The Palm Oil Paradox: Just One of Sustainable Agriculture's Dirty Little Secrets

In terms of breadth and scale, perhaps the grandest of all the UN’s Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO)’s efforts in the interest of sustainable agriculture has been in the promotion and production of palm oil, a substance used in a variety of processed foods, as well as non-edible products and, to a lesser extent, as a source of biofuel. Of the countries involved in the palm oil industry, Indonesia heads the list as the top exporter, followed by Malaysia; together, the two countries produce 80% of all the world’s palm oil. [1] Elsewhere, the FAO has managed to introduce a more cold-resistant hybrid of palm tree to be grown in Kenya, which has seen encouraging results: “The potential of the hybrids is considerable,” the project’s website states. “Fruit can be harvested from three-year-old palms, and the palms reach maturity at about six years, if well tended. Mature palms yield about 20 tonnes of fresh fruit bunches per hectare a year, or 4 tonnes of oil. The palms’ productive life is about 25 years.” Moreover, we are told, the cultivation of palm oil is of ecological benefit: “Oil palm is environment-friendly,” according to one of the project’s “key technical officers,” Peter Griffee. “It doesn’t compete with native vegetation or food crops in western Kenya. There’s no need to turn the soil over every year, so there’s less erosion and soil compaction.” [2] But wherever it is grown, the cultivation of palm oil has been frequently touted by the FAO and others as a means of combating poverty, either by providing employment on large plantations to locals whom are needed for the labour intensive task of land-clearing and harvesting, or by its use as a cash crop for smaller, typically family-run farms. [3] In this respect, the enterprise might not sound like such a bad idea – so, where’s the catch?

Unfortunately, in the years since the aforementioned project, perspectives on the environmental-friendliness of palm oil production have shifted massively in the opposing direction. Writes Natasha Gilbert for Nature, “Palm oil was once touted as a social and environmental panacea — a sustainable food crop, a biofuel that could help to cut greenhouse-gas emissions and a route out of poverty for small-scale farmers.” However, more recent research would suggest that not only does large-scale production of the crop lead to “damaging deforestation” in the countries concerned, “the oil’s use as a biofuel offers only marginal benefits for mitigating climate change” — in fact, according to tests conducted by the United States Environmental Protection Agency, the use of biofuel emits just 11-17% less greenhouse gas emissions than diesel over an entire ‘life-cycle’ of use. [4] By all appearances, the environmental movement’s honeymoon with palm oil would seem to be over — within the industry itself, however, not everyone seems willing to let go.

The Roundtable on Sustainable Palm Oil (RSPO), a lobby group composed of various corporate stakeholders in the palm oil industry, seeks to “transform markets” and “make sustainable palm oil the norm” by leading the charge on standard-setting and monitoring of sustainable production practices within the industry. At the time of writing, the RSPO’s board of governors includes representatives of palm oil production and processing companies, in addition to those from the manufacturing and retail sectors, companies such as Unilever and Procter & Gamble, and other non-profit organizations like the WWF and the World Resources Institute (WRI). [5]

At any rate, they certainly have their work cut out for them. As alluded to previously, a great deal of the controversy that has emerged over the cultivation of palm oil trees has to do with the large amounts of natural forest that need to be cleared in order to make way for the plantations. This has consequences both for the ecological stability of an area as well as for its animal inhabitants, such as orangutans and other endangered species resident in Southeast Asia, where most of the world’s palm oil is produced. Furthermore, resident respondents in one survey of an oil-producing region in Malaysia expressed concerns that the processing mills in the area were polluting the local water supply, in addition to noting the loss of the natural forest as a valuable resource for hunting game and gathering wild fruits. [6] This latter development is of particular concern to the many households who did not own the land they customarily used for subsistence agriculture; due to the nature of Malaysian property laws, these families did not need to be consulted regarding the conversion of this land into plantations — indeed, as the researchers note, seventy-seven percent of the respondents were not given any advance warning, with the remainder being notified of the change by village authorities. As such, these households were now forced to rely much more on hunting and gathering within the shrinking forests as a main food source. [7] With all of this in mind, the picture becomes more complicated: is it possible to change the inner workings of the industry in a manner that reduces the negative effects of palm oil cultivation, as outlined above, while still retaining the positive benefits to local communities?

A cursory review of the RSPO’s “Principles and Criteria for Certification” for large-scale producers appears promising: contained therein are guidelines and indicators not only for ensuring better environmental practices, but as well for taking into consideration those households and communities that may be negatively affected by plantation activities, such as including them in consultations despite a legal lack of land ownership. On the other hand, and despite the RSPO having been founded in 2004, there are presently no similar standards or guidelines in place for smaller-scale operations — this is certainly problematic, considering that these ‘smallholder’ palm oil producers make up between 35-40% of the total plantation land in Indonesia and Malaysia alone. [8] Nevertheless, the mere existence of industry standards is surely a step in the right direction. Now, the question is whether or not these standards are being reliably enforced and upheld.

In November of 2012, the International Labour Rights Forum (ILRF), alongside the local NGO Sawit Watch, visited three RSPO-certified plantations in Indonesia with the hope of finding out just that. At all three locations, the field researchers spoke with workers who shared their experiences, from which many frightening commonalities began to emerge: low compensation for the amount and intensity of labour provided; parents having to bring their children with them to work on plantations in order to meet the set harvesting quotas; little or no job security or employee benefits in any respect; and overall poor and/or hazardous working conditions, including frequent exposure to corrosive chemicals without proper protective gear or, when needed, even basic medical care. One worker describes being lured to his place of employment with promises of a good salary and paid accommodation, only to discover on arrival that he would receive no housing, no food, and be paid considerably less than promised for work performed in extremely poor conditions — now, being unable to cover his family’s expenses and forced into taking on debt with the plantation’s on-site commissary, the man has no choice but to continue working there in order to pay it off. At a different site, a ‘casual’ worker (in essence, a labourer who is paid less than a permanent worker, receives no benefits, works unstable hours and may be fired at any time) claims that some of her fellow workers will attempt to bribe the site’s foreman with food and cigarettes in hopes that they will be selected to work a particular shift. [9] 

At the time of writing, only some of the abuses observed by Salit Watch and the ILRF appear to have been dealt with by the RSPO in any meaningful manner. Among the parent companies of the three plantations visited — Wilmar International, Socfin, and Salim Ivomas Pratama Tbk (SIMP) — only SIMP no longer appears on the RSPO’s roster of members. In this case, the ILRF and two other NGOs eventually filed a formal complaint with the RSPO over conditions discovered during yet another visit of the PT Lonsum plantation, one of the three investigated previously by the ILRF and Sawit Watch; a subsequent RSPO-led investigation of the site later confirmed their findings. Following the SIMP’s failure to meet the conditions of the decision rendered by the Complaints Panel, the RSPO terminated the company’s membership and nullified their certification in February 2019. [10] As for Socfin, at the time of writing there appear to have been no formal complaints lodged with the RSPO (according to their database) regarding labour practices on their plantations to date. [11]

Meanwhile, Wilmar International, one of the largest shareholders in the global palm oil industry, has continued to generate controversy in more recent years: a 2016 investigation by Amnesty International (AI) uncovered multiple instances of children on Wilmar-owned plantations engaged in labour contrary to both Indonesian and international law; this, too, seems to have resulted from the children’s parents being unable to meet their harvesting quotas without their assistance, which for some of the workers could mean a reduction in their pay, irrespective of the actual hours worked. As the report explains:

The targets that workers have to achieve are set by individual companies, and appear to be set arbitrarily to meet companies’ needs rather than being based on a realistic calculation of how much workers can do in their working hours. [ … ] Workers can face deductions of their salary for failing to meet their targets, in some cases leading to their salaries falling below the minimum wage, or lose out on ‘bonus’ payments despite working long hours in excess of the working hours limit. Workers are rarely paid overtime for extra hours worked. [12]

Some of the children interviewed claimed to have begun working on the plantations at as young as eight years old. [13] In a statement responding to the findings presented to them by AI, Wilmar claims to have taken all of the necessary steps to remind parents not to bring their children to work with them, and to conduct regular patrols for enforcement — but, as AI points out, this response entirely ignores “the impact of low wages and the use of targets and penalties for certain tasks as causative factors that lead to parents bringing their children to help them with work.” [14] Just as the previous investigation conducted by the ILRF and Sawit Watch had found, some of the sites surveyed did not bother providing proper training or protective gear to workers handling hazardous chemicals; in one instance, a worker described having been splashed in the eyes with a particularly strong herbicide, “leading to severe damage in her eye and optic nerve.” [15]

Not only is Wilmar still a member of the RSPO, a number of Wilmar’s customers are as well — two of them, Unilever and Procter & Gamble, as mentioned previously, sit on the RSPO’s board of directors. With this in mind, it seems quite unlikely that the RSPO’s internal governance is completely unaware of the multiple allegations of this nature that have been levied against Wilmar. What kind of implications do such revelations have, not only for the palm oil industry, but for the very notion of ‘sustainable agriculture’ more generally? The entire, central idea behind the group’s existence has been, ostensibly, to establish standards for sustainable business practices within the industry, and to certify those who have been deemed to meet them: if consumers are to willingly go out and purchase products stamped with the RSPO’s seal, they are doing so with the belief that nowhere along the production chain was the palm oil within the product produced in a manner that violates the sustainability mantra – which, we may reasonably assume, includes respect for labour laws and regulations, at the very least. As it presently stands, it appears that all such a seal provides is the justification for charging a higher price for the end-product — done properly, it is generally more expensive to manufacture products in a non-abusive (regarding both workers and the environment) manner, but this is of course hard for one to verify on the spot when considering whether or not to make a purchase; hence, the alleged point of RSPO certification to start with. With no enforcement of their own standards, however, consumers might well be better off purchasing an uncertified product at a lower price — if they’re being produced in the same, ‘unsustainable’ manner, what’s the point in paying more?

We might wonder how the UN feels about its sustainability ‘branding’ being appropriated by the RSPO for such dishonest and, frankly, downright abusive practices. Well, in 2014, the UNEP nevertheless signed a memorandum of understanding with the RSPO, aiming to “raise the global awareness of sustainable palm oil and generate market demand for an important commodity that has the potential to play a key role in preserving the Earth’s biodiversity.” Said the former Executive Director of the UNEP, Achim Steiner, in a press release, “The RSPO deserves our support in their commitment to produce palm oil sustainably.” [16] But if RSPO-certified companies continue to benefit directly from the exploitation of these workers, such an ‘understanding’ is effectively meaningless: all they are doing is trying to “generate market demand” for a phony product. Even if it were the case that every other RSPO-certified company adheres faithfully to the organization’s standards, this failure to adequately address the severe infractions committed by one of its most prominent members — Wilmar International — completely discredits the supposed value that such certification purports to generate. The sustainability brand, at least as far as the RSPO is concerned, appears to be just another form of marketing: a means of tricking consumers into purchasing products they believe to be more ethically produced, when it is in reality the exact same product in fancier, ‘sustainable’ packaging.

Notes & References

[1] Sonja Vermeulen and Nathalie Goad, Towards Better Practice in Smallholder Palm Oil Production, Natural Resource Issues Series No. 5 (London: International Institute for Environment and Development, 2006), 4.

[2] Teresa Buerkle, “Hybrid oil palms bear fruit in western Kenya,” FAO Newsroom, November 24, 2003, http://www.fao.org/english/newsroom/field/2003/1103_oilpalm.htm (accessed August 21, 2019).

[3] Vermeulen and Goad, Towards Better Practice, 10.

[4] Natasha Gilbert, “Palm-oil boom raises conservation concerns,” Nature 487, no. 7405 (July 5, 2012): 14-15.

[5] “Our Organization,” Roundtable on Sustainable Palm Oil, n.d., https://www.rspo.org/about/our-organisation (accessed August 21, 2019).

[6] A. A. B. Dayang Norwana, R. Kunjappan, M. Chin, G. Schoneveld, L. Potter and R. Andriani, The local impact of oil palm expansion in Malaysia: An assessment based on a case study in Sabah State, Working Paper 78 (Bogor, Indonesia: Center for International Forestry Research, 2011), 8.

[7] Ibid., 12-13.

[8] Vermeulen and Goad, Towards Better Practice, 8.

[9] International Labour Rights Forum and Sawit Watch, Empty Assurances (Washington, D.C.: ILRF, 2013).

[10] “RSPO Secretariat’s Statement on Complaints Panel Decision Regarding PT Salim Ivomas Pratama Tbk,” Roundtable on Sustainable Palm Oil, March 1, 2019, https://www.rspo.org/news-and-events/news/rspo-secretariats-statement-on-complaints-panel-decision-regarding-pt-salim-ivomas-pratama-tbk (accessed August 22, 2019).

[11] That said, according to American policy think tank The Oakland Institute, Socfin’s land-leasing practices have come under fire from locals in Sierra Leone. See: The Oakland Institute, Understanding Land Investment Deals in Africa: Socfin Land Investment in Sierra Leone (Oakland: The Oakland Institute, 2012).

[12] Amnesty International, The Great Palm Oil Scandal: Labour Abuses Behind Big Brand Names — Executive Summary (London: Amnesty International, 2016), 5.

[13] Ibid.

[14] Ibid., 6.

[15] Ibid., 8.

[16] “UNEP and Roundtable on Sustainable Palm Oil Sign New Agreement,” United Nations Environment Programme, November 14, 2014, https://www.unenvironment.org/news-and-stories/press-release/unep-and-roundtable-sustainable-palm-oil-sign-new-agreement (accessed August 22, 2019).

COP25: A Canary in the (Decommissioned) Coal Mine?

Just before Christmas, as COP25 wound down to a close, a fun little bit of light reading found it’s way into my inbox, courtesy of the International Institute for Sustainable Development’s mailing list. The article, titled “Deciding What to Think of the First Four Years of SDG Implementation,” tells us all a person really needs to know about the slow-motion car crash that some have taken to calling “climate politics”.

So — four years and several billions of dollars later, now appears to be the right time for our Green Overlords to take a step back and assess whether or not anything of value has resulted from these efforts. Thus, after decades of doing seemingly little more than publishing an endless slew of ‘reports’ on how nothing is getting done, it was apparently necessary to commission yet another of these reports for it to be recognized that this is not exactly what most might call a “winning strategy.” Of course, we need not get our hopes up that this particular report will have any more of an effect on the execution of said strategy than any of its predecessors.

Provided the reader is at least somewhat familiar with the type of people we’re dealing with, here, the results — or rather, lack thereof — ought to come as little surprise: “[W]ith a few exceptions,” we are told, “[the] SDGs have very rarely been used to challenge practices, and have not triggered the transformative project they promised.” Say it ain’t so!

Moreover, “It must be acknowledged that the adoption of such an ambitious agreement was possible only because it does not require concessions or a change in behavior from anyone in particular.” Indeed, it is much easier to talk a big game than it is to play it — an important lesson that most of us have internalized before puberty. One has to wonder why those who seem the least familiar with the basic tenets of human nature nevertheless see themselves fit to micromanage all of humanity.

It isn’t all bad news, though — the report notes that the SDGs have been name-dropped by various politicians and diplomats more frequently in 2019 than they had been in previous years. If only we lived in the fictional universe of Beetlejuice, and all you had to do was say “sustainable development” three times fast and then — Poof! — results! We’d have reached the promised utopia decades ago!

In all seriousness, the bulk of the report is seriously unimpressive. As jaded as I’ve become over this last year of closely following the implementation of Agenda 2030, it is difficult to read its contents as anything but the typical, desperate attempt to blame its numerous failures and setbacks on the scarecrow issues of “lacking commitment” and “reduced financial flows.” Perhaps they have yet to realize — or, perhaps, have yet to accept — that it is difficult to retain much of any commitment, financial or otherwise, to a project that is fundamentally impossible to implement.

If no other lessons have been learned these last four years, it’s that there is a limit to how quickly and radically one may attempt to alter a given society without facing considerable consequences for having done so. Emmanuel Macron may be willing to chance massive protests, walk-outs, even rioting directed against the many unfavorable policies he has imposed upon the French people, but even he seems capable of determining which lines are better left uncrossed. UN bureaucrats, of course, none of whom were properly elected to their positions and all of whom remain entirely unaccountable to any authority not under the UN banner, clearly have yet to come to a similar understanding.

As such, it is somewhat poetic that not only did the COP25 proceedings end up being moved from their original location Chile, partially (albeit not entirely) as a result of UN-backed fiscal shenanigans in the region, but as well that the conference ultimately ended in a colossal failure. Not only did the attendees fail to produce any form of agreement on the conference’s biggest issues, such as the Green Climate Fund; it would appear that both worldwide CO2 emissions and coal extraction are — get this — increasing still (if you enjoy watching the climate cartel circling the drain as much as I do, see Francis Menton’s takedown of the situation here)! In either respect, we largely have the Chinese to thank: after a long period of courtship between the People’s Republic and the UNEP, particularly in the field of mass surveillance technology and methods of behavioral control (previously covered here), it seems now that the PRC has lost interest, at least temporarily, in maintaining this long-standing charade of ‘consensus’ — at least, as far as shuttering the nation’s resource industry is concerned.

And why would the Chinese government do such a thing? Clearly, because they seem to think this whole ‘climate crisis’ business — increasingly, a ‘business’ in the literal sense — is to some extent a crock of nonsense. Where would they get such an idea from, I wonder? Maybe from the Indian government, which has similarly made clear its intent to worry about things like infrastructure development and the provision of electricity first, climate mitigation second — “conditional on higher financial support from developed nations,” of course. At any rate, both India and China are joined by a handful of African nations in declaring themselves to be far more concerned with the real and immediate concerns of their own nations than they are with some sinking, sparsely-populated islands in the middle of the Pacific. And fair enough, some might say — after all, China and India are home to the first- and second-largest populations on the planet, and current projections have the African continent set to double its own population by 2050. It therefore seems difficult to really blame any of these actors for not wanting to shoulder the burdens of any more people than they already have to deal with — this, of course, goes directly against the core pillars of globalism, which would greatly prefer to see every single person on the planet equally suffer the consequences incurred by the actions of just a few.

Predictably, much of the moaning emitted from UN HQ thus far has instead had to do with the United States’ dropping out of the Paris Accords; likely, I would imagine, because it is easier from a public-relations perspective to accuse America of calculated sabotage than it is to admit to having been played for fools by China. But no matter which particular country (or sets thereof) we’d like to point our fingers at, all roads of inquiry lead back to the UN. Perhaps the real question to be asked is this — just how much longer can this show go on?

***

I first started this blog as something of a ‘companion’ outlet to a book I was (and still am) writing about the development industry, particularly regarding the attempted implementation of Agenda 2030. Naturally, the ‘unholy’ institutional trilogy of said industry — the UN System, the IMF, and the World Bank Group — featured quite heavily throughout, as did the innumerable hair-brained schemes and scams concocted by them in the grand pursuit of an allegedly-better world. Over time, my sights were trained on exactly how these organizations came into being, both materially and intellectually; later still, I became quite concerned with understanding why such a clearly corrupt and self-interested network of bureaucracies ever came to be seen as a legitimate force for ‘good’ in the eyes of the public in the first place, considering all the many reasons said public has been given not to trust them, practically since this whole mess started back in 1945.

And now, I am beginning to realize what a mistake it was to believe that all of this really started as late as 1945. Today, it seems to me that in order to truly understand the many problems that we presently face — as individuals, as societies, and indeed, as a species — it may well be necessary to wind the clock of inquiry back to the onset of the Industrial Revolution. Much like Rome, this self-cannibalizing system of ours was not built in a day; rather, it was slowly constructed over the course of at least a century, maybe even two. “Thankfully” — depending on one’s personal outlook on things — it can all come crashing down much more quickly than that.

Soon after beginning this project, I came to the belief that the UN et al. would never live to see the completion of its driving vision. This was based in the sincere observation that it is literally impossible to attain a number of their stated goals — as just one example, the World Bank’s latest initiative to score a given country’s rate of “learning poverty” based on its proportion of literate ten year-olds goes completely against everything we presently understand about both literacy and our present (in-)ability to test such things in a reliably standardized manner — as well as that it is logistically impossible to carry out a majority of the others. Thus, my main concern was with regards to the lengths to which the UN et al. and its supporters might go in the pursuit of carrying it all out anyway — in other words, I was more worried about the journey toward this utopia than I was about ‘discovering’ we’d been lied to about it on arrival.

My initial research for this project began around October of last year; the actual writing of it began the following January. Thus, around a year after having started all of this, the passage of time and the revelations accompanying it have necessitated that I revise my outlook.

In essence, I no longer believe that the UN will live to see the year 2050, let alone the completion of any projects that they might’ve liked to see done by then. As a matter of fact, I’m not convinced that the UN will live to see the year 2030: if it does still exist in ten years, I find it highly doubtful that the organization will retain anywhere near the same level of authority and influence that it enjoys at present. Indeed, since 2015 the entire UN System has been rattled by a dramatic decrease in perceived legitimacy; should this trend continue over the next five years, that the UN would become essentially defunct (or at least powerless) at some point during the next ten years seems practically inevitable.

By all accounts, such a thing would be a blessing. Yet there still remains the aforementioned problems of figuring out how and why we got ourselves into the position of cheering on the UN’s decline in the first place. I am greatly concerned that, without proper insight into the mistakes we’ve made in the past and present, we run the risk of repeating those same mistakes in the future. The absolute last thing I’d want out of this would be to see the UN shuttered, only to be replaced by an ideological carbon-copy differing only in the level of enthusiasm displayed by its proponents. Put simply, if the UN is going down, I want to make sure that it’s down for good.

Going into the new year — and a new decade — my plan is as follows: I am presently sitting on more than two-hundred pages worth of research and analyses conducted for the purpose of trying to “take down” the UN. Now that I see the UN might very well take down itself (and, accordingly, that my attention may be of better use elsewhere), it would be a shame for all this time and effort to have gone to waste. As such, my goal will be to transform this research into blog and/or video-friendly formats, as I work on re-writing the book through a more ‘philosophical’ lens.

At the same time, I would like to branch out a bit in terms of the topics covered on this blog. Specifically, I would like to focus somewhat less on the material aspects of our situation — the economics, the statistics, the projections — and more so on the immaterial, perhaps even ‘spiritual’ wasteland that presently characterizes Western life, particularly in pop culture and media. Whether we like it or not, in this day and age it is indeed through this medium that a majority of people come to understand the nature of the world around them — thus, the cultural landscape appears, to me, as a wide, open threshold, simply waiting to be crossed. Given that my own educational background and training is, in fact, in culture, ethnography, and semiotics — rather than in green energy or digital finance, which has nevertheless characterized much of my content to date — this is an important discussion that I feel quite capable of meaningfully contributing to. Indeed, I feel as if I have something of a duty to do so.

In closing, I want to thank everyone who has been reading, sharing, and (hopefully) getting some use out of my content to date. It has been your overwhelmingly positive feedback that has given me the drive to keep going with this project, and I am truly, immensely grateful for all your support. This past year has been quite the wild ride, and I very much look forward to seeing where it takes us next.

Best wishes to you and yours in the New Year,

A. E.

A World United in Discontent

On October the 26th, what began as a student-led rebellion against a rise in metro fares culminated in more than a million Chileans across the country hitting the streets in a more general protest of rising wealth inequality — already the worst in Latin America — in addition to low wages, increased costs of living, poor public health care and what they see as a massively outdated and ineffective pension system. [1] Further north, in Ecuador, widespread civil unrest erupted earlier that month, following the government’s decision to end a long-standing fuel subsidy and the subsequent, dramatic rise in pump prices rocking the oil-producing nation. [2] Across the Atlantic, meanwhile, the Netherlands has played host to considerably less-violent, yet no less disruptive, traffic-blocking protests by farmers in rejection of a recent government proposal to slash Dutch agricultural production by some 50%. [3] And then, of course, there’s the French, who will celebrate a full year’s worth of weekly demonstrations against various government policies, not least including their own eco-tax on fossil fuels, this upcoming Saturday.

In all four cases, what we are witnessing is a clash between two worlds, and between the vastly differing sets of expectations that accompany them each. In the blue corner, we have the pseudo-Nirvana of Unlimited Progress and the transnational elites whom champion it; in the red corner, we see the great masses of humanity whom have become keenly aware that this vision of the Anointed Ones has been tailor-made to exclude the common folk. Caught in the middle of the conflict we find the national and sub-national contractors tasked with the dirty work of our enforced enlightenment: the politicians, the civil servants, mainstream media and the cultural industry; all eager to play the part of the dodgy referee.

And while so many remain captivated by the action in the ring, a number of fist-fights have broken out in the stands. Of particular interest to us is the ongoing scrap between the two ‘halves’ of Canada, East and West, the more vocal members of each having accused the other of rooting for the wrong contender. Insults are tossed two-and-fro at a breathtaking pace; it has become something of a chore by this stage to keep up with who has called whom what, and why. The minute it appears that tensions between the two factions may begin to thaw, someone is sure to remember some thing or another that someone else might have said, or done, or even suggested, at any point between 20 minutes and 20 years prior to now, and to lob this painful memory like a grenade in the direction of the opposing side. And just like that, the fighting resumes before the smoke has had time to clear.

At some point, however, we’ll need to ask ourselves if this brawl is not itself a mere imitation of the main event we’re ostensibly spectating. Are these regional fractures of ours deepening solely as a result of the numerous, longstanding grievances between us emerging from the shadows once more, or is this simply the mask that we, as Canadians, have decided to don before we, too, step into the arena below? Of course, it is more than likely to be a mixture of the two — surely, many of the students in Chile who first began hopping turnstiles at train stations might have been happy to leave the protests there, and none of them could have predicted that this relatively mild act of opposition would later explode into the much more intense, much more generalized rage against the state machinery now wrestling the country into a choke-hold. But no matter how exactly the fighting might have kicked off, it has now taken on a life and character of its own — there’s no going back now.

Perhaps we Canadians share much the same fate: considering that the rise in Chilean metro fares was, among other factors, instigated by fuel prices [4], and that highly similar concerns have been behind the concurrent unrest in France and Ecuador (the Dutch farmers, meanwhile, can look to the same source behind their woes as can those waging war against high fuel prices — the alleged ‘climate crisis’), it seems only natural that the particular region of Canada dependent on a functioning fossil fuel industry would make the most noise in the face of an administration seemingly hell-bent on following the example set by its French and Ecuadorian counterparts.

But with violent demonstrations, looting, and rampant civil disorder not quite being our thing in Canada, and with the country itself being tens of times larger than all of the aforementioned nations put together, it is perhaps just as natural that our own brand of discontent would manifest itself in a spatially grandiose manner — that is to say, in the form of a burgeoning separatist movement. More to the point, however, one does not have to necessarily agree with the notion of a ‘Western Exit’ to be capable of recognizing the genuine reasons behind its very existence: simply put, it is about pipelines in Alberta — but it doesn’t stop there. Likewise, it is about metro fares in Chile, about fuel taxes in France, about fuel subsidies in Ecuador and about farming quotas in the Netherlands — but in none of these cases do things stop ‘there’, either.

Because as deeply personal as this spat between East and West may feel to us as Canadians, these present hostilities do not exist, nor were created, in a vacuum. Yes, the arguments we use, the names we call each other, and the historical grievances we point to, will all be adorned with our own unique, contextual flair. But we’d be fools to believe that we are the only nation presently tearing itself apart at the seams, and nor should we believe it possible to somehow turn back the clock on all of this and go back to the way things were ‘before’ — whenever we wish that to be.

Much the same can be said for the rest of the world: the cat, as it were, is no longer anywhere near the bag. It has become starkly visible to the citizens of these countries, as well as many others, that the powers that be do not truly have their subjects’ best interests in mind; not only that, these millions of people have realized, in their own ways, the futility behind attempting to root out this problem at the ballot box. The culpable actors cannot be voted out, for so many of them are complicit in these plans that there will always be another around to fill any vacancies. They cannot be held accountable for any of their crimes, no matter the degree of evidence available, because they have given themselves the power to be accountable to no one other than themselves. Thus the people have turned to perhaps the last available and viable method of voicing their opposition: protesting, be it peacefully or otherwise. For many of us in Western Canada, surfing the tide of separatist sentiment — regardless of how realistic the thought may or may not be in practice — appears to be the only meaningful form of protest left at our disposal.

In the grand scheme of things, that this division of ours would crop up along regional lines is simply a consequence of both our size and the distribution of our comparatively miniature population. Truly, it is not the case that the English-speaking Canadians in the West are inherently, drastically different than those in the East, culturally-speaking or otherwise, and there are surely many on either side who may feel they have more in common with those on the other. Rather, we should not view it as a mere coincidence that the catalyst for this split happens to be very much the same in spirit as that behind many of the other ‘uprisings’ taking place across the globe: the clash between two worlds, as represented by the ongoing war on fossil fuels; between that of the (trans-)national elites and that of, broadly speaking, just about everyone else.

Of course, not everyone will agree with my view of the situation, nor would I expect them to. There are those who will contend that Western separation is far from a novel idea, and that its re-emergence was an inevitability independent of whatever happens in any other country. Others may counter that if our present conflict isn’t really based in what region of the country one happens to live in, then the whole argument for separation becomes something of a moot point. I can only ask that they consider the broader perspective: Canadians in the West may be asking for independence in a literal sense, but they are doing so at a time when so many others worldwide are asking for a more metaphysical form of independence — independence from government interference with their lives — and for many of the same reasons. Put differently, we might say that they are seeking out the latter ‘type’ of independence by means of demanding the former. But more importantly, because the roots of this current round of Western alienation are not, truly, unique to Western Canada, this is not a phenomenon that can be dealt with by any single act of concession. Yes, it is about pipelines — but it doesn’t stop there.

A brief, self-advertisement

I would like to briefly bring to your attention that a Bitchute channel, containing audio readings of the less image-intensive posts here by yours truly, is now live. Three such articles have been done so far, and my intent is to continue to finish these while I struggle to get over a substantial case of writer’s block.

My idea is that this might be a better means of getting my content out to a wider audience, particularly for those who might otherwise be interested but don’t have the time to sit down and dedicate the extra time toward reading it. At any rate, I can’t be the only one who listens to podcasts and videos while doing chores.

Anyway, if this is something you might be interested in (or you know someone who might be), please do check it out and/or pass along a link to the channel as you see fit. I’ll attach a link to it somewhere on this site as well, as soon as I can figure out how.

Cheers,

A. E.

Between Quebec and The Rest of Canada

For many Canadians, the federal leaders’ debate held on October 7 –one of the very few that would see all qualified, federal parties participate — was their first of the campaign, even as close to the Big Day itself that we are now. In fact, this was the only debate that featured every single federal leader and was held in English — despite English being the overwhelmingly more-common native tongue of Canadians from coast to coast, but we’ll get to that in a minute.

In the lead-up to the debate itself, quite a bit of controversy was levied, both in favour of and in opposition to, the inviting of Maxime Bernier, leader of the People’s Party of Canada (PPC). Given Bernier’s tendency to eschew politically-correct hogwash, it is understandable that the censors at CTV would be considered about including him. Quite arguably, however, it was not Bernier whom the political/media establishment should have been worried about — in fact, I will argue that it was the inclusion of Yves-François Blanchet, leader of the Bloc Québécois (BQ), that had the most damning impact upon the political consciousness of the nation.

Considering that the BQ, though a federal party, fields candidates only in the province of Quebec itself, many may have been understandably puzzled by his presence at the English-language debate. The reason, however, is simple: the BQ is effectively in competition with the Liberals over seats in Quebec, which, in tandem with Ontario, are typically considered to be vital to the overall electoral success of a given party. Not only that, the BQ has been rapidly rising to challenge the Liberals in recent polls. As such, Blanchet was likely given a podium for the sole purpose of giving Trudeau the opportunity to debate him. Yes — while the other four leaders were appealing to the country as a whole, Trudeau attempted to advertise himself to Quebec and The Rest of Canada simultaneously; Blanchet, meanwhile, predictably remained focused on securing support in only the former. The near-open acknowledgement of this unbalanced political dynamic — a poorly-healed scar cut across the entire history of Canadian confederation — in combination with the manner in which it played out over the course of the evening, is, in my mind, virtually guaranteed to go down as one of the biggest mistakes made by the Liberal Party over the course of the entire campaign period.

It all comes down to the simple fact of Blanchet’s unswerving allegiance to the interests of Quebeckers, and — as he himself said — only Quebeckers. Blanchet did not shy away from the fact that he considers Quebec to hold something of a superior status to all of the other provinces (as evidenced by his frequent references to “Quebec and the provinces” during the debate, as if to suggest that Quebec itself is not a “province”); moreover, towards the end of the debate he stated that, to the extent that the interests of Quebec and that of The Rest of Canada happen to converge, the province is happy to cooperate — the implication here being that, should those interests conflict with one another, Blanchet will pursue a “Quebec First” style of domestic diplomacy. In other words, Albertans should not hold hopes for the Energy East pipeline project becoming a reality any time soon, so long as Blanchet has anything to say about it. Although we may both list our nationalities as “Canadian”, it is quite clear that Blanchet considers the desires of some Canadians to be more important than others.

Of course, none of this rhetoric comes off as particularly surprising, considering that the flip-flopping issue of Québécois nationalism and/or sovereignty from The Rest of Canada has, as mentioned, been a hotly-contested topic since before confederation in 1867. And, given that the BQ openly admits themselves to be laser-focused on the promotion of Québécois nationalism, interests, and sovereignty, it is no more surprising that the party’s leader would continue to walk the walk at the federal leaders’s debate.

What is likely to have unsettled a number of viewers, however, is just how blunt Blanchet was about his priorities — Quebec, and only Quebec — and, more crucially, the dedicated manner in which he maintained that Quebec, while more ‘special’ than the other provinces, should nevertheless continue to receive equalization payments from those other provinces. In fact, Blanchet all but openly suggested that Quebec ought to receive more federal welfare than it already does, on the basis of its having allegedly done “the most” in the fight against climate change. In other words, his belief appears to be that Quebec does not have to cooperate with the other provinces if it doesn’t want to, but should still be able to take money from them. Aside from the aforementioned quip about climate mitigation, no argument was provided by Blanchet as to why The Rest of Canada ought to be on board with this, other than the fact that Blanchet said so.

Now, that’s what Blanchet said at the debate — the reaction to what he said, on the other hand, may prove itself to be the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.

To my admitted surprise, Trudeau was the only party leader to push back against Blanchet’s flagrant Franco supremacy during the debate itself, countering that (to paraphrase) “Quebeckers can do whatever Canadians can do, as Quebeckers are Canadians by definition.” Of course, to anyone in the audience that had been paying attention, this was clearly not the case — if any other province had attempted to assert itself and advocate exclusively for the interests of its citizens in the manner that Blanchet had just done for Quebec, they would have been dragged across the coals and denounced as ‘sewing division’ by the mainstream press, rightly or wrongly. If nothing else, the debate served to make it quite obvious to The Rest of Canada that there are, in fact, a multitude of things that Quebec can do and say that the other provinces cannot. I believe that this factor alone — a glaring spotlight cast upon the unspoken agreement that a stringent, highly-effective social hierarchy exists here in Canada — ought to be enough to strike serious doubts regarding the unity of our nation into the hearts of Canadians across the country.

For Alberta, having seemingly taken on the role of the “red-headed stepchild” of the provinces and, beyond being named-and-shamed for its fossil fuel activities by both Blanchet and Green Party leader Elizabeth May, received effectively no attention from any of the party leaders regarding any of the multiple problems it is currently grappling with, the damage inflicted on its increasingly-tenuous relationship with the federal government by being so blatantly degraded as Quebec’s Piggy Bank ought to be fairly obvious. The Rest of The Rest of Canada, meanwhile, ought to be asking themselves, if they haven’t already begun to do so, the very same question that Albertans — and other Western Canadians, for that matter — have been asking for some time, now: Why isn’t there anyone at the federal level who cares as much about the people in my province as Blanchet and the BQ seem to care about those in Quebec? If we really are all equal partners in this national project of ours, why are the concerns of some of us seen to be more worthy of discussion than that of the rest of us?

Some of the other, very important issues featuring in this election which were either glossed-over or ignored entirely over the course of the debate include, but are not limited to, the rising rates of crime, and violent crime in particular; the opioid epidemic; the perilously overwhelmed immigration system; the ever-worrying state of the national economy; our disputes with China, no less their continued detention of Canadian citizens; and our country-wide shortage of health care professionals. These are all issues that affect Canadians in B.C. as much as they do Canadians in Nova Scotia — but these, for whatever reason, were not considered to be topics worthy of much attention.

The province of Quebec, meanwhile, was given its very own seat at the table, purely by virtue of Trudeau really, really needing to win some seats there. Not only that, its very name was invoked almost twice the amount of the next-most popular term, “climate”. Quebec, and all things Quebec, was quite well represented in the discussion, indeed — if only The Rest of Canada could have said the same. But as much as the political class may ultimately aim to win-over all Canadians, they especially need to win over the ones in Quebec.

Meanwhile, as the hands of the clock strike ever closer towards midnight, Trudeau has since switched tactics on the Quebec campaign trail: rather than appealing to Quebeckers to choose the Liberals over the BQ, he has begun to ask them to vote Liberal in order to stop the Conservatives from winning too many seats overall. That’s right — by means of a gruesomely hypocritical about-face, Trudeau now wants Quebec to be the deciding factor in how The Rest of Canada will be governed. Of course, owing to the present distribution of parliamentary seats, this has always been the case to some extent, as Ontario and Quebec hold the highest numbers of them — 121 and 78, respectively — over all the other provinces. What is different this time, however, is that Quebec is now being made to choose explicitly between two, possible positions within the confederation: Quebec as Part-of-Canada; or Quebec as Part-of-But-Separate-From-The-Rest-of-Canada.

Certainly, they have a difficult choice to make. Unfortunately, neither option offers any hope of repairing the damage that has been wrought upon the country by a century and a half of selective, provincial favoritism. It should be said, however, that we shouldn’t really fault the people of Quebec for wanting to vote for the guy who will stand up for their interests — surely, if The Rest of Canada had the option, they might very well do the same. Time will tell, but perhaps this catastrophe of a leadership debate (and election campaign, more generally) will help to provide the impetus for the right parties and leaders — provincially, if not federally — to rise to the challenge of giving their respective constituents precisely that privilege. At any rate, the possibility no longer appears to be as far-fetched as has previously been assumed.

Organic Energy, The Rich Man’s ‘Idiot Tax’

Just last night, a considerable amount of controversy erupted over the revelation that the Liberal campaign has used not one plane to transport their staff from sea to shining sea, but two — one for people; the other, allegedly, for their luggage. Not to fear, however, as the LPC swiftly issued a press release stating that they had “purchased carbon offsets” to cover their air travel emissions; the Conservatives, meanwhile, they were quick to point out, had not. I’m not entirely sure how this explanation has worked out for them thus far, considering the vast majority of the responses I have seen on social media have been very much along the lines of, “What the f**k is a ‘carbon offset’?”

And, in all fairness, it’s a pretty good question.

In order to find an answer, I had a browse through the website for the company the LPC is alleged to have purchased these “carbon offsets” from: Bullfrog Power Inc., which bills itself as “Canada’s leading green energy provider.” As it turns out, however, Bullfrog does not itself provide energy of any sort — rather, they take your money and use it to pay actual green energy producers to generate it. So, more like green energy retailers, right?

Nope, not even that.

Bullfrog does not change anything about the energy consumption practices of its clients: it will not somehow make your home run entirely on green energy, nor will it even have any effect on how much “dirty” energy you’re currently using. Starting at just $11 a month, you can simply pay Bullfrog to pay for green energy to be sent to the electrical grid, “on your behalf”.

That’s it. Moreover, this appears to be their entire business model.

Now, you might be asking yourself, “Why on Earth would I pay extra for energy that I will not personally be consuming?” Great question! Using the analogy of a sink being filled with two taps of water — one “dirty”, the other “clean” — they say that, as you are adding the dirty water from the one tap and draining it through the sink (consumption), you can pay to also have the other tap turned on; this will fill the “sink” (grid) with a higher ratio of clean:dirty water than it had held before. Supposedly, the idea is to get to a point where we don’t need as much water from the dirty tap, because the clean tap has enough to fill the entire sink.

The analogy works, but perhaps not for the reason they think — they leave out the part where the sink, much like an electrical grid, has a limited capacity to hold water/energy and will hit capacity much faster if there is more water (of any sort) flowing into it than before, and it is not accordingly being drained at a higher rate. In other words, increasing supply without increasing demand. This is a bit of a problem, as the entire premise rests on the idea that there will be an increase in demand for green/renewable electricity — but once the water is in the same sink, it’s not possible to scoop out a portion and determine how much of it came from either tap, and exactly the same holds true for electricity in the grid. If you’re on the grid to start with, you don’t get a choice as to how the energy you draw from it was produced. Thus, in order to ensure that it was all produced in a “clean” manner, you would have to prevent the dirty water from getting into the sink in the first place — i.e., stop using fossil fuels entirely. But until we are in a position where we can feel safe shutting down all of our “unclean” energy sources without really throwing a wrench into the works — and we’re not — the entire exercise is pretty much pointless.

In the meantime, you’re basically sending Bullfrog money to help subsidize the massively inefficient and unreliable production of energy by renewable means, and in return you’ll receive a monthly bill that maybe makes you feel better after having been relentlessly shamed by the media for the fact that you exist. Crucially, your actual electrical bills are not going to be impacted in any way that benefits you: again, since you don’t get to choose where the energy you use comes from, it’s not as if you’ll get to pay less carbon taxes in exchange for having also payed for low-carbon energy production. If anything, your bills will probably increase as time goes on, considering that renewable energy is much more expensive to produce than it is via fossil fuels — after all, if it were cheaper to produce, we wouldn’t be having this discussion. All in all, you’re paying more money now for the opportunity to pay even more money later.

But don’t take my word for it — even a representative of Greenpeace has spoken out against the use of carbon offsets as a “get out of jail free card”, owing to the obvious fact that you cannot justify increasing (or maintaining) your emissions simply by paying extra to do so, any more than you can justify beating your wife because you donate money to a battered women’s shelter. If the theory behind reducing CO2 emissions holds that a build-up of the stuff in the atmosphere is bad, it follows that you would actually have to reduce the amount being emitted in order to keep it from building up. Regrettably, it is not yet possible to cut a cheque fat enough to stop the first law of thermodynamics in its tracks.

Essentially, this is the same marketing tactic used by companies who offer to donate X amount of proceeds from a given product for each item that is sold: the ‘donation’ is contingent upon your purchase. They don’t just donate the money outright because they want you to buy the product so they can make a profit — even if they donate 5% of the proceeds to charity, they get to keep the other 95% of profit that they wouldn’t otherwise have. Carbon offsets/credits appear to function in much the same way: Bullfrog isn’t going to just invest in clean energy and tech with their own money (and given the non-profitability of the sector, I can’t say that I blame them); they want you to give them money so that they can invest X amount of it on your behalf, while keeping some undisclosed amount for themselves. The only product that they’re really selling here is, by all appearances, the opportunity to “feel good” about doing something for the climate, while not actually doing anything for the climate.

My mother used to refer to lottery cards and scratch tickets as the “idiot tax” — a non-mandatory tax paid by people dumb enough to think they have a reasonable chance of winning more money than what they’d paid for the tickets in the first place. Now, with all due respect to lottery players (I’ll grab a card or two myself sometimes), what I’m sensing from this whole carbon credit scheme is very much along the same lines: it’s an extra carbon tax paid by people dumb enough to believe that it’s OK to drink a cup of cyanide if you chase it with a cup of water. At the very least, I can understand why people play the lottery: there is a chance, however infinitely small, that one may receive a tangible reward for doing so. With carbon offsets, you are only compensated insofar as you believe that you’re doing something to help.

The whole thing sounds so unbelievably stupid, it’s hard to believe the fact that carbon credits/offsets have managed to become an industry at least profitable enough to have won the favour of the leader of a G7 country, who is perfectly willing to donate what is probably taxpayer money to companies like Bullfrog “on our behalf.” Until, that is, you remember that said leader has a higher net worth than he does functional intelligence; perhaps the same can be said for every other person buying into this scheme. At any rate, I’ve become increasingly convinced that, given a well-written and convincing enough proposal, I could probably get the federal government to send me money to find a way to transmute nickel into gold — only one way to find out!

From the Inside, Looking Out

So, here’s the thing.

I, like many Canadians, had for many years bought into the widespread misconception of democratic governance constituting some kind of political ‘end-state’; some pinnacle of societal achievement, in no need of further perfection and essentially impervious to most threats, such that it could be brought down only by a sudden disaster of an exceptional character and/or foreign occupation by a non-democratic state. Without even knowing his name or his record, I had nevertheless managed to fully imbibe Francis Fukuyama’s theory of “the end of history”, wherein governance by liberal democracy appears virtually synonymous with the attainment of a society-wide state of nirvana. Fukuyama has long since walked back this claim in a variety of ways, but this particular myth appears to pervade ostensibly liberal, democratic societies to this day, and perhaps has even been doing so since long before Fukuyama first put the phenomenon into writing.

Partly owing to this blessed ignorance of mine, for many years I had no reason to feel as if anything bad was happening in my own, liberal democracy. I went on to spend five years in university learning from, and speaking to, people who were experts on the subject of tyranny — if not because they had studied the topic for years, then because they themselves had lived through the experience. Even before this, I have always been drawn to literature, fictional or otherwise, first- or second-hand, dealing with the stories of those people unfortunate enough to have to try living under an oppressive and hostile state regime. I always wanted to know how things could ever get to that point — surely, one does not simply wake up one day and suddenly realize that something has gone horribly wrong. There must be warning signs; events and circumstances that might indicate the devious direction one’s country is headed towards.

All the while, my interest in such things had something of a voyeuristic aspect to it. As much as I shuddered to think of what I would have — or could have — have done in a similar situation, my musings on the matter were only slightly less ignorant than those that could be offered by someone with decidedly less interest on the topic. One way or the other, all of the first-hand tales in the world could not change the fact that I, myself, had never been in such circumstances. Crucially, this allowed me to retain a degree of separation from the horrible realities that others had endured; it did not, I believed, ever have to enter my reality. After all, it was not my brother who was dragged, kicking and screaming, out of his apartment building at three in the morning, never to be seen again. It was not my father who was shot in front of his family for refusing to hand over his farming equipment. And above all, it was not me who had to live with the memory of these things; who could vividly re-tell the events contained within, as if they had happened yesterday; who would never be able to forget them, even if I wished to do so. Though the empathy I felt for their suffering may have been genuine, their sorrow was not truly my burden to bear: I could leave this re-constructed world of terror at any point, and return to the one that did not scare me quite so much. Ultimately, I had the choice not to think about those things.

A lot of things have changed, since then. I’m no longer sure when it first was that I realized there was something rotten about the state of Canada. Certainly, it was some time around the Indian Voyage fiasco early last year that I knew for sure the country was not being led by our best and brightest. By then, the trans-Atlantic network of suspiciously well-dressed and well-fed “refugees” flowing between New York state and the Quebec border had been quite well established; this had made me angry at the time, so perhaps the end of my optimism had come even sooner than the India trip. I don’t really remember, but it doesn’t matter either way.

Fast forward to this past week. On Wednesday, a journalist, who is by no means a stranger to his seasoned colleagues whom hail from other news outlets, was repeatedly denied access to the Liberal Party campaign bus, on the alleged basis of not having the proper accreditation as a member of the media. This rationale works well as a cover-story to the public ear, because most members of the general public are not aware that accreditation is nothing like a process of “certification” or even “licencing”; rather, it is the simple act of demonstrating that one has contributed content to the news media in some manner (i.e., is a journalist), and receiving a slip of paper meant to serve as recognition of that fact. That’s it. For someone such as this particular journalist, accreditation is only a Google search away.

Of course, that’s not what happened. Effectively, this journalist was denied accreditation to board the bus, on the basis of not having accreditation to board the bus. As his colleague explains, “This is the equivalent of showing up at the DMV to get a driver’s license and them telling you that they can’t give a license because you’re not a licensed driver” — a perfect Catch-22. As the story goes, this journalist was later detained by police for following behind the bus by car; he says he had no choice but to do this, as none of the journalists who were on the bus, much less the campaign war room, were willing to tell him or his outlet where it would be pulling over next. This, in a country where, provided you meet the appropriate racial description, you can shove your hand down the pants of a 14 year-old girl and get away with it — don’t try to follow the Liberal campaign bus, though, because the police will get right on that! Later, on the other side of the country, he was denied entry (again, by local police) into a public building where a Liberal campaign event was taking place — not as a member of the media, mind you, but as an ordinary, curious member of the electorate. Just like you and me.

One of the other things I have always wondered about tyrannies of the past is whether or not a substantial part of the population was ever on board with it. Surely, one would expect that many would be made to go along with the narrative; but were there any among them who genuinely bought into the lies they were peddling? Depending on the particular regime, the answer to this varies considerably — sometimes, yes; other times, no. At any rate, most are not permitted the space to openly voice any disagreement, and the general public is left only to wonder.

Well, as it turns out, there is something to be said for the power of denial. Witnessing the passionate creativity with which any and all concerns regarding the legality, credibility, or indeed the necessity of the events outlined above have been effortlessly cast-aside by multiple members of the public, is truly a sight to behold. It’s the kind of mental run-around that could only be successfully orchestrated by those who really ought to know better — which is why I call it denial, rather than pure ignorance.

In all fairness, I can understand where they’re coming from: this land, our land, is not supposed to be a place where those things happen. Thus, there has to be some legitimate reason to refuse a journalist — conspicuously, one belonging to one of the few genuinely right-wing media outlets that remain in this country — entry to Liberal campaign events — right? There simply must be some kind of explanation for this. Because, if it turns out that there isn’t one, then that means that we live in a country where the ruling party can prevent a credible member of this press from covering their campaign events during an election, simply because there is a high chance that said journalist will disagree with the party’s position; maybe even in written form. Which, if it were true, would imply that we really, really don’t have such a thing as a free press in Canada. And that just can’t be the case — right?

Right?

No — you know what? That journalist can’t be a “real” journalist if he wasn’t allowed to cover the Liberal campaign. Maybe that’s it. Maybe, he was a journalist at some point, but he isn’t now. I’m not really sure how that would be determined beyond the aforementioned accreditation system, but surely the sitting party has a reliable way of doing it — this is their job, after all; who are we to question their performance? And, you know, even if the NDP thought his credentials were good enough to cover their campaign events, that doesn’t mean that the Liberals didn’t make the right decision — different party, different policy. What do we really know about any of this? We didn’t see how he was driving — maybe they were worried about being followed by a car. That’s reasonable, isn’t it? After all, some very important people were on board that bus; their safety really ought to come first. Maybe, then, they figured the guy was trouble when he tried to enter a different event as a member of the public, and they denied him entry just to be on the safe side. I mean, we really should be asking why this “journalist” was so persistent in the first place: do you really have to ask the Prime Minister questions, like, that badly? Like, come on, man; just do what you’re told and stop causing problems.

Right, so, there’s nothing really amiss here. This guy is just salty that he wasn’t allowed in, and he’s probably exaggerating the details because of that. That makes sense — much more sense than his version of the story, where he wasn’t allowed on the bus “just because.” None of this really means anything, then. No need to be upset. No need to fan the flames any further; we really ought to just forget about the whole thing. That sounds reasonable, doesn’t it? Let’s not worry about it anymore.

We still live in a liberal democracy — this is Canada, after all. The true north, strong and free. There’s no tyranny in Canada, nor should we ever expect it. Anyone who tells you otherwise is just trying to cause trouble, so it’s best to ignore them. Things really aren’t that bad here.

…right?

In truth, I don’t know. I don’t like any of this; I don’t like where we’re heading, and I don’t really like to imagine what could happen further down the road. I would rather not try to speculate as to how it could get that bad here, or what that would mean, or what it might look like. In fact, I would rather not think about those things at all. Now’s about the time that I would really, really like to go back to playing the role of an audience member, to be observing the events of someone else’s world, and not be a part of it myself.

If only I still had the choice.