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ESG, DEI, and the Rise of Fake Reporting

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27 minute read

From the Brownstone Institute

By Paul Frijters, Gigi Foster and Michael Baker

We know that the modern West has developed a jaw-dropping degree of totalitarianism, wherein the bureaucracies of the state and the corporate sector coordinate together to cripple humans outside their power networks and media channels. But what are the mechanics of this coordination? To understand one of the games they play, consider the rise of measures and standards associated with DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) and ESG (Environmental, Social, and Governance) – both occupants of a highly abstract thought dimension and the latter an especially incomprehensible word salad.

ESG as a phrase was coined in a 2006 United Nations report, gradually gaining adoption by private companies like BlackRock via the production of annual ESG reports. Governments then started supporting these voluntary efforts, and eventually began making them mandatory. Since early 2023, corporations in the EU have been compelled to report on ESG. Many US companies with subsidiaries in the EU must observe both US and European rules, and those in the Asia-Pacific region too are starting to follow the ESG reporting pantomime.

In brief, ESG originated at the level of the international and intellectual stratosphere and then grew, unchecked by tedious real-world constraints like scarcity and tradeoffs, as a kind of malignant joint venture between large government bureaucracies and large corporations.

This JV is a serious industry, offering lucrative money-making opportunities for consulting companies, fund managers, and assorted professionals who ‘help’ companies comply. Bahar Gidwani, co-founder of a company called CSRHub, a compiler and provider of ESG company ratings, estimates that the collection of ESG data alone is already costing companies $20 billion worldwide.

It is an expanding industry too, since the reporting requirements keep increasing: according to recent reports, the head of the US Securities and Exchange Commission estimates that the cost of ESG reporting by the companies it oversees could quadruple to $8.4 billion this year, primarily due to the introduction of more ESG requirements. And that’s just in the US.

Large reporting costs are easier for large companies to bear, which offers a clue to why they’re interested: this sort of burden, particularly when made compulsory by the state, helps them dominate their smaller competitors.

DEI is the younger brother of ESG. At present, DEI reporting is not yet compulsory, but about 16% of the biggest US firms have open DEI reports, and the DEI fad is growing, perhaps eventually to eclipse ESG. Just as with ESG, DEI originates from the grandiose world of fluffy abstractions, big corporations, and governments. Despite efforts to make it appear otherwise, it is not grassroots at all.

The Benign-Sounding Aims of ESG

ESG measures and reports are supposedly about gauging whether the activities of corporations are ‘sustainable,’ and especially whether companies are reducing their carbon footprints. DEI is about whether a company’s employment practices promote gender and race ‘equality,’ provide ‘safe spaces,’ and rely on global supply chains that adhere to ‘fair’ practices. Most reasonable people would agree that many of these stated goals sound worthwhile in principle. What is being advocated sounds caring and does not, on the face of it, appear to be destructive in any way.

Yet, talk is always cheap. How do these pretty ideas get operationalized when they confront the harsh reality of measurement? Let us delve into a leading example from a company report.

Grab Holdings from Singapore

Many Asian companies are ensnared in the ESG compliance system because they are listed on Western financial exchanges. One such company is the Singapore-based ‘superapp’ Grab Holdings, listed on the Nasdaq. Its customers mainly interact with Grab Holdings via a mobile phone app, where they can buy many different services (food delivery, e-commerce, ride-hailing, financial services, etc.), hence the term ‘superapp.’

Grab is unprofitable but very visible. For the first half of 2023, it lost $398 million, on top of the $1.74 billion it lost in 2022. However, it operates in businesses — particularly food delivery and ride-hailing — with serious environmental and human impacts across a vast region encompassing 400 cities and towns in eight Southeast Asian countries. To anyone living where Grab operates, its fast-moving, green-helmeted motorcycle riders are as familiar as yellow taxis are to New Yorkers or red double-decker buses are to Londoners.

Grab’s business model is inherently not great for the safety of its drivers and the public. Grab uses routing and other technology to match riders with deliveries and to minimize both wait time for drivers and delivery times to customers. Scheduling is highly efficient because of the technology, which is to say that drivers are on tight schedules with razor-thin commissions.

To make a buck, the drivers for Grab (and its competitors) have to be brave and aggressive on the road. Some are real daredevils – the Evel Knievels of Southeast Asia – as we have personally witnessed. Not only that, but there is stiff competition in each of the markets in which Grab operates. Grab itself says that 72% of its five million drivers do double duty, performing both food deliveries and ride-hailing services. This makes the company a more efficient service provider across both cut-throat businesses and gives drivers the opportunity to earn more money.

Despite the fact that it doesn’t make a profit — at least not yet — Grab splashed out to produce an ESG report that in its last iteration (2022) was 74 pages long and almost as heroic as its drivers.

The introductory pages are taken up with the usual marketing talk, replete with large photos of company motorbike drivers grinning from ear to ear because, well, they are just so grateful to be part of such a great organization. The uniforms in the photos are smart and clean, in contrast to the reality which is that the drivers’ green uniforms are almost always greasy and grubby and the drivers often look, understandably, stressed and morose.

Deeper into the ESG report, Grab gives us 5 pages on how admirably it is performing regarding road safety, 8 pages on greenhouse gas emissions, 1 on air quality, 4 on food packaging waste and 8 on inclusiveness.

Pantomime One: Road Safety

The part of the report on road safety is of special interest, since Southeast Asia’s roads have a deservedly deadly reputation for motorcyclists, and much of the mayhem is provided by the delivery drivers themselves. For example, one study in Malaysia reported that 70% of food delivery motorcyclists drivers broke traffic rules during delivery, and the kinds of violations covered the waterfront: illegal stopping, running red lights, talking on the phone while riding, riding in the wrong direction, and making illegal U-turns. The statistics on crashes involving these drivers make for grim reading.

Other studies based on rider surveys tell an even grimmer story. A 2021 survey of food delivery drivers in Thailand found that 66% of the more than 1,000 respondents had been in one to four accidents while working, with 28% reporting more than five. This squares with reputation: in countries like Thailand, where enforcement of traffic laws is the exception rather than rule, dangerous driving by two-wheelers is famously awful.

So it is with some surprise that one reads in Grab’s ESG report that there is only just under one accident for every million rides involving a Grab delivery driver. That is an incidence at least one hundred times lower than the incidence implied in self-reports. One may assume that many accidents involving delivery drivers are not reported to the company, particularly those involving no or minor injuries, or where the driver is concerned that he will lose his job.

This latter concern is not trivial, since Grab claims that it has a zero-tolerance policy toward violators of the company’s Code of Conduct, which includes failure to follow road rules. This means the count of accidents per ride is a shaky number at best. The report doesn’t really say where the company gets this number from, so it could well be made up out of thin air, though presumably whoever wrote it down had some rationale in mind. One might imagine something like “Sounds low, and dumb Westerners will believe it.”

Pantomime Two: Grab’s Strategy for Saving the Planet

After dispensing with the road safety issue, Grab’s ESG report moves on to how the company is saving the planet. The company’s greenhouse gas emissions rose during the course of the year because of ‘normalization’ after covid, but the report’s author disingenuously sidesteps the problem by saying that most of the emissions were made from vehicles that were owned by the ‘driver-partners’ rather than the company itself. So, with direct blame for GHG emissions dodged, the company’s priority is stated as to ‘support our driver-partners in transitioning to low emission vehicles and encouraging zero-emission modes of transport.’

It really isn’t clear how that fluffy ‘transition’ might come about, since conventional motorcycles are a cheap and convenient form of transport in Southeast Asia, easily outcompeting other available options for the coal-face work required by Grab’s business model. The report says it will encourage cycling, walking, and EVs. The first two are obviously out of the question in most instances for food delivery, and as for the third, for the overwhelming majority of two-wheeler drivers, upgrading to an EV is a pipe dream (or pipe nightmare, depending on how much they know about EV recharging, weight, and maintenance issues).

One of the beauties of Grab being a platform that connects eateries with drivers without actually operating restaurants itself is that – as with GHG emissions – food packaging waste isn’t really Grab’s direct responsibility. It is the responsibility of the restaurants and food manufacturers, like the owners of the factories that make all those nasty little sachets of ketchup, soy sauce, and other condiments.

Brilliant! With this sleight of hand squarely in frame, this part of the ESG report then writes itself as an exercise in hand-wringing, admitting with furrowed brow that food packaging waste is a serious problem, and stating that the company’s goal is ‘Zero packaging waste in Nature by 2040.’ Exactly what this means and how it is to be accomplished is shrouded in mystery, but to anyone whose beach holidays have ever been marred by the ugly sight of plastic litter on the shoreline, it sounds awfully good.

Pantomime Three: Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion

Most of this section of the report consists of descriptive marketing: saying all the right things and showcasing the occasional shining example, without getting into too much detail. The main statistics given are that 43% of Grab’s employees are women and 34% of those in ‘leadership positions’ are women. Well, maybe that could be true if one counts the few thousand direct employees, including a lot of secretaries, but omits the five million ‘driver-partners’ who are overwhelmingly male. The report also says that female employees earn 98% of what men do, which presumably means that the odd male secretary is treated just as badly as his female colleagues.

This section of the report showcases other inventive labeling. We are told the company has ‘Inclusion Champions,’ collectively a group of employees who ‘contribute to inclusion through crowdsourcing of ideas and on-ground feedback for better inclusion initiatives. They also help to identify and coach fellow Grab employees towards more inclusive behaviour, and will co-drive projects that help drive inclusion.’ Who knows what that really means? One might guess that ‘crowdsourcing ideas’ is the new term for having a suggestion box, and that pretty much every email sent by HR can be contrived to be a form of ‘inclusive’ coaching.

Grab’s report thus seems like it addresses ESG- and DEI-related issues, but no real-world mechanism ties them to actual outcomes, and there is no realistic external verification. Even seemingly simple things, like counting how much fuel a company buys directly for its processes and thereby estimating the size of its ‘carbon footprint,’ are like child’s play to game, as demonstrated by Grab’s masterly reporting: simply forcing workers and subsidiaries to buy their own fuel (compensated via higher wages or other things) will make the footprint of the company itself seem dramatically lower, while requiring nothing substantial to change. It’s all an elaborate show.

Who’s Asking for This Crap?

Though specious, unverifiable, and mostly made up, ESG reporting is a way to formally present a company’s ‘ESG performance.’ This performance can theoretically be ‘scored’ by some third party, and thereby compared with that of other companies. If ESG is valued highly by consumers, then companies that get high scores should attract a disproportionate amount of investment, meaning that their cost of capital will be lower than companies who don’t score so well – the magic through which a bullshit report is turned into a business opportunity.

This also makes delicious fodder for fund managers, who can bundle firms’ stock into ‘ESG funds’ or ‘sustainable funds’ or whatever, and charge investors fat fees for the privilege of investing in them. Fund managers also have another motivation to egg on more ESG reporting: their funds are designed not to green the world or make it a nicer place, but rather to highlight which companies will adapt best and thrive the most in a world where ‘progress’ toward ESG goals (for example, ‘net zero’) is actually being made.

How big is this market? According to Morningstar, by the end of the third quarter of 2023, global ‘sustainable’ funds numbered more than 7,600, of which nearly 75% were in Europe and 10% in the US. These funds had assets of $2.7 trillion. However, global inflows into these funds have been falling sharply since the first quarter of 2022. While they have still been attracting more inflows than non-sustainability funds in Europe, this is not true in the US. Amid waning interest in the US, fewer and fewer new ESG funds are being launched, and in 3Q2023 there were more ESG fund exits than new arrivals.

During the first two years of covid, American ESG stocks outperformed conventional stocks by a wide margin. This is not surprising since technology companies did rather well out of lockdowns, and they also have high ESG scores because of their lower carbon footprints than miscreant ‘old economy’ companies. Still, since the start of 2022, ESG stocks have fallen back and now are only just edging the market. Indicatively, in the seven quarters ending September 30, 2023, the S&P ESG Index was down 7.3%, while the S&P 500 was down 9.4%.

Importantly, many ESG fund investors themselves are government-type entities, like public pension funds, where the distance between investment decision and personal consequence is about as big as it gets. So often the ultimate payers for this circus are the general population whose pensions are, unbeknown to themselves, being used for virtue-signaling by public fund managers.

Who Wins and Who Loses?

Learning how to write up and cheat with these performance reports requires a lot of resources, but once a company antes up, the game becomes easy to play. ESG reporting is just one example of the broader reality that compliance with external bureaucracies requires largely a one-off fixed cost, and in this case the cost is often large enough to bankrupt a small firm. This means that, just as bizarre covid-era rules were a gift of competitive advantage to big companies, ESG and DEI reporting is a mechanism through which big companies can pressurize and even get rid entirely of smaller ones.

This, we think, is the reason why bullshit reporting is not getting pushback from the largest companies that don’t already have natural monopolies: plainly, it suits their purposes. They are big enough to absorb the cost without a major effect on the bottom line, and they are getting in return a stronger position in their markets. They naturally support the big bureaucracies that make these reports compulsory. Big consulting companies, and the aforementioned fund managers, also love the idea of compulsory reporting because it creates business for them.

On this very issue, Michael Shellenberger opined recently on Tucker Carlson’s channel that big traditional energy companies were led by cowards who had been “bullied into submission:” that the ESG movement had “used political activism and the pension funds to put pressure on the oil and gas industries to basically sell out their main product.” He called the ESG movement an “anti-human death cult” and asserted that “it’s finally becoming obvious to people that it’s a scam.”

On the lattermost point, we hope he’s right.

Yet, the scam is still spreading, as there are plenty more unproductive people eager to climb aboard. The push for companies to jump on the ESG reporting bandwagon is not confined to the West. Regulators in Asia are also pushing — harder in some countries, like Singapore, than in others — to make ESG reporting mandatory rather than optional. Sensing a huge opportunity to divert valuable resources their way, a posse of consulting firms are also coming after companies to advise them on how they can bridge the ESG gap with the more advanced West. Companies in Asia are starting to fall in line and dutifully churn out their ESG reports, breathing more life into the scam.

Will This Eventually Crash and Burn?

Hard-nosed managers of big firms understand that bullshit reporting requirements can be a source of competitive advantage, causing financial distress for their smaller competitors. What is in the whole charade for the state bureaucracy and the corporate bureaucracy is that it makes them seem virtuous while creating a huge fog of mystery about what they are actually doing, thereby providing both jobs and cover.

Like the woke movement, ESG and DEI are at heart parasitical developments, originating from a decaying West, championed by the useless and the clueless, and benefiting the shrewd and the corrupt.

Such malignancies weaken our society and should be discarded at the earliest opportunity. Much like Elon Musk showed the door to 80% of Twitter staff with no loss of functionality, and just as we have advocated previously that 80% of employment in ‘health’ professions is useless, so too do we think that firing all professionals whose primary business involves ESG and DEI can be done without any loss of functionality. We don’t think this will happen anytime soon.

If it were to happen, what would one do with all those unproductive workers who have been dining on the ESG/DEI word-salad gravy trains for months or years? Paying them to paint rocks for a while would at least get them out of the way. Better still, taking a cue from what the Ontario College of Psychologists has suggested recently for Jordan Peterson, these people could be taken into the field to help communities struggling with actual problems, involving actual trade-offs, as part of a reeducation and retraining program aimed at making them useful to their societies once again.

Authors

  • Paul Frijters

    Paul Frijters, Senior Scholar at Brownstone Institute, is a Professor of Wellbeing Economics in the Department of Social Policy at the London School of Economics, UK. He specializes in applied micro-econometrics, including labor, happiness, and health economics Co-author of The Great Covid Panic.

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  • Gigi Foster

    Gigi Foster, Senior Scholar at Brownstone Institute, is a Professor of Economics at the University of New South Wales, Australia. Her research covers diverse fields including education, social influence, corruption, lab experiments, time use, behavioral economics, and Australian policy. She is co-author of The Great Covid Panic.

    VIEW ALL POSTS 

  • Michael Baker

    Michael Baker has a BA (Economics) from the University of Western Australia. He is an independent economic consultant and freelance journalist with a background in policy research.

    VIEW ALL POSTS 

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Paying for Trudeau’s EV Gamble: Ottawa Bought Jobs That Disappeared

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Marco Navarro-Génie's avatar Marco Navarro-Génie

The jobs promised by the thousands never arrived. The debacle of Trudeau’s gamble in the EV sector offers a dire warning about Carney’s plans to “invest” in the economy of the future.

Every age invents new names for old mistakes. Ours calls them investments. Before the Carney government reluctantly unveils its November budget and promises another future paid for in advance, Canadians should remember Ingersoll, one of the last places their leaders tried to buy tomorrow.

In December 2022, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau told Canadians that government backing would help General Motors turn its Ingersoll plant into a beacon of green industry [See image above]. “We made investments to help GM retool this plant,” he wrote online, “and by 2025 it will be producing fifty thousand electric vehicles per year.” [That would mean 137 vehicles each day, or about six vehicles every hour]. It sounded like renewal. Supposedly, this was how the innumerate prime minister was building the economy of the future. In truth, it became an expensive demonstration of how progressive governments love to peddle rampant spending for sound strategy (1)(2).

On the whole, the Trudeau government boasted of having pledged over $50 billion in subsidies to various companies in the EV sector, some of which are failing and most of which are scaling down and exporting production capability to the US. The much-promised benefits have not materialized (3).

The specific Ingersoll plan began with 259 million dollars from Ottawa through the Strategic Innovation Fund and the Net Zero Accelerator. Ontario matched it with another 259 million. The half-billion-plus subsidy financed the plant’s switch from gasoline-powered Equinox production to BrightDrop electric delivery vans. Added to that were the usual incentives: research credits, accelerated write-downs, and energy subsidies. The promise was the mythical creation of thousands of “good middle-class jobs” (4)(5).

At the time, the CAMI Assembly plant employed about two thousand workers. When it closed for retooling in 2022, employment fell to almost none. The reopening in 2023 restored roughly 1,600 across two shifts. A year later, as orders slowed, one shift was cut and employment fell to about 1,300. By early 2025, layoffs cut the number to around eight hundred, and by October that year, when GM confirmed the end of BrightDrop production, fewer than seven hundred remained. The workforce had collapsed by nearly two-thirds from its pre-electric-vehicle conversion level. In statistical terms, two of the three employees the PM used for the photo-op in Ingersoll three years ago are unemployed today. That’s some economic performance.

The numbers expose the illusion. With 518 million dollars in public funds and only about 3,500 vans built in 2024, taxpayers paid about 148 thousand dollars for each vehicle GM produced. Counting only the federal contribution still yields $74,000 per van. Divided by the remaining jobs, the subsidy works out to more than half a million dollars per worker. The arithmetic refutes the fantasy of Prime Minister Trudeau’s speeches (10).

We are in 2025. Today is the future the Liberals promised the country. Neither Ottawa nor Queen’s Park will dwell on the above-stated facts today. When Crown Royal closed a plant in 2024, Premier Ford posed before the cameras and dumped a bottle of whisky to protest lost jobs. Now that a multinational massively subsidized by his own government has cut its workforce in Ingersoll by two-thirds, he will not torch a van or denounce General Motors from the front steps of Queen’s Park. It is easier to rage at private enterprise than to admit one’s own complicity (11).

The failure in Ingersoll was entirely predictable. Government enthusiasm outran commercial sense. The BrightDrop vans entered a market already filled by cheaper competitors in the United States and Asia. Demand never met expectation. Parking lots filled with unsold inventory. A company that lives by numbers did the rational thing: it slowed production, cut staff, and left. The Canadian taxpayer, bound by law and habit, stays behind to pay the bill (12).

The story reveals the weakness of Canada’s industrial policy and the ignorance of its political class. Instead of creating conditions for enterprise, such as reliable energy, stable regulation, and moderate taxes, progressive governments spend on applause. They judge success by the number of jobs announced, yet those very jobs vanish once the cameras go home. When the invoices arrive, they are paid by citizens, not by those who made the promises.

Subsidy breeds its own demand. Once one firm is rewarded, others line up to ask for the same. Lobbying replaces competition. Politicians, afraid to seem heartless, keep writing cheques. Each new administration claims to be more strategic than the last, yet the pattern persists. Canada announces, subsidizes, and retreats. No country ever bought its way into competitiveness, and none ever will.

Trudeau once said his government had “bet big on electric vehicles.” Betting big with other people’s money is not vision but gambling. The wager was not on technology or productivity but on narrative, on the naive idea that a moral intention [to save the planet] could replace market reality. The result was fewer jobs, a product the market did not want, and a claim of success that no longer convinced anyone. But Ontarians gave him their vote for it (1).


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Premier Ford deserves no exemption. He campaigned on fiscal restraint and common sense, then followed Ottawa’s lead as if confused by his own rhetoric. His government’s matching subsidy gave the federal scheme the appearance of consensus; he legitimized the scheme. When it failed, he shared the liability and the silence. To underwrite failure once is an error; that they keep repeating it for political cover while the public supports them is folly (11).

Industrial policy in a free society should respect the limits of government competence and resist the fantasy of juvenile ideology. The state can uphold contract law and ensure that citizens have the skills to compete. It has a mixed record in building infrastructure. It cannot direct markets better than those who live or die by them. When it tries, it presents the size of a grant for the value of a result. Governments announce job numbers because they are visible. Productivity and value creation are not. Yet it is productivity that sustains work and dignity, not the temporary employment that disappears when the subsidy runs out or when the companies betray the deal.

The Ingersoll experiment also exposes a moral weakness that the public often falls for. Spending is treated as proof of caring. Subsidy is renamed investment (more on this coming soon). Failure is described as transition. When costs rise and goals vanish, the story is rewritten as a necessary learning curve. Yet nothing is learned, because the same people who lost public money yesterday are trusted with more tomorrow. That is not innovation but inertia.

A free economy does not need bribery to breathe. It requires the discipline of risk and the liberty to fail without dragging a country with it. Ingersoll was not undone by technology but by conceit. Prosperity cannot be decreed, and markets cannot be commanded into obedience.

That was Trudeau, the current PMO occupants will say. But Mark Carney has mastered the same rhetorical sleight that defined Trudeau’s industrial crusade. Spending becomes “investment,” and programs become “platforms.” Ahead of his first budget, he has declared that his government would “catalyze unprecedented investments in Canada over the next five years,” even as he announced departmental cuts and fiscal restraint. He will invest more and spend less, they say. The vocabulary of ambition disguises the contradiction. Billions for housing, energy, and “resilience” are presented not as costs but as commitments to a “higher” economic purpose. His plan for a new federal housing agency with thirteen billion dollars in start-up capital is billed as an investment in the future, though it is, in substance, immediate public spending under a moral banner (13)(14) they had dragged for years.

Carney’s speeches in Parliament and before cameras follow the same pattern of incantation. “We can build big. Build bold. Build now. Build one Canadian economy,” he told the House in June. In October, he promised that “the decades-long process of an ever-closer economic relationship between the Canadian and U.S. economies is over … we will invest in new infrastructure and industrial capacity to reduce our vulnerabilities.” The cadence of certainty masks the absence of limits, just like Justin’s promises. It’s hubris without ability. In their minds, announcing “investment” becomes a synonym for action itself, and ambition replaces accountability (15).

The structure of this rhetoric is identical to the Ingersoll fiasco. Then, as now, the government announced a future built on “investment,” fifty thousand vehicles a year, thousands of secure jobs, abundant prosperity and a greener tomorrow. Vast sums of money were spent supposedly to create that future before a single market test was conducted. Instead, the result was fewer jobs and no market at all.

Carney’s program of “building the future economy” repeats that template: promise vast returns from state-directed spending, redefine subsidy as vision, and rely on tomorrow to conceal today’s bill. The vocabulary of investment has become the language of evasion, reflecting its etymological origins in the Latin “investire,” which originally meant “to clothe.” In the way that politicians use it today, it is a return to its meaning of concealment. It has become a way to describe the use of public money without admitting the massive risk of loss.

As the Carney government prepares its first budget, Canadians should remember what happened when their leader last tried to buy a future with lavish “investment.” Another round of extravagant spending promises is already upon us: new partnerships, new funds with new names, new assurances that this time will be different.

But it will not be different. Judging by all the pre-budget warnings that “sacrifices will need to be made,” it will be worse. In that warning, Carney presupposes that the elderly who have been choosing between eating and heating their home, mothers standing in line at food banks, the record MAiD users, and the young people who have lost hope of emerging out of parental basements to dwellings they can own have all been lying on a bed of roses this last decade of Liberal rule.

The Ingersoll debacle, a foolishly ideological $500-million-plus gamble, is emblematic, of course. It is just the tip of the Liberals’ iceberg of waste. So when you hear Prime Minister Carney tell Canadians they must prepare to sacrifice, remember the long string of Ingersolls his party has gifted this country in recent years. The path of sacrifice the Liberals want now Canadians to walk is paved with the rubble of their own multibillion-dollar blunders.

Every age invents new names for old mistakes, almost as a way to excuse them, and then moves on, but ours invents new names and keeps making the same one over and over again. Entitled hubris knows no bounds.

The Liberal government is already messing up the economy of the present, and they badly botched the economy of the recent past. When using the same strategy clothed in varying language, the economy of the future will not fare better.

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CBC uses tax dollars to hire more bureaucrats, fewer journalists

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By Jen Hodgson

The Canadian Broadcasting Corporation is using taxpayer money to pad its bureaucracy, while reducing the number of journalists on staff, according to access-to-information records obtained by the Canadian Taxpayers Federation.

“CBC defends its very existence based on its journalism, but its number of journalists are going down while its bureaucracy keeps getting bigger and taxpayer costs keeps going up,” said Franco Terrazzano, CTF Federal Director. “Why does the government keep giving CBC more taxpayer money if barely anyone is watching and its number of journalists keeps going down?”

The CBC employed 745 staff with “journalist” or “reporter” in their job title in 2021. That number dropped to 649 by 2025, the records obtained by the CTF show. Of the 6,100 total employees disclosed by the records, just 11 per cent of CBC staff had “journalist” or “reporter” as their job title in 2025, according to the records.

Even journalist roles such as editors, producers and hosts declined between 2021 and 2025.

While the number of journalists employed by the state broadcaster fell, the number of other bureaucrats grew. The total number of CBC management positions increased to 949 in 2025, up from 935 in 2021.

Bureaucratic roles such as “administrators,” “advisors,” “analysts” and sales staff all increased steadily during the same period.

Management positions saw the steepest growth, with titles like “national director,” “project lead,” “senior manager” and “supervisor” leading the surge.

These trends undermine the CBC’s long-standing claim that its frontline journalism justifies its existence. Despite bureaucratic bloat and fewer journalism positions, the CBC continues to promote its news coverage as a reason it deserves more than $1 billion in annual taxpayer funding.

Separate access-to-information records obtained by the CTF show further proof of CBC’s bloated bureaucracy.

The CBC has more than 250 directors, 450 managers and 780 producers who are paid more than $100,000 per year.

The CBC also employed 130 advisers, 81 analysts, 120 hosts, 80 project leads, 30 lead architects, 25 supervisors, among other positions, who were paid more than $100,000 last year, according to access-to-information records. The CBC redacted the roles for more than 200 employees.

CBC’s CEO Marie-Philippe Bouchard insists the broadcaster is a “precious public asset” that provides “trustworthy news and information.”

CBC’s previous CEO, Catherine Tait, made similar comments throughout her 6.5-year tenure.

“A Canada without the CBC is a Canada without local news [in some places],” Tait said in 2022. If funding were withheld, there would be “fewer journalists to hold decision-makers at all levels to account.”’

“Local news is absolutely at the core of what we do,” Tait said in a 2020 interview. “Canadians are coming to the CBC in numbers like we’ve never seen before.”

However, CBC News Network only accounts for about 1.8 per cent of TV audience share, according to its own data.

Meanwhile, taxpayer funding to CBC will surpass $1.4 billion this year, according to the federal government’s Main Estimates. The broadcaster has spent about $5.4 billion of taxpayers’ money over the last five years, according to the government of Canada.

Prime Minister Mark Carney claimed “our public broadcaster is underfunded” during the federal election. He pledged an initial $150-million annual funding increase and said that number could rise even higher.

CBC paid out $18.4 million in bonuses in 2024 after it eliminated hundreds of jobs. Following backlash from across the political spectrum, CBC ended its bonuses and handed out record high pay raises costing $37.7 million.

“Taxpayers shouldn’t have to pay for an office full of middle managers pretending to be reporters,” Terrazzano said. “The CBC’s own records prove it has fat to cut and if Carney is serious about saving money, he would force CBC to cut its bureaucratic bloat.

“Or better yet, Carney should defund the CBC.”

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