Tag Archives: politics

The Long-Term Fallout from MAGA: One Canadian’s Perspective

The other day, an American friend asked how Canada was currently feeling about Trump and the whole MAGA thing. You may remember some months back a number of broadsides towards Canada from the president that seemingly came from nowhere -– Trump threatening/cajoling us to become the 51st state, on again-off again tariffs, continued assertions that the US does not need Canada for anything, completely unveiled threats towards us from Pete Hoekstra, the American Ambassador to Canada.

We took it personally. “Elbows up” became the Canadian rallying cry – a reference to protecting yourself in our beloved national sport – fighting along the boards balanced on frozen water while wearing sharp blades on your feet. Liquor stores had shelf after empty shelf that once were laden with California reds and Kentucky bourbon. Canadian trips to Disneyland and Las Vegas plummeted. Grocery stores started labeling products that (supposedly – which is another story) came from Canada. Canadian consumers and businesses scrambled to find Canadian substitutes for traditional American suppliers.

That was then. What about now?

Trump and the MAGA train have moved on to an endless list of other scandals and dumpster fires. I haven’t heard a whisper of the 51st state for a long time. While our trade war continues on, fueled by shots across the bow from both sides, I think it’s fair to say that we are now just lumped with every other country reeling from the daily bat-shit crazy barrage coming from Washington. Canadians are used to being ignored, for good or bad, so we’re back to situation normal – all F*$%ed up.

But have Canadians moved on? Have we dropped said elbows? The honest answer is – it’s complicated.

Predictably the patriotic fervor we had early this year has cooled off. California reds are back on the shelves. More Canadians are planning to visit Hawaii and Florida this winter. “Grown in the U.S.A.” stickers are back where they belong, in the produce bins at our grocery stores. When it comes to our American habit – it’s like the line from Brokeback Mountain – “We wish we knew how to quit you.”

Like all relationships, the one between the US and Canada is complex. It’s unrealistic to expect a heavily intertwined relationship like ours to disappear overnight. There are probably no two countries in the world more involved with each other’s business than we are. And that cuts both ways, despite what Mr. Trump says. We have been married to each other for a very long time. Even if we want to go through with it, a divorce is going to take some time.

The numbers from the first six months of our “Buy Canadian” campaign are in, and they are less than inspiring. According to StatsCan, 70% of Canadian businesses saw no increase in sales at all. Even with those that did, the impact was minimal and any gain was usually offset by other sales challenges.  

But if you dig a little deeper, there are signs that there might be more long-term damage done here than first meets the eye. In Canadian grocery stores over the past six months, sales of “Made in Canada” products are up 10% while U.S. made goods are down 9%. Those aren’t huge swings, but they have been sustained over 6 months, and in the words of one Canadian analyst speaking on CBC Radio, when something lasts for 6 months, “you’re moving from fad territory to trend territory.”

The dilemma facing Canadians is something called the “Attitude Behavior Gap” – the difference between what we want to do and what we are actually doing. Canadians – 85% of us anyway – want to buy Canadian rather than American, but it’s really hard to do that. Canadian goods are harder to find and typically cost more. It’s the reality of having a trading partner that outnumbers you both in market size and output by a factor of 10 to 1. If we want to have a Ceasar salad in December, we’re going to have to buy lettuce grown in the U.S.

But we are talking relationships here, so let’s relook at that 85% intention to “Buy Canadian” number again. That means that – 6 months after we were insulted – we still feel that a fundamental trust was irrevocably broken. We’re being pragmatic about it, but our intention is clear, we’re looking for alternatives to our past default behavior – buying American. When those alternatives make economic and behavioral sense to us, we’ll find other partners. That is what is happening in Canada right now.

Should Americans care? I believe so. Because I’m sure we’re not the only ones. The world is currently reeling from the sharp American pivot away from being a globally trusted partner. The short-term reality is that we will put up with it for now and pander to the Presidential powers that be, because we have to.

But we’re looking for options. Our dance card is suddenly wide open.

The Raging Ripple Effect of AirBNB

Ripple Effect: the continuing and spreading results of an event or action.

I’m pretty sure Brian Chesky and Joe Gebbia had no idea what they were unleashing when they decided to rent out an air mattress in the front room of their San Francisco apartment in the fall of 2007. The idea made all kinds of sense: there was not a hotel room to be had, there was a huge conference in town and they were perpetually short on their rent. It seemed like the perfect win-win – and, at first, it was.

But then came the Internet. AirBnB was born and would unleash unintended consequences that would change the face of tourism, up-end real estate markets and tear apart neighborhoods in cities around the world..

For the past two decades we have seen the impact of simple ideas that can scale massively thanks to the networked world we live in. In a physical world, there are real world factors that limit growth. Distribution, logistics, production, awareness – each of these critical requirements for growth are necessarily limited by geography and physical reality. 

But in a wired world, sometimes all you need is to provide an intermediary link between two pools of latent potential and the effect is the digital equivalent of an explosion. There is no physical friction to moderate the effect. That’s what AirBnB Did. Chesky and Gebbia’s simple idea became the connection between frustrated travellers who were tired of exorbitant hotel prices and millions of ordinary people who happened to have a spare bed. There was enormous potential on both sides and all AirBNB had to do was facilitate the connection.

AirBnB’s rise was meteoric. After Chesky and Gebbia’s initial brainstorm in 2007, they launched a website the next spring, in 2008. One year later there were hosts in 1700 cities in 100 different countries. Two years after that, AirBnB had hosted their 1 millionth guest and had over 120,000 listings. By 2020, the year Covid threw a pandemic sized spanner in the works of tourism, AirBnB had 5.6 million listings and was heading towards an IPO. 

Surprisingly, though, a global pandemic wasn’t the biggest problem facing AirBnB. There was a global backlash building that had nothing to do with Covid 19. AirBnB’s biggest problem was the unintended ripple effects of Chesky and Gebbia’s simple idea.

Up until the debut of the internet and the virtual rewiring of our world, new business ideas usually grew slowly enough for the world to react to their unintended consequences. As problems emerged, new legislation could be passed, new safeguards could be introduced and new guidelines could be put in place. But when AirBnB grew from a simple idea to a global juggernaut in a decade, things happened too quickly for the physical world to respond. Everything was accelerated: business growth, demand and the impact on both tourism and the communities those tourists were flocking to. 

Before we knew what was happening, tourism had exploded to unsustainable levels, real estate markets went haywire and entire communities were being gutted as their character changed from a traditional neighborhood to temporary housing for wave after wave of tourists. It’s only recently that many cities that were being threatened with the “AirBnB” effect responded with legislation that either banned or severely curtailed short term vacation rentals.

The question is, now that it’s been unleashed, can the damage done by AirBnB be undone? Real estate markets that were artificially fueled by sales to prospective short term rental hosts may eventually find a new equilibrium, but many formerly affordable listings could remain priced beyond the reach of first time home buyers. Will cities deluged by an onslaught of tourism ever regain the charm that made them favored destinations in the first place? Will neighbourhoods that were transformed by owners cashing in on the AirBnB boom ever regain their former character?

In our networked world, the ripples of unintended consequences spread quickly, but their effects may be with us forever.

The Credibility Crisis

We in the western world are getting used to playing fast and loose with the truth. There is so much that is false around us – in our politics, in our media, in our day-to-day conversations – that it’s just too exhausting to hold everything to a burden of truth. Even the skeptical amongst us no longer have the cognitive bandwidth to keep searching for credible proof.

This is by design. Somewhere in the past four decades, politicians and society’s power brokers have discovered that by pandering to beliefs rather than trading in facts, you can bend to the truth to your will. Those that seek power and influence have struck paydirt in falsehoods.

In a cover story last summer in the Atlantic, journalist Anne Applebaum explains the method in the madness: “This tactic—the so-called fire hose of falsehoods—ultimately produces not outrage but nihilism. Given so many explanations, how can you know what actually happened? What if you just can’t know? If you don’t know what happened, you’re not likely to join a great movement for democracy, or to listen when anyone speaks about positive political change. Instead, you are not going to participate in any politics at all.”

As Applebaum points out, we have become a society of nihilists. We are too tired to look for evidence of meaning. There is simply too much garbage to shovel through to find it. We are pummeled by wave after wave of misinformation, struggling to keep our heads above the rising waters by clinging to the life preserver of our own beliefs. In the process, we run the risk of those beliefs becoming further and further disconnected from reality, whatever that might be. The cogs of our sensemaking machinery have become clogged with crap.

This reverses a consistent societal trend towards the truth that has been happening for the past several centuries. Since the Enlightenment of the 18th century, we have held reason and science as the compass points of our True Norh. These twin ideals were buttressed by our institutions, including our media outlets. Their goal was to spread knowledge. It is no coincidence that journalism flourished during the Enlightenment. Freedom of the press was constitutionally enshrined to ensure they had the both the right and the obligation to speak the truth.

That was then. This is now. In the U.S. institutions, including media, universities and even museums, are being overtly threatened if they don’t participate in the wilful obfuscation of objectivity that is coming from the White House. NPR and PBS, two of the most reliable news sources according to the Ad Fontes media bias chart, have been defunded by the federal government. Social media feeds are awash with AI slop. In a sea of misinformation, the truth becomes impossible to find. And – for our own sanity – we have had to learn to stop caring about that.

But here’s the thing about the truth. It gives us an unarguable common ground. It is consistent and independent from individual belief and perspective. As longtime senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan famously said, “Everyone is entitled to his own opinion, but not to his own facts.” 

When you trade in falsehoods, the ground is consistently shifting below your feet. The story is constantly changing to match the current situation and the desired outcome. There are no bearings to navigate by. Everyone had their own compass, and they’re all pointing in different directions.

The path the world is currently going down is troubling in a number of ways, but perhaps the most troubling is that it simply isn’t sustainable. Sooner or later in this sea of deliberate chaos, credibility is going to be required to convince enough people to do something they may not want to do. And if you have consistently traded away your credibility by battling the truth, good luck getting anyone to believe you.

Bread and Circuses: A Return to the Roman Empire?

Reality sucks. Seriously. I don’t know about you, but increasingly, I’m avoiding the news because I’m having a lot of trouble processing what’s happening in the world. So when I look to escape, I often turn to entertainment. And I don’t have to turn very far. Never has entertainment been more accessible to us. We carry entertainment in our pocket. A 24-hour smorgasbord of entertainment media is never more than a click away. That should give us pause, because there is a very blurred line between simply seeking entertainment to unwind and becoming addicted to it.

Some years ago I did an extensive series of posts on the Psychology of Entertainment. Recently, a podcast producer from Seattle ran across the series when he was producing a podcast on the same topic and reached out to me for an interview. We talked at length about the ubiquitous nature of entertainment and the role it plays in our society. In the interview, I said, “Entertainment is now the window we see ourselves through. It’s how we define ourselves.”

That got me to thinking. If we define ourselves through entertainment, what does that do to our view of the world? In my own research for this column, I ran across another post on how we can become addicted to entertainment. And we do so because reality stresses us out, “Addictive behavior, especially when not to a substance, is usually triggered by emotional stress. We get lonely, angry, frustrated, weary. We feel ‘weighed down’, helpless, and weak.”

Check. That’s me. All I want to do is escape reality. The post goes on to say, “Escapism only becomes a problem when we begin to replace reality with whatever we’re escaping to.”

I believe we’re at that point. We are cutting ties to reality and replacing them with a manufactured reality coming from the entertainment industry. In 1985 – forty years ago – author and educator Neil Postman warned us in his book Amusing Ourselves to Death that we were heading in this direction. The calendar had just ticked past the year 1984 and the world collectively sighed in relief that George Orwell’s eponymous vision from his novel hadn’t materialized. Postman warned that it wasn’t Orwell’s future we should be worried about. It was Aldous Huxley’s forecast in Brave New World that seemed to be materializing:

“As Huxley remarked in Brave New World Revisited, the civil libertarians and rationalists who are ever on the alert to oppose tyranny “failed to take into account man’s almost infinite appetite for distractions…  Orwell feared that what we fear will ruin us. Huxley feared that what we desire will ruin us.”

Postman was worried then – 40 years ago – that the news was more entertainment than information. Today, we long for even the kind of journalism that Postman was already warning us about. He would be aghast to see what passes for news now. 

While things unknown to Postman (social media, fake news, even the internet) are throwing a new wrinkle in our downslide into an entertainment induced coma, it’s not exactly new.   This has happened at least once before in history, but you have to go back almost 2000 years to find an example. Near the end of the Western Roman Empire, as it was slipping into decline, the Roman poet Juvenal used a phrase that summed it up – panem et circenses – “bread and circuses”:

“Already long ago, from when we sold our vote to no man, the People have abdicated our duties; for the People who once upon a time handed out military command, high civil office, legions — everything, now restrains itself and anxiously hopes for just two things: bread and circuses.”

Juvenal was referring to the strategy of the Roman emperors to provide free wheat and circus games and other entertainment games to gain political power. In an academic article from 2000, historian Paul Erdkamp said the ploy was a “”briberous and corrupting attempt of the Roman emperors to cover up the fact that they were selfish and incompetent tyrants.”

Perhaps history is repeating itself.

One thing we touched on in the podcast was a noticeable change in the entertainment industry itself. Scarlett Johansenn noticed the 2025 Academy Awards ceremony was a much more muted affair than in years past. There was hardly any political messaging or sermons about how entertainment provided a beacon of hope and justice. In an interview with Vanity Fair  – Johanssen mused that perhaps it’s because almost all the major studies are now owned by Big-Tech Billionaires, “These are people that are funding studios. It’s all these big tech guys that are funding our industry, and funding the Oscars, and so there you go. I guess we’re being muzzled in all these different ways, because the truth is that these big tech companies are completely enmeshed in all aspects of our lives.”

If we have willingly swapped entertainment for reality, and that entertainment is being produced by corporations who profit from addicting as many eyeballs as possible, prospects for the future do not look good.

We should be taking a lesson from what happened to Imperial Rome.

Our Memories Are Our Compass

“You can’t really know where you’re going until you know where you’ve been”

Maya Angelou

Today is Canada Day – the Canadian version of the Fourth of July. In the past decade or so, it’s been a day fraught with some existential angst, as we try to reconcile our feelings of pride with our often-glaring imperfections as Canadians. In a country known for its readiness to apologize, this is perhaps the most Canadian of Canadian holidays – a day made for wondering if we should be saying “we’re sorry.”

 This year, it will be interesting to see how Canada celebrates. As I’ve mentioned before, what is happening south of the border has caused Canadians to have a renewed burst of patriotism and pride. We may not be united on much, but we universally know we don’t want to be the 51st state. No offence (heaven forbid) but we’re good as is, President Trump. Really.

A few days ago, I happened across a little video posted to celebrate Canada. It was a montage of “Heritage Minutes” –little vignettes of our Canadian past produced since 1990 by Historica Canada. This montage was set to a song by another Canadian icon, “It’s a Good Life if You don’t Weaken” by the Tragically Hip. The 4 minute and 29 second video checked all the boxes guaranteed to generate the warm fuzzies for Canadians: Anne of Green Gables (check), the invention of basketball and the telephone (check), the discovery of Insulin (check), the origins of Superman (check), the naming of Winnie the Pooh (check), our contributions in two World Wars (check and check). It was Canadiana distilled; more than maple syrup – which is more of an Eastern Canadian thing. More than poutine, which most Canadians had never heard of until 20 years ago. Maybe on a par with hockey.

But the montage also reminded me of some not so glorious Canadian moments. We were imperfect, in our abhorrent treatment of immigrants in the past – especially the Chinese and Japanese. And our ignoring – and worse – our attempts to irradicate the incredibly rich and diverse Indigenous history and culture because it was inconvenient to our dreams of nation building.

Canada’s history is distinct from that of the U.S.A. In the last half of 19th Century and the beginning of the 20th Century, when immigration started in earnest, we were very much a British Colony. Anyone who was not British was treated as either a necessary evil (providing the manual labor required to build a new country) or as a persona non grata. As for those that preceded us – the Indigenous population of Canada – the British saw them as an inconvenience and potential threat to either be tamed or systematically eradicated.

This – too – is part of Canada’s history. And we have to acknowledge that, because to do so gives us a compass to navigate both the present and future. That montage reminds us that immigration built this country. And Canada’s thousands of years of Indigenous past needs to be recognized so the entire history of our nation can be honestly reconciled. We need to fix our bearings to they read true before we move forward.

Canadians today need to decide what we aspire to be as a nation in the future. And to do that, we need to remember where we’ve been. Do we ignore the fact that we are a nation of immigrants and are so much the richer for it? Do we conveniently forget that there were people here thousands of years before the first European set foot on Canadian soil? We need to fully understand what made Canada what it is – both good and bad – an imperfect country that still happens to be a pretty great place to live.

In the song that the montage is set to, the Tragically Hip’s Gord Downie sings:

In the forest of whispering speakers
Let’s swear that we will
Get with the times
In a current health to stay

But maybe we can do better than just maintain the status quo. If we remember where we’ve been, maybe we can do better in the future than where we are now.

Happy Canada Day!

The Presidential Post-a-Palooza Problem

As of June 3rd of this year, President Donald Trump had posted 2262 times to Truth Social in the132 days since his inauguration. That’s 17 posts per day – or night.  According to a recent article in the Washington Post, the president’s social media use is far exceeding his posting in his first term: “His posting now overshadows even the most explosive Twitter days of his first presidency: He tweeted 14 times on his biggest-posting day in early 2017, the data show — a tenth of the 138 posts his Truth Social account sent on a single day this March.”

According to the White House, this is a good thing: “President Trump is the most transparent president in history and is meeting the American people where they are to directly communicate his policies, message, and important announcements,” said White House Assistant Press Secretary Taylor Rogers.

Transparent? I suppose – as in Saran Wrap transparency – only a few microns thick and unable to stand on its own. But the biggest problem with Trump’s brand of social media transparency is that it is a pinball type of presidentialism – continually launching projectiles just to see what they bump into.

Here’s how this scenario often plays out. Trump sends out many of his missives in the middle of the night. They are posted to Truth Social, the media platform he owns and which he is contractually obligated to post first on. In terms of comparison, X has almost 600 million users, Truth Social has about 1 percent of that – about 6 million. And that is hardly a diverse sampling. LA Times reporter Lorraine Ali dared to spend 24 hours on Truth Social last year, “so you don’t have to.” She found Truth Social to be like “a MAGA town hall in a ventless conference room, where an endless line of folks step up to the mic to share how the world is out to get them.”

Ali went on, “The Truth Social feed I experienced was a mix of swaggering gun talk, typo-filled Bible scripture, violent Biden bashing, nonsensical conspiracy theories and more misguided memes about Jan. 6 “hostages,” trans satanists and murderous migrants than anyone should be subjected to in one day. Or ever.”

This is the audience that is the first stop for Trump’s midnight social media musings. Truth Social is not the place for thoughtful policy statements or carefully crafted communication. Rather, it is a place that laps up posts like the beaut that Trump launched on Memorial Day, which started with: “Happy Memorial Day to all, including the scum that spent the last four years trying to destroy our country through warped radical left minds, who allowed 21,000,000 million people to illegally enter our country, many of them being criminals and the mentally insane.”

He then shortly followed that up by reposting this: “There is no #JoeBiden – executed in 2020. #Biden clones doubles & robotic engineered soulless mindless entities are what you see. >#Democrats don’t know the difference.”

From Truth Social, his posts rapidly move to more mainstream platforms. The Post article plotted the typical course of a Trump “Truth”:

“ ‘His messaging moves in real time from Truth to X, and it spreads just as far if not farther on X than it did when he was tweeting himself on the platform,’ said Darren Linvill, a professor and co-director of the Media Forensics Hub at Clemson University who studies social media.

What’s more, Truth Social’s almost exclusively congenial audience insulates the president from negative responses. ‘His current social media behavior suggests that with time he has been pulled even farther into his own echo chambers,’ Linvill said. ‘Truth Social gives him complete and constant positive feedback.’”

By the time dawn breaks over the White House, these missives have been echoing through the echo chambers of social media for at least a couple hours. Trump has received endorsement from the Truth Social crowd and the posts are out in the world, demanding to be dealt with. This is not even government by fiat. It’s as if you woke from a fever dream at 3 in the morning and decided that the two-headed dragon that was eating your Froot Loops needed to be taken out by an all-out military operation. And you were the President. And you could make it happen. And the Two-Headed Dragon was Iran – or Greenland – or Canada.

It is a quantum leap beyond insane that this is how government policy is currently being determined. Even more unbelievable is the fact that this has now been normalized by the same White House spokesperson Taylor Rogers, who said “President Trump was elected in a historic landslide victory and even won the popular vote — no further validation is needed.”

OMG – yes Taylor, further validation is needed. Desperately! These posts are determining the future of the world and everyone who lives in it. They should be given great thought. Or – at least – more thought than that generated by the mind-altering after-effects of Big Mac eaten at 1:30 in the morning

The Tesla Cybertruck’s Branding Blow-Up

The inexact science of branding is nowhere more evident that in the case of the Tesla Cybertruck, which looks like it might usurp the Edsel’s title as the biggest automotive flop in history.

First, a little of the Tesla backstory. No, it wasn’t founded by Elon Musk. It was founded in 2003 by Martin Eberhard and Marc Tarpenning. Musk came in a year later as a money man. Soon, he had forced Eberhard and Tarpenning out of the company. But their DNA remained, notably in the design and engineering of the hugely popular Tesla Model S, Model X and Model 3. These designs drove Tesla to capture over 50% of the electric car market and are straight line extensions of the original technology developed by Eberhard, Tarpenning and their initial team

Musk is often lauded as an eccentric genius in the mold of Steve Jobs, who had his fingers in every aspect of Tesla. While he was certainly influential, it’s not in the way most people think. The Model S, Model X and Model 3 soon became plagued by production issues, failed software updates, product quality red flags and continually failing to meet to meet Musk’s wildly optimistic and often delusional predictions, both in terms of sales and promised updates. Those things all happened on Musk’s watch.  Even with all this, Tesla was the darling of investors and media, driving it to be the most valuable car company in the world.

Then came the Cybertruck.

Introduced in 2019, the Cybertruck did have Musk’s fingerprints all over it. The WTF design, the sheer impracticality of a truck in name only, a sticker price nearly double of what Musk originally promised and a host of quality issues including body panels that have a tendency to fall off have caused sales to not even come close to projections.

In its first year of sales (2024), the Cybertruck sold 40,000 units, about 16% of what Musk predicted annual sales could be. That makes it a bigger fail than the Edsel, which sold 63,000 units against a target of 200,000 sales in its introductory year – 1958. The Edsel did worse in 1959 and was yanked from the market in 1960. The Cybertruck is sinking even faster. In the first quarter of this year, only 6406 Cybertrucks were sold, half the number sold in the same quarter a year ago. There are over 10,000 Cybertrucks on Tesla lots in the U.S., waiting for buyers that have yet to show up.

But it’s not just that the Cybertruck is a flawed product. Musk has destroyed Tesla’s brand in a way that can only be marvelled at. His erratic actions have managed to generate feelings of visceral hate in a huge segment of the market and that hate has found a visible target in the Cybertruck. It has become the symbol of Elon Musk’s increasingly evident meltdown.

I remember my first reaction when I heard that Musk had jumped on the MAGA bandwagon. “How the hell,” I thought, “does that square with the Tesla brand?” That brand, pre-Musk-meltdown and pre-Cybertruck, was a car for the environmentally conscious who had a healthy bank account – excitingly leading edge but not dangerously so. Driving a Tesla made a statement that didn’t seem to be in the MAGA lexicon at all. It was all very confusing.

But I think it’s starting to make a little more sense. That brand was built by vehicles that Musk had limited influence over. Sure, he took full credit for the brand, but just like company he took over, it’s initial form and future direction was determined by others.

The Cybertruck was a different story. That was very much Musk’s baby. And just like his biological ones (14 and counting), it shows all the hallmarks of Musk’s “bull in a China shop” approach to life. He lurches from project to project, completely tone-deaf to the implications of his actions. He is convinced that his genius is infallible. If the Tesla brand is a reflection of Musk, then the Cybertruck gives us a much truer picture. It shows what Tesla would have been if there had never been a Martin Eberhard and Marc Tarpenning and Musk was the original founder.

To say that the Cybertruck is “off brand” for Tesla is like saying that the Titanic had a tiny mishap. But it’s not that Musk made a mistake in his brand stewardship. It’s that he finally had the chance to build a brand that he believed in.

The Whole US – Canada Thing – “IMHO”

“Our old relationship with the United States, a relationship based on steadily increasing integration, is over. The system of open global trade anchored by the United States – a system that Canada has relied on since the second world war, a system that while not perfect has helped deliver prosperity for a country for decades – is over”

Mark Carney, the New Prime Minister of Canada

I hope the above is not true. Because I’m not ready to sever my relationships with a whole bunch of Americans that I truly love and respect. Maybe that’s denialism, or maybe it’s just my hope that someday – eventually – cooler heads will prevail, and we’ll put this current spat behind us.

There was a good stretch of my life where I spent almost as much time in the U.S. as I did in Canada. I crossed the border repeatedly every month. I was on a first name basis with some of the U.S. Customs and Border officials at SeaTac airport in Seattle. I ran out of visa stamp pages on my Canadian passport and had to get more added. Many people in the search industry at the time just assumed I was American. Some back here in Canada even told me I had picked up an American accent somewhere along the way.

In that time, I made many wonderful friends, who came from every corner of the US:  Boston, Atlanta, Sacramento, Minneapolis, Chicago, New York, Hartford, Phoenix, Palo Alto, San Diego and Seattle.

I have to admit, my trips to the U.S. have dropped dramatically since November 2016. Part of that is that I no longer need to go to the U.S. for business. But part of it is also just my emotional distress, especially in the past few months. One of the analogies that really seemed to resonate with me is that the current US-Canadian relationship is akin to a messy divorce, and we’re the kids caught in the consequences of that. Going to the U.S. right now would be like going to a family reunion after your mom and dad have just split up. You don’t want to have to deal with the inevitable awkwardness and potential confrontations.

I’m not alone in my reluctance to cross the border. Travel from Canada to the U.S. has plummeted this year. According to U.S. Customs and Border Protection, Canadian entries into the U.S. fell by 12.5% in February and dropped a further 18% in March.  A lot of Canadians have opted out of U.S travel, probably for many of the same reasons that I have.

But I think that’s part of the problem. As awkward as a conversation maybe between a Canadian and an American, whatever their politics, we need more of them, not less. Yes, there is a rift and damage has been done to one of the most successful international alliances in history, but as any counsellor will tell you, healing any relationship requires communication.

Also, I’ve never seen so much media attention from the U.S. turned towards Canada. Half of America seems to have chosen us as a beacon of democracy, truth and justice. While I appreciate that, I feel I have to level with you, my American friends and cousins; we are far from perfect. In fact, I have grave concerns about the future of Canada. We have our own extreme political polarization that has to be recognized and dealt with. It may be a little more polite and nuanced than what is happening currently in the U.S., but it is no less real.

We still have at least two provinces (Alberta and Quebec) who have political leaders that feel their futures would be better outside the Canadian dominion than within it. We have large segments of our population that feel unheard by our current government. We have many acute crises, including housing, a rising cost of living, broken promises to our indigenous community, an environment ravaged by climate change and many others. It’s just that the current economic crisis caused by Trump’s tariffs and vocal sabre rattling about becoming a 51st State has –  well – “Trumped” them all.

While we’re talking about Donald Trump, I have to admit that he does have a point – Canada has taken advantage of America’s willingness to protect the world. We have fallen well short of our 2% defense spending commitment to NATO since the end of the Cold War (we currently spend about 1.37% of our GDP). We have always enjoyed the benefits of cozying up to our American big brother. And in return, we have often repaid that with our own blend of passive aggressive sarcasm and a quiet feeling of moral superiority that is as much a part of the Canadian identity as hockey and Tim Horton’s coffee.

Being Canadian, I feel the need to apologize for that. I’m sorry.

Look. We’re in a tough spot right now. I get that. But I also believe this is not the time to retreat behind our own fences and refuse to talk to each other. This is the time to recognize how special what we had was. Emotions are running high but at some point, I’m fervently hoping this isn’t a permanent split.

Maybe we’re just taking a break. If you want to talk about it, I’m here.

Can Innovation Survive in Trump’s America?

If there was one thing that has sparked America’s success, it has been innovation. That has been the engine that has driven the U.S. forward for at least the last several decades. Yes, the U.S. has natural resources. Yes, at one time the U.S. led the world in manufacturing output. But in their pursuit of adding value to economic output to maximize profit, the U.S. has moved beyond resource extraction and manufacturing to the far-right end of the value chain, where the American economic engine relies heavily on innovation.

Donald Trump can talk all he wants about making America great again by bringing back manufacturing jobs that have migrated elsewhere in the world (a goal that many, including the Economic Policy Institute, feel is delusion, at least using Trump’s approach), but if innovation dies in the process, the U.S. loses. Game over. It’s innovation that now fuels the American Dream.

Given that, MAGA adherents should be careful what they wish for. The Great America they envision is a place where it may be impossible for that kind of innovation to survive.

World class innovation needs an ecosystem, where there is adequate funding for start-ups, a friendly regulatory framework, a robust research environment and an open-door policy for innovative immigrants from other countries – all of which the US has historically had in spades. And – theoretically at least – it’s an ecosystem that Trump is promising high tech and why the tech broligarchy has been quick to court him. But like so many things with Trump, the reality will fall far short of his promises. In fact, he will likely stop innovation in its tracks and send U.S. ingenuity reeling backwards.

Next to the regulatory and economic inputs required for innovation – and perhaps more important than both – the biggest requirement for innovation is an environment that fosters divergent thinking. Study after study has shown that innovation lives best in an environment that fosters collaboration, invites different perspectives and provides a safe space for experimentation. All those things can be found in exactly the opposite of the direction in which the U.S. is currently headed.

Each year, the World Intellectual Property Organization publishes their Global Innovation Index. In 2024, the U.S. was in third spot, behind Switzerland and Sweden. To understand how innovation flourishes, it’s worth looking at what the most innovative countries have in common. Of the top ten (the others are Singapore, the U.K., South Korea, Finland, Netherlands, Germany and Denmark), almost all score the highest marks from the Economist Democracy Index for the strength of their democracy. Singapore is still struggling towards full democracy, and the U.S. is now considered to be a “flawed democracy”, in real danger of becoming an authoritarian regime.

The European contenders also receive very high marks for their social values and enshrining personal rights and freedoms. Those are exactly the things currently being dismantled in America.

There is only one country which is defined as an authoritarian regime that made the top 25 of the Global Innovation Index. China sits in the 11th spot. This brings us to a good question, “Can innovation happen in an authoritarian regime?” The answer, I believe, is a qualified yes. But it’s innovation we may not recognize, and which may turn out to be a lot less attractive than we thought.

I happened to visit China right around the time that Google was trying to move into the huge Chinese Market. Their main competition was Baidu, the home-grown search engine. I was talking to a Google engineer about how they were competing with Baidu. He said it was almost impossible to match the speed at which they could roll out new features. The reason wasn’t that they were more innovative. It was because they innovated through brute force. They could throw hundreds of programmers at an issue and hard code it at the interface level, rather than take the Western approach of embedding core functionality in the base code in a more elegant and sustainable approach. The Chinese could afford to endlessly code and recode.

It’s Brute Force Innovation that you’ll find in authoritarian regimes and dictatorships. It’s what the Soviets used to compete in the space race. It’s what Nazi Germany used when they developed rocket science in a desperate bid to survive World War II. It is innovation dictated by the regime, innovating in prioritized areas by sheer force despite the fact that the typical underpinnings of innovation – creative freedom, divergent thinking, the security needed to experiment and fail – have been eliminated.

If you look at the playbook Trump seems to be following – akin to the one Victor Orbán used in Hungary (ranked 36th on the Global Innovation Index) or Putin’s Russia (ranked 59th) – there appears to be  little hope for the U.S. to retain its world dominance in innovation.

The Quaint Concept of Borders

According to a recent Leger poll, one in five Americans would like their state to secede and join Canada. In contrast, according to the same poll, only one in 10 Canadians would like to see Canada become the 51st State.

Of course, no one takes either suggestion very seriously, except perhaps the President of the United States. And, given the current state of things, that job title is a little ridiculous. Those States are probably less united than they have been at any time since the American Civil War.

All this talk about borders does make a good Facebook meme though. You might have seen it – under the title “Problem Solved” there’s a map of North American with the Canadian border redrawn to extend down the east and west coast to include Washington, Oregon, California, New York, New Jersey and The New England States. Minnesota also gets to become part of the Great White North.

But – even if we took the suggestion seriously – does redrawing borders really solve any problem? Let’s assume that Canada really did become part of the US. It would be a “big, beautiful state,” according to Donald Trump. There have been a few that have pointed out that that state, with our 40 million potential voters, would probably vote overwhelmingly against Trump. Again, according to Canadian pollster Leger, only about 12% of Canadians support Trump.

While we’re redrawing the map of the world, even oceans can’t get in the way. Here in Canada, we are rushing to realign with Europe and its markets. The idea has even been floated that Canada should join the European Union.  Our new prime minister, Mark Carney, has said we have more in common with Europe and the values found there than we do with our American neighbors to the south.

But again, we use the faulty logic of Canadians, Americans or Europeans being identified as a cohesive bloc defined by a border. The recent rush of patriotism aside, Canadians rarely speak with one voice. For example, support for Trump runs highest in Alberta, where 23% of the province’s voters support him. He’s least popular in Canada’s Atlantic provinces, where support dips to 8%

Or let’s hop across the border to the state closest to me – Washington. If you take the state in aggregate, it is a blue state by almost 20 points. But again, that designation depends on an aggregation of votes within a territory defined by a fairly arbitrary border. If you look at Washington on a county-by-county basis, it’s hardly a cohesive voting bloc. Yes, the urban centers of Seattle and Olympia went heavily for Kamala Harris (74% in King County) but eastern Washington is a very different story. There in many counties, for every voter that chose Harris, 3 chose Trump. Ideologically, a resident of Pend Orielle County, Washington has much more in common with someone from Bonner County, which lies just across the border in Idaho, than they do with someone from Jefferson County, which lies on the west coast of Washington.

My point is this: given the polarization of our society, it’s almost impossible to draw a line anywhere on a map and think that it defines the people within that line in any identifiable way. Right now, nowhere on earth defines this more starkly than the United States. Because of the borders of the U.S. and the political structures that determine who leads the people within those borders, almost 2/3rds of Americans lives are being determined by a man they didn’t vote for. In fact, a big percentage of those 2/3rds are vehemently opposed to their President and his policies. How does that make any sense?

Borders were necessary where our survival was tied to a specific location and the resources to be found within that location. This forced a commonality on those that lived within those boundaries. They ate the same food, drank the same water, tilled the same fields, worked at the same factory, shopped at the same stores, attended the same church and their children went to the same schools.

But our digital world has lost much of that commonality. Online, we are defined by how we think, not where we live. This creates a new definition of “tribe” and, by extension, tribal territories. The divides between us now are based on differences in beliefs, not geographical obstacles. And the gap between our beliefs is getting wider and wider. This leaves the concept of a border threatened as something that is becoming increasingly anachronistic. Borders define something that is becoming less and less real and more and more problematic as the people who live in a state or country find less and less in common with their fellow citizens.  As Scottish journalist James Crawford says in his book, The Edge of the Plain: How Borders Make and Break Our World, the tension is usually felt more acutely on those arbitrary borders: “Wherever there are borders … that’s where you are going to find the most concentrated injustice.”

This redefining of our world as it decouples from the concept of “place” will place more and more pressure on the old idea of a border defining a place and a common ideology.  When there is less cohesivity between those living within the border than there is between ideologically aligned factions spread across the globe, we must wonder how to manage this given our current political structures based on the foundation of a common territory. This is particularly true for democracies, where you get a whipsaw backlash between the right and left as the two factions grow further and further apart. That prognosis is not a good one. As Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt said in their book How Democracies Die, “Democracies rarely survive extreme partisanship.”