Article
Comment
Leading
Politics
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. 

Celebrate our 2nd birthday!

Since March 2023, our readers have enjoyed over 1,000 articles. All for free. This is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.

If you’re enjoying 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.

Graham Tomlin

Editor-in-Chief

Article
Comment
Justice
Leading
Politics
5 min read

The consequences of truth-telling are so severe our leaders can’t admit their mistakes

When accountability means annihilation, denial is the only way to survive
A woman talks in an interivew.
Baroness Casey.
BBC.

Why do our leaders struggle so profoundly with admitting error? 

Media and inquiries regularly report on such failures in the NHS, the Home Office, the Department of Work and Pensions, HMRC, the Metropolitan Police, the Ministry of Defence, and so many more public institutions. Often accompanied by harrowing personal stories of the harm done. 

In a recent white paper (From harm to healing: rebuilding trust in Britain’s publicly funded institutions), I defined “harm” as a holistic concept occurring where physical injury or mental distress is committed and sustained and explained that harm is generally something that is caused, possibly resulting in injury or loss of life.  

When we look at harm from an institutional perspective, structural power dynamics inevitably oppress certain groups, limit individual freedoms, and negatively affect the safety and security of individuals. But when we look at it through the lens of the individuals who run those institutions, we see people who often believe that they are acting in good faith, believe that their decisions won’t have a significant impact, who don’t have time to think about the decisions they are making, or worse still, prefer to protect what is in their best interest.  

Even well-intentioned leaders can become complicit in cycles of harm - not just through malice, but through their lack of self-awareness and unwillingness to put themselves in the shoes of the person on the receiving end of their decisions.  

Martin Luther King Jr supposedly said, “the ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.” In contemporary politics, leaders are neither selected nor (largely) do they remain, because of their humility. Humility is synonymous with weakness and showing weakness must be avoided at all cost. Responsibility is perceived as something that lies outside of us, rather than something we can take ownership of from within.  

So, why do leaders struggle so profoundly with admitting error? 

The issue is cultural and three-fold. 

First, we don’t quantify or systematically address human error, allowing small mistakes to escalate. 

We then enable those responsible to evade accountability through institutional protection and legal barriers. 

Finally, we actively discourage truth-telling by punishing whistle-blowers rather than rewarding transparency. Taken together, these create the very conditions that transform errors into institutional harm.  

Nowhere is this plainer than in Baroness Casey’s recent report on Group-based Child Sexual Exploitation and Abuse that caused the Government to announce a grooming gangs inquiry. In this case, the initial harm was compounded by denial and obfuscation, resulting not just in an institutional failure to protect children, but system-wide failures that have enabled the so-called “bad actors” to remain in situ. 

Recently, this trend was bucked at Countess of Chester Hospital where the police arrested three hospital managers involved in the Lucy Letby investigation. Previously, senior leadership had been protected, thus allowing them to evade accountability. Humble leadership would look like acting when concerns are raised before they become scandals. However, in this case, leadership did act; they chose to bury the truth rather than believe the whistle-blowers.

Until we separate admission of error from institutional destruction, we will continue to incentivise the very cover-ups that erode public trust. 

The answer to our conundrum is obvious. In Britain, accountability is conflated with annihilation. Clinging onto power is the only option because admitting error has become synonymous with career suicide, legal liability, and is tantamount to being hanged in the gallows of social media. We have managed to create systems of governing where the consequences of truth-telling are so severe that denial is the only survival mechanism left. We have successfully weaponised accountability rather than understanding it as the foundation of trust. 

If Rotherham Metropolitan Borough Council had admitted even half of the failures Alexis Jay OBE identified in her 2013 report and that Baroness Casey identifies in her 2025 audit, leaders would face not only compensation claims but media storms, regulatory sanctions, and individual prosecutions. It’s so unthinkable to put someone through that that we shrink back with empathy as to why someone might not speak up. But this is not justice. Justice is what the families of Hillsborough have been seeking in the Public Authority (Accountability) Bill: legal duties of candour, criminal offences for those who deliberately mislead investigations or cover-up service failures, legal representation, and appropriate disclosure of documentation. 

Regardless of your political persuasion, it has to be right that when police misconduct occurs, officers should fear not only disciplinary action and criminal charges. When politicians admit mistakes, they should face calls for their resignation. Public vilification is par for the course. Being ejected from office is the bare minimum required to take accountability for their actions.  

The white paper shows that the cover-up always causes more damage than the original error. Institutional denial - whether relating to the Post Office sub-postmasters, the infected blood scandal victims, grooming gang victims, Grenfell Towers victims, Windrush claimants, or Hillsborough families - compounds the original harm exponentially.  

In a society beset with blame, shame, and by fame, it is extraordinary that this struggle to admit error is so pervasive. Survivors can and will forgive human fallibility. What they will not forgive is the arrogance of institutions that refuse to acknowledge when they have caused harm.  

The white paper refers to a four-fold restorative framework that starts with acknowledgment, not punishment. The courage to say “we were wrong” is merely the first step. Next is apology and accountability followed by amends. It recognises that healing - not just legal resolution - must be at the heart of justice, treating both those harmed and those who caused it as whole human beings deserving of dignity.  

Until we separate admission of error from institutional destruction, we will continue to incentivise the very cover-ups that erode public trust. I was recently struck by Baroness Onora O’Neill who insisted that we must demand trustworthiness in our leaders. We cannot have trustworthiness without truth-telling, and we cannot have that without valuing the act of repairing harm over reputation management. True authority comes from service, through vulnerability rather than invulnerability; strength comes through the acknowledgement of weakness not the projection of power.  

We must recognise that those entrusted with power have a moral obligation to those they serve. That obligation transcends institutional self-interest. Thus, we must stop asking why leaders struggle to admit error and instead ask why we have made truth-telling so dangerous that lies seem safer.