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Graves and school murders? What were we thinking?

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From the Frontier Centre for Public Policy

By Brian Giesbrecht

The year 2021 was the year of the Kamloops graves.

It was the top news story of the year. It was reported by CBC and all mainstream media that ground penetrating radar had detected remains of 215 indigenous children who were found buried in the old apple orchard on the grounds of the former Kamloops Indian Residential School.

The burials had taken place in secrecy in the middle of the night. Priests and nuns, who were apparently responsible for the deaths, wanted to hide the results of their crimes and forced students, “as young as six” to dig the graves of their dead classmates.

Indigenous leaders claimed there were tens of thousands more murdered and secretly buried indigenous children across the length and breadth of Canada — children who “went to residential school and never returned.”

The Trudeau government ordered flags flown at half mast, where they remained for six months. It made $320,000,000 available to indigenous communities that wanted to search for more missing children. Many accepted the offer.

2023 was the year this whole story fell apart.

There were no secretly buried children.

There were no “thousands of missing children.”

The junior ground penetrating radar operator, Sarah Beaulieu, who made her sensational claim in 2021, had most likely mistaken the remnants of 1924 septic field trenches for graves.

The indigenous children who died at residential schools mostly died of tuberculosis, as did those who never attended a residential school. Most were buried on their home reserves and their burial places had simply been forgotten.

Simply put, all of the hysteria of 2021 over secret burials and missing children was for nothing. Canada had fallen for the biggest fake news story in the history of the nation.

A new book of essays by Professor Tom Flanagan and CP Champion examines how this false story took hold and how it was debunked.

Tom Flanagan is Canada’s foremost expert on indigenous issues. Champion is the editor of the Dorchester Review, where many of these valuable essays can be found.

The essays tell the story of how Canadians fell for a story that made no sense from the outset. Why would priests kill and secretly bury children? There was no historical record of any such events ever happening.

If the children went to the residential school “and never returned” wouldn’t there be some record of such a thing happening — a parent complaining, a police report, a complaint to a chief etc.? But there was no such thing.

The odd thing is that neither CBC nor practically any other reporter asked any such questions. They not only repeated the false claims, they amplified and exaggerated them. So 215 “soil disturbances” (which is what the radar had detected) became “human remains,” “bodies,, “graves” and even “mass graves.”

Conrad Black wrote the foreword to the book. Black is one of the few Canadians who recognized from the outset the Kamloops claim was absurd. Black was also one of the few writers who has consistently denounced the disgraceful claim that Canada is guilty of any kind of genocide.

He properly criticized former Chief Justice Beverly McLachlin when she first put forward the baseless claim in 2015 and he has consistently defended Canada against such slander.

The writers (disclosure: I am one) systematically take apart the false Kamloops and copycat claims. Professor Jacques Rouillard, using research done by Nina Green proves the deaths of the KIRS students who died while enrolled at the school were properly documented, that the deaths were mainly from the diseases of the day and that the children were almost all buried on their home reserves.

These children had not been buried in secrecy, they were never “missing” and there was absolutely nothing sinister about their deaths.

Children from the community who attended day schools, or didn’t attend school at all, died in similar numbers from the same diseases. Death from disease was simply a sad fact of life and had nothing to do with whether or not a child attended a residential school.

The only “evidence” that could possibly support the secret burial thesis — apart from the usual conspiracy theories that are told in every community — was the report from Sarah Beaulieu of soil disturbances detected by ground penetrating radar that she opined could be possible graves.

However, on closer inspection these claims fall apart. The authors expose Beaulieu’s negligence in failing to research previous excavations before recklessly venturing an opinion on such an important matter.

Her other mistaken assumptions, such as false reports about a child’s tooth and bone, are also exposed. It is noteworthy the T’kemlups Band originally promised to release Beaulieu’s report to the public but reneged on that promise when it became apparent the report was unreliable, just  as they have reneged on their stated intention to excavate.

The other essays examine the other claims made about evil priests, secret burials and missing children. The authors systematically dissect the claims, and expose them as the false claims that they are.

As for the claim there are “thousands of missing children” who are alleged to have entered residential schools “and never returned” to their parents, and now lie in “unmarked graves” Professor Flanagan puts it succinctly: These are not “missing children” — they are “forgotten children.” They now lie in unmarked graves for the simple reasons that their families didn’t keep up their gravesites and forgot about them.

The current grave-searching mania now occurring in indigenous communities is fueled by the $320,000,000 that then Indigenous Affairs Minister Marc Miller dangled before poor indigenous communities like golden carrots.

Other essays in the book examine other common misconceptions about residential schools, generally. One of the most persistent is the claim — consistently made by CBC for two decades — that “150,000 children were forced to attend” residential schools.

This claim is completely untrue.

Prior to 1920, status Indian parents were not required by law to send their children to any school — and most didn’t. After 1920, status Indian parents could choose between sending their children to day schools or residential schools. It is only where no day school was available that parents were required to send their children to residential schools.

But even then, there was seldom enforcement of that law. Only in the case of orphans or severe child neglect (usually due to alcohol abuse) was parental consent dispensed with (for obvious reasons).

CBC has been advised of their repeated reporting error, but continues to push this misinformation. Their justification for doing so is a word salad of obfuscation that is either meant to mislead or shows incompetence on their part.

In sum, the hysteria following the May 2021 announcement 215 “graves” had been discovered at Kamloops is not something that is easily explained. Why most Canadians seemed willing to accept such a preposterous claim in the first place will be a subject for historians and psychologists for decades.

Why the Trudeau government — without a shred of real evidence — ordered flags lowered for months; why the CBC and other mainstream media failed to ask even the most elementary questions about claims that they must have known were false; why indigenous leaders decided to put forward a false narrative that they must have known would eventually be exposed as a fraud — these are all questions examined in the revealing essays in this important book.

Although CBC — and even government publications — continue to put out fatuous claims about “graves,” “probable graves” and “human remains” the international community concluded some time ago that Canada succumbed to some kind of mass hysteria in May 2021, when the preposterous Kamloops claim was first made.

Was this national gullibility related to the strange lockdown years? Was it “Canada’s George Floyd moment? Was it “Canada’s woke nightmare?”

These are questions readers can ask themselves when reading these essays. Professor Flanagan and Chris Champion deserve a lot of credit for swimming against a tide of wokeness to put out this important book.

They are part of a research group  — not afraid to be called “deniers” — who wrote the essays published in the book and initiated the Indian Residential School Research Group where additional information can be found.

For original documents and primary sources readers can go to indianresidentialschoolrecords.com.

In May of 2021, Canadians fell for “fake news”.  There is an old saying: “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me”.

This book should be read with that saying in mind.

Together with the question: “What were we thinking?”

Brian Giesbrecht, retired judge, is a Senior Fellow at the Frontier Centre for Public Policy.

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Chainsaws and Scalpels: How Governments Choose

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The Audit

 David Clinton

Javier Milei in Argentina, Musk and Ramaswamy in the US.. What does DOGE in Canada look like?

Under their new(ish) president Javier Milei, Argentina cut deeply and painfully into their program spending to address a catastrophic economic crisis. And they seem to have enjoyed some early success. With Elon Musk now primed to play a similar role in the coming Trump administration in the U.S., the obvious question is: how might such an approach play out in Canada?

Sure. We’re not suffering from headaches on anything like the scale of Argentina’s – the debt we’ve run up so far isn’t in the same league as the long-term spending going on in South America. But ignoring the problems we do face can’t be an option. Given that the annual interest payments on our existing national debt are $11.7 billion (which equals seven percent of total expenditures), simply balancing the budget won’t be enough.

The underlying assumption powering the question is that we live in a world of constraints. There just isn’t enough money to buy everything we might want, so we need to both prioritize and become more efficient. It’s about figuring out what can no longer be justified – even if it does provide some value – and what’s just plain wasteful.

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Some of this may seem obvious. After all, when there are First Nations reserves without clean water and millions of Canadians without access to primary care physicians, how can we justify spending hundreds of millions of dollars funding arts projects that virtually no one will ever discover, much less consume?

Apparently not everyone sees things that way. Large governments operate by reacting to political, social, and chaos-driven incentives. Sometimes those incentives lead to rational choices, and sometimes not. But mega-sized organizations tend to lack the self-awareness and capacity to easily change direction.

And some basic problems have no obvious solutions. As I’ve written, there’s a real possibility that all the money in the world won’t buy the doctors, nurses, and integrated systems we need. And “all the money in the world” is obviously not on the table. So the well-meaning bureaucrat might conclude that if you’re not going to completely solve the big problems, you might as well try to manage them while investing in other areas, too.

Still, I think it’s worth imagining how things might look if we could launch a comprehensive whole-of-government program review.

How Emergency Cuts Might Play Out

Imagine the federal government defaulted on its debt servicing payments and lost access to capital markets. That’s not such an unlikely scenario. There would suddenly be a lot less money available to spend, and some programs would have to be shut down. Protecting emergency and core services would require making fast – and smart – decisions.

We would need to take a long, hard look at this important enumeration of government expenditures. There probably wouldn’t be enough time to bridge the gap by looking for dozens of less-critical million-dollar programs. We would need to find some big-ticket items fast.

Our first step might be to pause or restructure larger ongoing payments, like projects funded through the Canada Infrastructure Bank (total annual budget: $3.45 billion). Private investors might pick up some of the slack, or some projects could simply go into hibernation. “Other interest costs” (total annual budget: $4.6 billion) could also be restructured.

Reducing equalization payments (total annual budget: $25.2 billion) and territorial financing (total budget: $5.2 billion) might also be necessary. This would, of course, spark parallel crises at lower levels of government. Similarly, grants to settle First Nations claims (total budget: $6 billion) managed by Crown-Indigenous Relations and Northern Affairs Canada would also be at least temporarily cut.

All that would be deeply painful and trigger long-term negative consequences.

But there’s a far better approach that could be just as effective and a whole lot less painful:

What an All-of-Government Review Might Discover

Planning ahead would allow you the luxury of targeting spending that – in some cases at least – wouldn’t even be missed. Think about programs that were announced five, ten, even thirty years ago, perhaps to satisfy some passing fad or political need. They might even have made sense decades ago when they were created…but that was decades ago when they were created.

Here’s how that’ll work. When you read through the program and transfer spending items on that government expenditures page (and there are around 1,200 of those items), the descriptions all point to goals that seem reasonable enough. But there are some important questions that should be asked about each of them:

  • When did these programs begin?
  • What specific activities do they involve?
  • What have they accomplished over the past 12 months?
  • Is their effectiveness trending up or down?
  • Are they employing efficiency best-practices used in the private sector?
  • Who’s tasked with monitoring changes?
  • Where are their reports published?

To show you what I mean, here are some specific transfer or program line items and their descriptions:

Department of Employment and Social Development

  • Workforce Development Agreements ($722 million)
  • Indigenous Early Learning and Child Care Transformation Initiative ($374 million)
  • Payments to provinces, territories, municipalities, other public bodies, organizations, groups, communities, employers and individuals for the provision of training and/or work experience, the mobilization of community resources, and human resource planning and adjustment measures necessary for the efficient functioning of the Canadian labour market ($856 million)

Department of Industry

  • Contributions under the Strategic Innovation Fund ($2.4 billion)

Department of Citizenship and Immigration

  • Settlement Program ($1.13 billion)

Department of Indigenous Services

  • Contributions to provide income support to on-reserve residents and Status Indians in the Yukon Territory ($1.05 billion). Note that, as of the 2021 Census, there were 9,150 individuals with North American Indigenous origins in Yukon. Assuming the line item is accurately described, that means the income support came to $114,987/person (not per household; per person).

Each one of those (and many, many others like them) could be case studies in operational efficiency and effectiveness. Or not. But there’s no way we could know that without serious research.

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Energy

Ottawa’s proposed emission cap lacks any solid scientific or economic rationale

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From the Fraser Institute

By Jock Finlayson and Elmira Aliakbari

Forcing down Canadian oil and gas emissions within a short time span (five to seven years) is sure to exact a heavy economic price, especially when Canada is projected to experience a long period of weak growth in inflation-adjusted incomes and GDP per person.

After two years of deliberations, the Trudeau government (specifically, the Environment and Climate Change Canada department) has unveiled the final version of Ottawa’s plan to slash greenhouse gas emissions (GHGs) from the oil and gas sector.

The draft regulations, which still must pass the House and Senate to become law, stipulate that oil and gas producers must reduce emissions by 35 per cent from 2019 levels by between 2030 and 2032. They also would establish a “cap and trade” regulatory regime for the sector. Under this system, each oil and gas facility is allocated a set number of allowances, with each allowance permitting a specific amount of annual carbon emissions. These allowances will decrease over time in line with the government’s emission targets.

If oil and gas producers exceed their allowances, they can purchase additional ones from other companies with allowances to spare. Alternatively, they could contribute to a “decarbonization” fund or, in certain cases, use “offset credits” to cover a small portion of their emissions. While cutting production is not required, lower oil and gas production volumes will be an indirect outcome if the cost of purchasing allowances or other compliance options becomes too high, making it more economical for companies to reduce production to stay within their emissions limits.

The oil and gas industry accounts for almost 31 per cent of Canada’s GHG emissions, while transportation and buildings contribute 22 and 13 per cent, respectively. However, the proposed cap applies exclusively to the oil and gas sector, exempting the remaining 69 per cent of the country’s GHG emissions. Targeting a single industry in this way is at odds with the policy approach recommended by economists including those who favour strong action to address climate change.

The oil and gas cap also undermines the Trudeau government’s repeated claims that carbon-pricing is the main lever policymakers are using to reduce GHG emissions. In its 2023 budget (page 71), the government said “Canada has taken a market-driven approach to emissions reduction. Our world-leading carbon pollution pricing system… is highly effective because it provides a clear economic signal to businesses and allows them the flexibility to find the most cost-effective way to lower their emissions.”

This assertion is vitiated by the expanding array of other measures Ottawa has adopted to reduce emissions—hefty incentives and subsidies, product standards, new regulations and mandates, toughened energy efficiency requirements, and (in the case of oil and gas) limits on emissions. Most of these non-market measures come with a significantly higher “marginal abatement cost”—that is, the additional cost to the economy of reducing emissions by one tonne—compared to the carbon price legislated by the Trudeau government.

And there are other serious problems with the proposed oil and gas emissions gap. For one, emissions have the same impact on the climate regardless of the source; there’s no compelling reason to target a single sector. As a group of Canadian economists wrote back in 2023, climate policies targeting specific industries (or regions) are likely to reduce emissions at a much higher overall cost per tonne of avoided emissions.

Second, forcing down Canadian oil and gas emissions within a short time span (five to seven years) is sure to exact a heavy economic price, especially when Canada is projected to experience a long period of weak growth in inflation-adjusted incomes and GDP per person, according to the OECD and other forecasting agencies. The cap stacks an extra regulatory cost on top of the existing carbon price charged to oil and gas producers. The cap also promises to foster complicated interactions with provincial regulatory and carbon-pricing regimes that apply to the oil and gas sector, notably Alberta’s industrial carbon-pricing system.

The Conference Board of Canada think-tank, the consulting firm Deloitte, and a study published by our organization (the Fraser Institute) have estimated the aggregate cost of the federal government’s emissions cap. All these projections reasonably assume that Canadian oil and gas producers will scale back production to meet the cap. Such production cuts will translate into many tens of billions of lost economic output, fewer high-paying jobs across the energy supply chain and in the broader Canadian economy, and a significant drop in government revenues.

Finally, it’s striking that the Trudeau government’s oil and gas emissions cap takes direct aim at what ranks as Canada’s number one export industry, which provides up to one-quarter of the country’s total exports. We can’t think of another advanced economy that has taken such a punitive stance toward its leading export sector.

In short, the Trudeau government’s proposed cap on GHG emissions from the oil and gas industry lacks any solid scientific, economic or policy rationale. And it will add yet more costs and complexity to Canada’s already shambolic, high-cost and ever-growing suite of climate policies. The cap should be scrapped, forthwith.

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