THE IDEA of Canada has always been a paradox – both vast and intangible, a country that exists more as an abstraction than a defined national consciousness. Unlike the fervent mythology of our southern neighbor, or the ancient identities of Europe, Canada’s sense of self has long been mercurial, shifting in response to external forces rather than from an unshakable internal foundation.
For much of its history, Canada has been content in its adjacency – defining itself not by what it is, but by what it is not. We are not America, not imperialists, not disruptors of the global order. We are measured, pragmatic, tolerant. But in a century where nations must shape the future rather than react to it, is absence of definition still an identity – or merely a form of disappearance?
CANADA’S CULTURAL NARRATIVE has always been shaped by extraction – of timber, of minerals, of oil, and of intellectual capital. We have built industries, economies, and even a global reputation on the export of raw materials and unrefined talent, only to watch as the greatest returns are realized elsewhere. Nowhere is this more evident than in our creative and technological industries.
We are a nation of artistic and intellectual pioneers whose greatest contributions – our musicians, filmmakers, writers, and AI researchers – find their fullest expression only once they have left our borders. Canada’s film industry is a production hub for foreign stories, our musicians dominate global charts under American labels, and our AI researchers lay the groundwork for billion-dollar enterprises that bloom elsewhere. We birth the future, yet we rarely own it. The question is not whether Canada can create, but whether it can claim what it creates.

THIS IS NOT merely an economic dilemma – it is an existential one. In an era where the most powerful nations are those that control the narrative of the future, Canada remains an observer rather than an author. The world’s most influential cultural and technological movements—from Hollywood to Silicon Valley, from the rise of artificial intelligence to the geopolitics of energy – are defined by those who have the will to project their vision outward, to carve their imprint onto the future.
As digital ecosystems become the dominant platforms of influence, and as artificial intelligence reshapes the structure of power itself, Canada risks becoming not a player, but a setting – a backdrop for stories written elsewhere. Our hesitation to embrace bold national projects, to invest in our own cultural and technological dominion, threatens to reduce Canada to a waystation, a transient landscape whose resources and minds fuel the ambitions of other nations.
IF CANADA IS to reclaim its soul, it must abandon the illusion that quiet competence is a viable strategy in a world that rewards assertion. A nation that fails to define itself is eventually defined by others. The opportunity remains, but it is fleeting. The next great movements in AI, film, finance, and digital infrastructure will be forged with or without us. If we do not act with conviction, we will remain the supplier of raw materials for other country’s utopian futures.
The question is no longer whether Canada can compete – it is whether we will dare to lead. The world is not waiting. The only question that remains is whether Canada will choose to be remembered as a force that shaped history – or as a shadow that faded quietly into it.