There was a time, not so long ago, when Canadians lined up — not for bread, not for jobs, but for CERB cheques. It was 2020, and Trudeau’s government had just unleashed a financial tidal wave: a $90 billion deficit, cheered on by the desperate and the distracted. It was “necessary,” they said. A lifeline. A temporary measure in extraordinary times.
But temporary measures have a way of becoming permanent habits in Ottawa. The public, numbed by fear and soothed by free money, barely questioned it. Why would they? The narrative was wrapped tight with a bow of excuses: COVID made us do it. Supply chains snapped. Climate change drove up food prices. Russia lit a match under the energy markets. And so the government kept spending, and we kept swallowing the justifications.
Fast forward. The pandemic has faded into political memory. The climate crisis remains a convenient catch-all, and Russia is yesterday’s headline. But here’s what’s coming: Mark Carney — former central banker turned globalist darling — is being primed as Trudeau’s successor. And when Carney starts pushing even bigger deficits, the excuses are going to sound a lot more hollow.
The frightening part? They won’t need a pandemic this time.
We’re entering a new phase — one where economic mismanagement isn’t a side effect of crisis, but the crisis itself. It’ll be cloaked in slick language: “green transitions,” “inclusive growth,” “resilient futures.” Words that sound noble until you’re staring down double-digit inflation, interest rates that break your back, and a housing market locked in the jaws of speculation.
What excuse will they peddle when Carney’s deficits dwarf Trudeau’s? When there’s no virus to point to, no war to scapegoat?
Will it be the “equity emergency”? The “AI disruption crisis”? Or maybe just a shrug, followed by another slick speech about “building back better”?
Make no mistake — this isn’t just about red ink on a ledger. It’s about control. Deficits are power. Every borrowed dollar is a thread in a web that tightens around the average Canadian, making us more dependent, more distracted, more docile.
The scariest part? Most won’t notice it happening until it’s too late. Because the theatre is so well-lit, the actors so rehearsed, and the audience — too busy scrolling, surviving, and hoping someone else is paying attention.
But we are. And we won’t forget.
