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Leading
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5 min read

Canadians are riled up: who's got the plan to meet the moment?

A restless nation looks to what’s next.

Emerson Csorba works in deep tech, following experience in geopolitics and energy.

Ice hockey players fight in front of a goal
Canadian and American hockey players fight it out.

Canada is on edge. The world feels more volatile than it has in years, and at the center of the political storm is the looming presence of Donald Trump. With a Canadian election called this past Sunday, Canadians are fixated on a single question: who among our leaders is best equipped to deal with the return of Trumpism?  

It is not just about diplomacy; it is about defining Canada's role in a world that is growing more uncertain by the day. 

Right now, two figures are in competition: Mark Carney and Pierre Poilievre. They are, in many ways, opposites. Carney, with his economic expertise and international standing, represents a polished, globally respected leadership style. Poilievre, by contrast, channels raw frustration, presenting himself as the anti-establishment fighter ready to take on both the political elite and external threats.  

The country is divided, with polls showing both men running neck and neck. The choice before Canadians is not just about policy; it is about the kind of leadership style they believe can best meet the challenges ahead. 

Canadians are restless and want a leader with a clear plan - a person who is willing to fight but who also has a strong, actionable vision for the country. Empty rhetoric will not suffice; voters want substance behind the message. They want to know that the elected leaders - and their team - can actually deliver.  

This moment demands a different kind of leadership, one grounded in values and virtues that resonate with Canadians. This is because Canadians want to know that their next leader has substance, given the lack of this over the last decade.  

Among these, community stands out as essential. Communities are not just social units; they are the backbone of resilience. In times of crisis, as I argued in a previous article Canada’s Long Hot Summer, strong communities determine whether a nation weathers the storm or succumbs to decline.  

The plans devised by the Federal government, and in partnership with Canada's thirteen provinces and territories, will need to be delivered at the community level. It will not be government bureaucracies but rather communities pulling Canada through upcoming challenges.  

Community is not just about togetherness - it is about shared responsibility and the willingness to take action. Historically, the strength of Canadians comes from pulling together in times of crisis, not from passive compromise. We built our communities with a sense of collective responsibility, recognizing that our prosperity depends on our willingness to support our neighbors. 

Canadians respect leaders who fight for their values while delivering results. In hockey terms, we admire the hard-working, two-way player who battles in the corners and delivers when it counts - not someone who plays a careful, neutral game. A leader who embodies that spirit, who presents a clear, actionable plan for Canada’s future, will resonate deeply with voters.  

Indeed, the last ten years for Canada have been anything but this: all words and no action.  

There is therefore a delicate balance between channeling people's justified frustrations and a focus on presenting a better future.  

Now is the time to reflect on individual and shared values and virtues. My own personal and political values are those of integrity, honesty, pluralism, self-reliance, ingenuity, and a commitment to protecting the most vulnerable. Values and virtues are not abstract ideals; they are practical necessities in a rapidly changing world.  

For instance, integrity means acting in accordance with one’s principles and delivering on promises. Honesty is about telling hard truths, even when they are inconvenient. Pluralism acknowledges the richness of the Canadian people and the need for different perspectives at the decision-making table. Self-reliance is not about isolation; it is about ensuring Canada can stand on its own economically and politically without over-reliance on others. Ingenuity is about fostering a culture of innovation that keeps Canada competitive in an era of global transformation. And protecting the vulnerable is not charity - it is about creating a country where everyone has the opportunity to contribute meaningfully. 

A leader who can embody these types of principles (or any principles) while also presenting a concrete plan for Canada’s future will resonate with voters. 

While Pierre Poilievre has had difficulty adapting to the election of Donald Trump and is losing ground in the polls to Carney (a previous 20-point lead now reduced to one), he remains in a good position and can achieve victory by adapting his messaging and policies to the world we are in.  

Anger and a focus on the brokenness of Canada is not what Canadians want; dissatisfaction needs to be channeled in a way that is more forward-looking. What can Canadian communities achieve together, based on our shared values and virtues, translating words into actions? Answering this question clearly and authentically is key to Carney's success.

This election is not just about choosing between Carney and Poilievre - it is about what kind of Canada we want to build. Canadians will not be satisfied with vague assurances of moderation or status quo politics.  We do not want the same old, and this is where Carney must be careful - bringing voices into his team from beyond the ancien régime. A plurality of voices is powerful. 

We want a leader who will take decisive action and who brings real change.  

As Canadians, we do not just watch history unfold; we participate in it. We built one of the world’s strongest economies, and now we face the challenge of defending it in an era of deglobalization and shifting alliances. Canada has the resources, the talent, and the spirit to succeed, but we need leadership that understands how to harness that potential. 

The political landscape is shifting, and Canadians are ready for change.  

The question is no longer just who can stand up to Trump; it is who has the plan, the resolve, and the leadership to ensure Canada thrives in an uncertain world. That is the ballot question, and it will define the country’s next chapter. 

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Let's keep hope weird, Zack

Amid growing grief for the future, the Greens' leader is calling for 'ordinary hope'

Lauren Westwood works in faith engagement communications for The Salvation Army.

Zack Polanski walks down an alleyway
Zack Polanski returns to Manchester.
The Green Party

The recent Green Party’s political broadcast has been praised for its emotional clarity, moral urgency and a call to action that has seen party membership surge.  

Looking down the lens, recalling his years growing up in the north of England, party leader Zack Polanski sighs,  

“There was something in the air… a kind of ordinary hope.” 

As he walks through a typical British city, filmed in Manchester, lined with terraced houses and bright-white lights beaming over takeaway shops and industrial bins, he diagnoses the collective hopelessness of a ‘people too tired to fight, to sleep.’ 

In just under four minutes, Polanski disarms objections to his cause with a sensitive, poetic script. He opens by referring to the common experience of a satisfying bowl of cornflakes – before plainly illustrating the socioeconomic injustice facing the everyman. He then makes the case for fair wealth taxation, and closes with the cheery challenge:  

‘Let’s make hope normal again.’ 

It’s a compelling appeal that resonates with those weary of cynicism. But what does it actually mean? 

I don’t call this to question because I don’t actually want good things for our country. I do, desperately.  

To be clear, I call this to question because I desperately want good things for our coutnry. Warm homes, clean air, safe streets and an NHS that works for all – I believe these things should be normal. But I’m not sure I want to normalise hope. 

Because real hope is weird. 

Hope is not to be confused with optimism, or good prospects, or a positivity about the future reserved for the privileged. It’s not increased with social mobility or sitting comfortably in a five-year plan. Hope is not even the belief that things will get better. Real hope is much truer than that. It is a deep knowing that all shall be well, even when that seems foolish – a glance through the ancient literature of the Bible points to hope as singing in a prison cell, relief in the wilderness, resurrection in the face of crucifixion. 

As NT Wright, the theologian, puts it: ‘Hope is what you get when you suddenly realise a different worldview is possible, a worldview in which the rich, the powerful, and the unscrupulous do not after all have the last word.’ This kind of hope doesn’t waiver with the housing market, interest rates, or inheritance tax. It’s not the result of good policy or strong polling. It’s the stubborn belief that love wins – and has, in fact, already won – even, or especially, when it looks like all is lost. 

This is where Polanski’s got it right. There is a present and growing grief for the future. Across the UK, millions feel disengaged, disrespected and undervalued. Distrust of politicians, division in communities and loss of faith in the systems supposed to be for our benefit seem to be at an all-time high. 

Polanski’s call to hope comes at a time when a redeemed order seems impossible or, at best, several generations away. But, instead of accepting the kind of ‘ordinary hope’ Polanski experienced back in his youth, the answer to our deepest longing lies in realising we need something extraordinary to happen and knowing that we’re allowed to believe that it will. 

We don’t need to be desensitised to hope – we need the opposite. We need to be reawakened to everyday glimmers of redemption – the neighbour who pops by for sugar and stays for a safe conversation, the health worker who acknowledges a former patient with a grateful smile, the family whose fear is soothed by the kind gesture of an elderly white neighbour – and recognise our share and our part in bringing it on, believing there is yet more and better to uncover. 

Polanski is incredibly perceptive in his address to the concerns of the hard-working plumber and the fledgling hair salon owner, nervous that their hard earnings and ambition will be cut short: ‘I wondered, “Why did they think I was talking about them?” And now, I get it. It’s because it’s too hard to picture.’  

Hope, too, is hard to see. A better world is hard to imagine. Though Polanski is advocating for a public reform and reimagination of what it means to be taxed, our souls are capable of the sudden realisation that another way is possible. We can experience life-altering revelation that leads to fresh vision, both for what is seen and for the yet unseen. 

For the Christian, hope is not some far-out abstract concept, but a gift made real through belief in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ – a Middle Eastern man who walked the earth two thousand years ago, held no title, had no place to lay his head, and called himself the Way, the Truth and the Life. See? Real hope gets weird. 

Instead of being content to accept an ordinary hope – made small, palatable and unremarkable – we can embrace hope as it was designed. A liberating reality that brings steady assurance to every thought, every reaction, every decision and, yes, every vote. This confidence comes not because we are sure of our own rightness, but precisely because we are not. We submit to its mystery because a hope that we can control, mediate and measure will never lead to the transformation we most long for. 

Do I long to see an increased hope for the future across the UK? Of course. But do I believe we should ever grow accustomed to hope? I don’t think so. We need contagious hope – wild and holy and strange, anything but normal. 

Tax the super-rich so that children can eat, parents can sleep, and ordinary people can be lifted out of extraordinary poverty – but let’s keep hope weird. 

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If you enjoy Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?
 
Do so by joining Behind The Seen. Alongside other benefits, you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing my reading and reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

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