The following is a guest column by Darrell Dunn, Publisher, The Weekly Bean.
The recently announced departure of Steven Guilbeault from the House of Commons is, in many
respects, the last high-profile vestige of the Justin Trudeau brand of progressive insanity that has
been firmly ensconced in Ottawa for the better part of a decade. I say “in many respects” because
there are certainly others still wandering the halls of power, busily influencing social-engineering
policy and helpfully informing Canadians what we can and cannot think, say, believe, drive,
heat, eat, or aspire to. The problem was never really the underlying issues themselves. Few
reasonable people object to concepts such as environmental stewardship, conservation, or
equality before the law. The problem was the relentless insistence that every issue be viewed
through the lens of ideological purity, moral certainty, and virtue-signaling righteousness.
That approach has managed to alienate almost the entirety of Western Canada, including many
people who actually support the stated objectives. It turns out that being constantly lectured by
self-appointed moral superiors is not a particularly effective way of building consensus.
Guilbeault, arriving on the heels of Environment Minister Catherine McKenna—known
affectionately in some circles as “Climate Barbie”—became the poster child for Trudeau’s
favorite governing strategy: elite-splaining. The formula was remarkably simple. First, assume
the average Canadian is hopelessly uninformed. Second, conclude that only enlightened
progressives possess the wisdom necessary to chart the nation’s course. Third, dismiss
disagreement as ignorance, selfishness, or moral deficiency. Finally, implement policies
regardless of whether the people affected by them support them.
Under this model, a second-generation political prince with the intellectual depth of a finger
bowl could confidently dictate a personal agenda of progressive experimentation to a country
stretching from the Atlantic to the Pacific. If Canadians objected, the answer was not to
reconsider the policy. The answer was to explain it again—more slowly this time.
The results have been difficult to miss. Ten years of ideological governance have succeeded in
weakening Canada’s resource economy, eroding investor confidence, and transforming Western
alienation from an occasional political complaint into a genuine and growing political
movement. One does not have to support separatism to recognize that Ottawa has spent a decade
pouring gasoline on the fire and then expressing surprise that things became hot.
Steven Guilbeault was selected as the chief executioner of the Canadian resource sector, and to
his credit, he performed the role with remarkable enthusiasm. The Trudeau government seemed
almost entirely uninterested in the constitutional realities that govern Canada. Sections 91 and 92
of the Constitution clearly divide federal and provincial powers. This is not particularly
controversial. In fact, the Supreme Court of Canada effectively reminded Ottawa of this reality
when it ruled that the federal Impact Assessment Act—often referred to by critics as the “No
More Pipelines Act”—represented an unconstitutional intrusion into provincial jurisdiction.
Most governments, after receiving such a rebuke from the highest court in the land, might pause
for reflection. Not this one. The response appeared to be a collective shrug followed by a
determination to continue as though the Court had merely offered a friendly suggestion. Ottawa
carried on regulating, restricting, and interfering as if constitutional limits were little more than
optional guidelines.
Blind ideology is a fascinating phenomenon. It possesses an almost magical ability to ignore
consequences. Somewhere along the line it apparently never occurred to the climate crusaders
that if you slaughter the Golden Goose on Sunday, there may be a shortage of golden eggs by
Monday morning. Canada’s resource industries have generated enormous wealth, funded public
services, and supported hundreds of thousands of families. Yet they were increasingly treated as
a moral embarrassment rather than an economic blessing.
Canadians were repeatedly told that destroying conventional energy production was a small price
to pay for saving the planet. This argument was advanced despite the awkward reality that
Canada contributes only a tiny fraction of global greenhouse gas emissions and possesses vast
forests that absorb enormous quantities of carbon. Nevertheless, the Trudeau-Guilbeault doctrine
maintained that Canada could somehow lead the world to environmental salvation by
handicapping its own economy while major emitters continued business as usual.
The solution, apparently, was the mythical green economy—a wondrous future in which
prosperity would be generated by technologies that, in many cases, have yet to be fully
developed, commercialized, or proven economically viable. Faith, after all, is easier than
mathematics.
What we are witnessing today, whether in Western Canadian alienation or the MAGA movement
in the United States, is not merely a rejection of specific policies. It is a rejection of arrogance.
People are tired of being lectured by elites who assume disagreement is evidence of ignorance.
They are weary of governments that view citizens not as participants in democracy but as
subjects requiring correction.
In Canada, that arrogance manifested itself through carbon taxes, regulatory expansion,
constitutional overreach, and a seemingly endless campaign to reshape the economy according to
ideological preferences rather than practical realities. Western Canadians were expected to accept
the loss of jobs, investment, and opportunity in exchange for the satisfaction of knowing they
were helping Ottawa achieve its vision of moral superiority.
The departure of Steven Guilbeault does not erase that legacy. It merely removes one of its most
recognizable faces. The resentment, the alienation, and the distrust that accumulated over the last
decade will remain long after the moving boxes have been packed. Rebuilding that trust will
require something Ottawa has shown precious little interest in during the last decade: humility.
Read more: Guest Column – Justice: The System We Starve Until It Fails
