suggests that such programs can have detrimental effects on marginalized student populations. Ontario’s educational institutions should prioritize inclusive and supportive measures that address the root causes of behavioral issues without contributing to systemic disparities.

The Quiet Leader: Alberta’s Hidden Role in North America’s Prosperity

In an era of mounting economic uncertainty, geopolitical tension, and post-pandemic recovery, Alberta has quietly emerged as North America’s top subnational performer in a critical and often overlooked metric: the Human Development Index (HDI). For policy watchers and socio-economic analysts, this isn’t just a number to file under “interesting trivia.” Alberta’s position at the top of the HDI rankings among all Canadian provinces, American states, and Mexican territories marks a significant case study in the relationship between natural resource wealth, public policy, and long-term human development outcomes.

As of the most recent figures, Alberta boasts an HDI score of 0.947, narrowly edging out perennial Canadian leaders like British Columbia and Ontario, and standing shoulder to shoulder with wealthy U.S. states like Massachusetts (0.956). The HDI, developed by the United Nations, is a composite measure of life expectancy, education, and per capita income. It is often used as a more holistic gauge of prosperity than GDP alone, as it reflects not only how much wealth a region generates, but how that wealth translates into actual well-being.

Alberta’s strong showing may come as a surprise to some, especially given the narrative often pushed about the province being overly reliant on fossil fuels or politically out of step with the rest of the country, but the truth is more nuanced. Alberta’s prosperity, particularly in the past two decades, has allowed it to make significant investments in healthcare, education, and infrastructure. Its high-income levels have supported strong public services, when policy has aligned with long-term development goals, and its young, well-educated workforce has given the province a demographic advantage. This is not to ignore Alberta’s volatility or the challenges of a boom-and-bust economy, but rather to acknowledge that, when things align, the outcomes can be extraordinary.

Education is a particular strength. Alberta consistently ranks among the top in Canada, and even internationally, in literacy, math, and science scores, according to the OECD’s PISA results. Its public healthcare system, while strained like others across Canada, remains broadly effective and accessible. Meanwhile, high wages, especially in the energy and trades sectors, boost the per capita income metric significantly, even when adjusted for cost of living.

Of course, HDI doesn’t capture everything. Alberta’s Indigenous communities, rural populations, and recent immigrants often experience very different outcomes than the provincial average. Income inequality, climate vulnerability, and questions around economic diversification remain pressing concerns, but as an overall measure of human potential realized, Alberta’s HDI score offers a compelling counter-narrative to those who dismiss it as a one-note petro-state.

The implications of Alberta’s top-tier HDI rating should not be understated. For federal policymakers, it underscores the importance of regional economic engines in lifting national development indicators. For other provinces and territories, it poses a question: what mix of resources, governance, and vision leads to sustained human flourishing? And for Alberta itself, it’s a reminder that the province’s legacy need not be only pipelines and politics, it can also be about how to build a society where people truly thrive.