SIX THINGS WRONG WITH CANADA

I won't mention no Stanley Cups won for twenty years.

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1. Squeaky Wheel Syndrome

Let us start with that charming little bromide: the squeaky wheel gets the grease. In Canada, we don’t just give it grease. We polish it, hold a land acknowledgement for it, and then pass a motion calling it brave. We are, in short, doormats in our own homes—a nation so allergic to conflict we apologise when trampled. While America wrestles with itself in a screaming match of moral hysteria, we host a book club about it, chaired by a non-binary barista with a sociology minor and an axe to grind.

We tell ourselves we're different. That we're not like the Americans. That we have gun control. That we don’t have 10,000 undocumented souls wandering across our southern border every Tuesday. But in our rush to differentiate ourselves from our louder cousins, we've adopted the same madness, just with better manners. We, too, believe that the phrase "I identify as" should override biology, reason, and sometimes gravity. Some, too, insist that children be chemically castrated with the enthusiastic consent of underqualified teachers who got a B-minus in finger painting and think TikTok is a pedagogical tool.

And the press? Our brave fourth estate, subsidised like a toddler on training wheels by federal handouts and Silicon Valley guilt payments, wouldn’t bite the hand that feeds it even if it were dipped in gravy. The CBC couldn’t report fairly on a government policy if it meant spelling 'transparency' without a thesaurus. As for the unions, those champions of solidarity and justice, they publicly denounce Israel and privately assure me they can separate bias from duty—a bit like saying you hate swimming but are happy to lifeguard the deep end.

2. Politeness as Collective Cowardice

It’s a running joke that we Canadians apologise when someone else steps on us. Our national pride lies in being polite, in not ruffling feathers, in treating confrontation like a food allergy. But politeness has ceased being a virtue; it’s metastasised into cowardice. It’s not unlike those Germans in the '30s, who hoped “someone else” would raise a hand while they passed the potatoes and the Reichstag burned. Fringe voices—the tantrum-prone, the terminally offended, the TikTok-credentialed—now guide our public discourse. At the same time, the decent majority clutches its pearls in private and posts nothing controversial lest Aunt Sharon unfollow them.

And yes, I said Hamas was like Nazis—because they are—and for that, at Guelph-Humber, I was crucified in a kangaroo court led by people who think procedural fairness is a microaggression. One union laughed; the other skipped the meeting. Two students dared to protest; the rest of the campus was quieter than a woke librarian at a gun range.

3. Bill C-16 and the Language Police

Remember Bill C-16? That charming bill that inserted gender identity into human rights law like a poisoned dart into the jugular of free speech. It claimed to defend the marginalised. In truth, it deputised every activist with a pronoun fetish to control your tongue like a ventriloquist. Jordan Peterson warned us. They called him transphobic, which is the modern left’s way of saying "shut up." Instead of reasoned debate, we got moral posturing and weaponised victimhood. The left doesn’t argue—it throws darts labelled "racist," "phobic," or "harmful," and hopes something sticks.

Most Canadians shrugged and retreated. Social media offered its usual dreck: Peterson, they said, was "the dumb person’s smart person." An insult so smugly delivered as to mask the intellectual bankruptcy behind it barely engages with the argument.

4. Oil, Gas, and Environmental Extremists

The Trans Mountain pipeline debate was never about oil. It was a proxy war between zealots. On one side, the climate inquisition demands that economic life be sacrificed at the altar of Greta Thunberg. On the other hand, flag-waving reactionaries scream that carbon is Canadian heritage. In between stood regular citizens, whispering timidly that perhaps, just perhaps, jobs and the environment could coexist. But nuance has no place when the squeaky wheels are spinning into moral hysteria. Andrew Coyne, that rare unicorn who still thinks before tweeting, said it best: the moderate middle is passive-aggressive, but the aggressive are winning.

5. Cancellation Culture: Destroying Context

Remember Jessie Fleming at the University of Ottawa? She uttered a racial slur—not in malice, but in an academic discussion on hate speech. The context was clear, the intention unimpeachable. And she was instantly suspended. No trial, no nuance, no courage. Just a feeding frenzy from the professionally offended and the cowardly administrators who serve them.

In my case, I dared compare Hamas to Nazis—which, in any sane world, is not only true but charitable. I deleted it. But my accuser—and the Vice Provost who had previously only demonstrated cruelty, not ideology—smelled blood. Accusations flew, support evaporated, and silence reigned. Faculty lied. Students whispered. Administrators hid. All Canadian. All polite.

6. The Culture of Feminisation and National Decay

Let’s be clear. This isn’t about women. It’s about the effeminate rot that prioritises feelings over facts, harmony over truth, diversity quotas over competence. Masculinity isn’t toxic; its absence is. We celebrate empathy and inclusion to such a degree that assertiveness is criminalised. Trudeau doesn’t just sit alone at world summits. He looks like a child at the adult table, clutching his knees and waiting for permission to speak.

Meanwhile, our military is a joke. Our submarines would sink faster than our GDP if they were submerged in water. We recently upgraded from World War II pistols, and we believe "peacekeeping" is a viable strategy. Americans laugh. They argue. They fight. And yes, sometimes they go too far. But at least they fight.

Our campuses are now therapeutic gardens of feelings. Professors whisper like concubines in a tyrant’s harem. The National Post reports that free speech is more endangered than the caribou. We don’t debate anymore. We apologise, censor, cancel. Masculinity is treated like asbestos. And yet, we wonder why we have no leaders.

So here we are. A nation of Terry Foxes with the spirit of tepid librarians. A country that apologises for being stepped on, that bows to loud children and fringe ideologues, and that cowers before the mob. We let the worst among us shout us down. We let ourselves believe that politeness is a form of patriotism. It isn’t.

It’s surrender—nothing to see here.

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