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Why Everything We Thought About Drugs Was Wrong

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Michael Schellenberger is a leading environmentalist and progressive activist who has become disillusioned with the movements he used to help lead.  

His passion for the environment and progressive issues remains, but his approach is unique and valuable.

Michael Shellenberger is author of the best-selling “Apocalypse Never”

This newsletter was sent out to Michael Schellenberger’s subscribers on Substack

The road to hell was paved with victimology

In the late 1990s and early 2000s, I worked with a group of friends and colleagues to advocate drug decriminalization, harm reduction, and criminal justice reform. I helped progressive Congressperson Maxine Waters organize civil rights leaders to advocate for needle exchange so that heroin users wouldn’t get HIV-AIDS. I fought for the treatment of drug addiction as a public health problem not a criminal justice one. And we demanded that housing be given to the homeless without regard for their own struggles with drugs.

Our intentions were good. We thought it was irrational to criminalize the distribution of clean needles to drug users when doing so had proven to save lives. We were upset about mass incarceration, particularly of African Americans and Latinos, for nonviolent drug offenses. And we believed that the approach European nations like the Netherlands and Portugal had taken to decriminalize drugs, and expand drug treatment, was the right one.

But it’s obvious now that we were wrong. Over the last 20 years the U.S. liberalized drug laws. During that time, deaths from illicit drugs rose from 17,000 to 93,000. Three three times more people die from illicit drug use than from car accidents; five times more die from drugs than homicide. Many of those people are homeless and die alone in the hotel rooms and apartment units given away as part of the harm reduction-based “Housing First” approach to homelessness. Others are children found dead by their parents on the floors of their rooms.

Many progressives today say the problem is that we didn’t go far enough, and to some extent they are right. A big factor behind rising drug deaths has been the contamination of cocaine, heroin, and counterfeit prescription opioids with fentanyl. Others say that concerns over rising drug deaths are misplaced, and that alcohol and tobacco kill more people than illicit drugs.

But drug deaths were rising in the U.S. long before the arrival of fentanyl, and most of the people who die from tobacco and alcohol do so in old age, not instantly, like they do when they are poisoned or overdose. Of the nearly 90,000 people in the U.S. who die of alcohol-related causes annually, just 2,200 die immediately from acute alcohol poisoning.

What about mass incarceration? It’s true that nearly half of the people in federal prisons are there for nonviolent drug offenses. But there are eight times more people in state prisons than federal prisons, and just 14 percent of people in state prisons are there for nonviolent drug offenses and just 4 percent for nonviolent possession. Half of state prisoners are there for murder, rape, robbery and other violent offenses.

While it’s true that both Netherlands and Portugal reduced criminal penalties, both nations still ban drug dealing, arrest drug users, and sentence dealers and users to prison or rehabilitation. “If somebody in Portugal started injecting heroin in public,” I asked the head of drug policy in that country, “what would happen to them?” He said, without hesitation, “They would be arrested.”

And being arrested is sometimes what addicts need. “I am a big fan of mandated stuff,” said Victoria Westbrook. “I don’t recommend it as a way to get your life together, but getting indicted by the Feds worked for me. I wouldn’t have done this without them.” Today Victoria is working for the San Francisco city government to integrate ex-convicts back into society.

But people in progressive cities are today shouted down for even suggesting a role for law enforcement. “Anytime a person says, ‘Maybe the police and the health care system could work together?’ or, ‘Maybe we could try some probation or low-level arrests,’ there’s an enormous outcry,” said Stanford addiction specialist Keith Humphreys. “‘No! That’s the war on drugs! The police have no role in this! Let’s open up some more services and people will come in and use them voluntarily!’”

Why is that? Why, in the midst of the worst drug death crisis in world history, and the examples of Portugal and Netherlands, are progressives still opposed to shutting down the street fentanyl markets in places like San Francisco that are killing people?

We Care A Lot

The City of San Francisco opened this homeless encampment virtually on the front steps of city hall.

There are many financial interests that make money from the drug crisis and so it’s reasonable to ask whether progressive inaction stems from political donations from addiction, homelessness, and service providers. California spends more on mental health than any other state but saw its homeless population rise 31 percent even as it declined 18 percent in the rest of the U.S. San Francisco spends significantly more on cash welfare and housing for the homeless than other cities but has one of the worst homeless and drug death crises, per capita.

But we progressives who fought to change drug laws and attitudes were not primarily motivated by money. Sure, we needed George Soros and other wealthy individuals to support our work. But we could have made more money doing other things, and Soros and others have nothing to gain financially from drug decriminalization. The same goes for homelessness. The most influential Housing First advocates work in non-profits and universities.

Is it because so many progressives who fought for decriminalization themselves used drugs? Everybody I knew in that period, myself included, smoked marijuana, drank alcohol, and experimented with psychedelics and occasionally with harder drugs. Several of the donors who supported our work were known to smoke marijuana.

But I saw no evidence that advocates for drug decriminalization and harm reduction used illicit drugs at a higher rate than the rest of the population. Some used them less and showed far greater awareness of the harms of drugs, including addiction, than many other people I have met, likely due to their higher socio-economic status as much as their specific knowledge of the issue.

And the core motivation of the people I worked with was ideological. Many people, including many progressives, were libertarian, and fundamentally believed the government did not have a right to tell able-bodied adults what drugs they could and could not use. But many more, myself included, were upset by mass incarceration, and the ways in which incarceration destroys families, disproportionately African American and Latino ones.

Our views were too simplistic and wrong. Many things undermine families and communities, of all colors, well before anyone is incarcerated, including drugs and the crime and violence associated with them. And, violent communities attract the drug trade more than the drug trade makes communities violent, both scholars and journalists find.

But mostly we were too emotional. Progressives hold two moral values particularly deeply: caring and fairness. “Across many scales, surveys, and political controversies,” notes the psychologist Jonathan Haidt, “liberals turn out to be more disturbed by signs of violence and suffering, compared to conservatives, and especially to libertarians.”

The problem is that, in the process of valuing care so much, progressives abandon other important values, argue Haidt and other researchers in a field called Moral Foundations Theory. While progressives (“liberal” and “very liberal” people) hold the values of Caring, Fairness, and Liberty, they tend to reject the values of Sanctity, Authority, and Loyalty as wrong. Because these values are so deeply held, often subconsciously, Moral Foundations Theory explains well why so many progressives and conservatives today view each other as not merely uninformed but immoral.

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The Victim God

California Governor Gavin Newsome has proposed a 12 Billion dollar plan to build homes for California’s entire homeless population.  

The values of Sanctity and Authority appear to explain why conservatives and moderate Democrats more than progressives favor prohibitions on things like sleeping on sidewalks, public use of hard drugs, and other behaviors. In a more traditional morality, drug use is seen as violating the Sanctity of the body, and the importance of self-control. Sleeping on sidewalks is seen as violating the value of Authority of laws and thus Loyalty to America. Writes Haidt, “liberals are often willing to trade away fairness when it conflicts with compassion or their desire to fight oppression.”

But there is a twist. Progressives don’t trade away Fairness for victims, only for those they see as privileged. Progressives still value Fairness, but more for victims, and their progressive allies, than for everyone equally, and particularly not for people progressives view as the oppressors and victimizers.

Conservatives and moderates tend to define Fairness around equal treatment, including enforcement of the law. They tend to believe we should enforce the law against the homeless man who is sleeping and urinating on BART, our subway system, even if he is a victim. Progressives disagree. They demand we take into account that the man is a victim in deciding whether to arrest and how to sentence whole classes of people including the homeless, mentally ill, and addicts.

Progressives also value Liberty, or freedom, differently from conservatives. Many progressives reject the value of Liberty for Big Tobacco and cigarette smokers but embrace the value of Liberty for fentanyl dealers and users. Why? Because progressives view fentanyl dealers and users, who are disproportionately poor, sick, and nonwhite, as victims of a bad system.

Progressives also value Authority and Loyalty for victims above everyone else. San Francisco homelessness advocate Jennifer Friedenbach told me that we should “center unhoused people, primarily black and brown folks, that are experiencing homelessness, folks with disabilities. They’re the voices that should be centered.” She is not rejecting Authority or Loyalty. Rather, she is suggesting that we should have Loyalty to the victims, and that they, not governments, should have Authority.

Indeed, progressives insist on taking orders, supposedly without questioning them, from the homeless themselves. “Drug use is often the only thing that feels good for them, to oversimplify it,” said Kristen Marshall, who oversees San Francisco’s response to drug overdoses. “When you understand that, you stop caring about the drug use and ask people what they need.”

The San Francisco Coalition on Homelessness has similarly argued that the city must let homeless people sit and lie on sidewalks, and camp in public spaces including parks and sidewalks, if that’s what they would prefer, rather than require them to stay in shelters. Once you decide, in advance, to let victims determine their fates, then much else can be justified.

Many progressives do something similar with Sanctity, which is to value some things as sacred or pure. Monique Tula, the head of the Harm Reduction Coalition, argues for “bodily autonomy” against mandatory drug treatment for people who break the law to support their addiction. In so doing, she is insisting upon the Sanctity of the body, not rejecting it. The difference between her definition of Sanctity and the traditional view of Sanctity was what violated it. Where traditional morality views recreational injection drug use as a violation of the Sanctity of the body, Tula, like many libertarians, believes that the state coercing sobriety is.

All religions and moralities have light and dark sides, suggests Haidt. “Morality binds and blinds,” he writes. On the one hand, they bind us together in groups and societies, helping us realize our individual and social needs, and are thus very positive. But religions and moralities can also create giant blind spots preventing us from seeing our dark sides, and thus can be very negative.

Victimology takes the truth that it is wrong for people to be victimized and distorts it by going a step further. Victimology asserts that victims are inherently good because they have been victimized. It robs victims of their moral agency and creates double standards that frustrate any attempt to criticize their behavior, even if they’re behaving in self-destructive, antisocial ways like smoking fentanyl and living in a tent on the sidewalk. Such reasoning is obviously faulty. It purifies victims of all badness. But by appealing to emotion, victimology overrides reason and logic.

Victimology appears to be rising as traditional religions are declining. Unlike traditional religions, many nontraditional religions are largely invisible to the people who hold them most strongly. A secular religion like victimology is powerful because it meets the contemporary psychological, social, and spiritual needs of its believers, but also because it appears obvious, not ideological, to them. Advocates of “centering” victims, giving them special rights, and allowing them to behave in ways that undermine city life, don’t believe, in my experience, that they are adherents to a new religion, but rather that they are more compassionate and more moral than those who hold more traditional views.

A Bad Case of San Fransickness

Case workers at San Francisco City Hall Homeless Encampment

“Safe Sleeping Sites” is the name San Francisco gives to parking lots of tents of homeless addicts shooting and smoking fentanyl and meth. They are expensive, costing the city $60,000 per tent to maintain. Some people say they look like a natural disaster, but with city-funded social workers providing services to the people in tents, they look to me more like a medical experiment, albeit one that no board of ethics would ever permit.

At the Sites the city isn’t providing drug treatment; it’s providing easy access to drugs. That includes cash in the form of welfare payments with which to purchase drugs, and the equipment with which to inject them. As such, progressives cities like San Francisco are directly financing the drug death crisis.

Is this Munchausen syndrome by proxy, which is when a parent deliberately makes their child sick so they can feel important? In San Fransicko, I consider this possibility, and ultimately conclude that while the progressive approach to drug addiction and homelessness can be fairly described as pathological altruism, it would be unfair to call it sadistic. Many of the drug-addicted and mentally ill homeless are, in fact, sick, and most progressives have good intentions.

But it is not unfair to point out that the city’s approach of playing the Rescuer is resulting in worsening addiction and rising drug deaths. Nor is it unfair to point out that we limit people’s potential for freedom by labeling them Victims and “centering” their trauma, rather than viewing victimization as an opportunity for heroism. Nor is it unfair to point out, as I have attempted to do by describing the history, that San Francisco’s political, business, and cultural leaders should all know better by now.

People suffering from addiction and living on the street are ill. To mix them up in speech and policy with people who are merely poor is deceptive. Leading scholars have for thirty years denounced the conflation of the merely poor with disaffiliated addicts. Yet progressive advocates for the homeless continue to engage in the same sleight of hand by using the single term “homeless,” tricking journalists, policy makers, and the public into mixing together groups of people who require different kinds of help.

Progressives justify their discourse and agenda in the name of preventing dehumanization, but the effect has been the opposite. In defending the humanity of addicts, progressives ended up defending the inhumane conditions of street addiction.

The morality of victimology contains a version of all six values identified in Moral Foundations Theory. The problem is that those values are oriented around those defined as Victims in a particular context, to the exclusion of everyone else. But not even the most devoted homeless activists could do whatever drug-addicted homeless people demand of them. The demand that we give Victims special political authority is thus really a demand to give special political authority to those who claim to represent the supposed Victims, namely homelessness advocates.

The power of victimology lies in its moralizing discourse more than in any single set of laws. I was struck in my research that progressive intellectuals and activists have had a far greater impact on public policy, and the reality on the streets, than countless progressive politicians.

It is notable that while academics and activists are the most influential individuals in shaping homeless policy in San Francisco and Los Angeles, they are also the least accountable. As the problem has worsened, their cultural and political power has grown, while voters understandably blame their local elected leaders for the crisis.

Progressive advocates and policy makers alike blame the drug war, mass incarceration, and drug prohibition for the addiction and overdose crisis, even though the crisis resulted from liberalized attitudes and drug laws, first toward pharmaceutical opioids, and then toward all drugs. This view is, on the one hand, a defensive and ideological reaction. But it is also an abdication of responsibility.

And so while we should hold our elected officials responsible, we must also ask hard questions of the intellectual architects of their policies, and of the citizens, donors, and voters who empower them. What kind of a civilization leaves its most vulnerable people to use deadly substances and die on the streets? What kind of city regulates ice cream stores more strictly than drug dealers who kill 713 of its citizens in a single year? And what kind of people moralize about their superior treatment of the poor, people of color, and addicts while enabling and subsidizing the conditions of their death?

After 15 years as a TV reporter with Global and CBC and as news director of RDTV in Red Deer, Duane set out on his own 2008 as a visual storyteller. During this period, he became fascinated with a burgeoning online world and how it could better serve local communities. This fascination led to Todayville, launched in 2016.

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Fraser Institute

Premier Eby seeks to suspend democracy in B.C.

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From the Fraser Institute

By Niels Veldhuis and Tegan Hill

Last week, B.C. Premier David Eby proposed new legislation to give himself and his cabinet sweeping powers to unilaterally change almost any provincial law and regulation without legislative approval or review. While the legislation—dubbed the Economic Stabilization (Tariff Response) Act—has yet to be enacted into law, the fact that the government proposed such unprecedented powers is deeply concerning and a genuine threat to our democracy.

Only five months ago, British Columbians went to the polls and delivered a sobering victory to Eby’s incumbent NDP government, which lost 8 of its 55 seats and ended up with 47 of 93 seats, the narrowest “majority” possible. The popular vote was nearly dead-even between the NDP (44.86 per cent) and the upstart Conservative Party (43.28 per cent).

Even Premier Eby acknowledged the voters sent his government a message and promised to work together with other parties. “After a close and hard-fought campaign, it’s now time to come together to deliver for people,” he said. “British Columbians have asked us to work together and make life better for them.”

“Work together” in a democracy means embracing a deliberative and, at times, messy process. Thoughtful policymaking takes time. It’s a core feature of democracy. No leader has all the knowledge to act unilaterally to do what’s right. We need the legislature to weigh competing viewpoints through rigorous and transparent debate—that’s how our system works.

Yet according to the Eby government, the Economic Stabilization (Tariff Response) Act will lead to the opposite and provide “temporary authority to cabinet… to modify the application or effect of B.C. laws and regulations.” In other words, if approved, it will allow Premier Eby and his cabinet to override provincial laws, regulations, bylaws, rules, resolutions, practices, policies, standards, procedures and other measures without approval or review by the elected legislature. That’s not how our system is supposed to work.

To put it more starkly, the Eby government is telling British Columbians that 23 cabinet ministers and four ministers of state can sufficiently decide almost any matter pertaining to the government without democratic approval or input from opposition parties. It is by all measures an extraordinary circumvention of the province’s democratic institutions.

Premier Eby, of course, knows the extraordinary nature of this type of undemocratic authority. “In extraordinary times,” he told reporters last week, “we need extraordinary powers.” And he wants these extraordinary powers for the next two years.

While President Trump’s tariffs are terrible economic policy and very damaging to Canada and other countries, many governments throughout history have tried these policies. Like in the past, our politicians and policymakers must deal with tariffs and other economic challenges purposefully and deliberately within democratic constraints, which include transparent debates, reviews, re-assessments, and genuine deliberations that include opposition parties.

Instead, Premier Eby wants absolute power and control.

As British Columbians will no doubt conclude, there’s something fundamentally wrong with suspending democracy because we’re in challenging times. We often deal with significant challenges. Should our governments have suspended democracy in the wake of 9/11, the limited outbreak of SARS, the financial crisis of 2008-09 or COVID?

Finally, this dim view of democratic constraints is not new to the Eby government. Just last year, Premier Eby tried to pass one of the most significant and fundamental legislative changes in B.C. history, giving more than 200 First Nations veto power over land-use decisions in the province. Eby hoped to rush his legalisation through the legislature without full transparency or meaningful public input, and without disclosing any analysis of its economic impact. When British Columbians caught wind of his plan, there was an uproar, and before October’s election, Eby shelved the legislation (for now, at least).

Here we are again, mere months later, with Premier Eby wanting to make unprecedented changes to our democracy in response to an economic policy from another democratically elected government that, while damaging, is hardly an existential threat.

To call the Economic Stabilization (Tariff Response) Act a significant overreach would be a gross understatement. It’s an affront to our democracy.

Niels Veldhuis

President, Fraser Institute

Tegan Hill

Director, Alberta Policy, Fraser Institute
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2025 Federal Election

Soaked, Angry, and Awake: What We Saw at Pierre Poilievre’s Surrey Rally

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The Opposition with Dan Knight Dan Knight

Thousands stood in the rain—not for politics, but for hope. And this time, they just might bring it home.

We were there. We saw it with our own eyes. We were out in the rain too.

This was our first rally. No press passes. No backstage passes. Just boots on the ground in Surrey, British Columbia, shoulder to shoulder with five thousand other Canadians standing in line, drenched, cold—and awake. We weren’t there to fanboy. We came to observe. To listen.

And what we saw was more than a political event. It was a moment.

We saw Alex Zoltan from True North (@AmazingZoltan), Mike Le Couteur from CTV (@mikelecouteur), and legendary broadcaster Anita Krishna (@AnitaKrishna1) in the crowd. But more importantly—we saw the people. Working people. Retired people. Young people. People who’ve been ignored for years by the political class, who finally feel like someone is saying out loud what they’ve been screaming into the void.

What we heard from them? It wasn’t rehearsed. It wasn’t ideological. It was heartbreak.

A lot of people are angry. Not the rage you see on Twitter. Real anger. The kind that comes from watching your country stop working—for you. One man told us he’s on a pension and can’t afford groceries. Another woman said she skips meals so her kids can eat. We met a young couple in their late twenties who’ve given up on the idea of owning a home. They’re not lazy. They’re not reckless. They’re just priced out of the country they were born in.

And here’s what cut the deepest—many of them told us, “We want to support this party. But we can’t.” Why? Because they’ve been burned too many times. Promised too much. Betrayed too often. But they came anyway. They stood in the rain for hours anyway. Because there’s a flicker of something they haven’t felt in a long time:

Hope.

I kept asking: “Do you like this guy?” The answer was a resounding yes. And not because they’re buying the hype—but because he’s giving voice to something real. Pierre Poilievre is reaching disillusioned Canadians—not through political poetry or staged empathy—but through hard truths, said plainly, with no filter.

These aren’t people looking for a savior. They’re looking for someone who remembers them. And on that night in Surrey, they believed they found one. They came for a message. For a fight. For a reason to believe that someone—finally—was on their side.

Before Pierre ever took the mic, the crowd in Surrey was already fired up—and a big reason for that was Anaida Poilievre.

Let’s be honest: she’s a bombshell. And not just because she’s beautiful but because she’s the real deal. Industrious, sharp, fluent in two languages, and built from the same immigrant grit that defines so many Canadians who feel left behind by this system.

She opened the rally not like a politician’s wife reading off a cue card, but like a woman who actually believes in what her husband’s fighting for. She talked about Pierre’s adoption, his humble roots, and the hard lessons that shaped him. No privilege. No elite pedigree. Just two schoolteachers raising a kid to believe that if you want something in life, you earn it.

She looked out at a rain-soaked crowd and didn’t flinch. She thanked them. She told them their presence was a sign of hope. She didn’t pander. She didn’t posture. She spoke like someone who’s been watching this country change—and not for the better—and is finally standing beside someone willing to do something about it.

And you know what? People listened.

And when Pierre Poilievre walked onto that stage hugged his wife and said, “Who’s ready to axe some taxes?”—the crowd roared. Not clapped. Not nodded politely. Roared.

Because after a decade of being kicked in the teeth by a government that lectures more than it listens, Canadians are tired. Tired of being broke. Tired of being lied to. Tired of being told their pain is imaginary while the Laurentian elite pockets billions and jets off to climate conferences.

Poilievre knows that. And in this rally, he laid it out in plain language. “The Canadian promise is broken,” he said. And he’s right. Food inflation is higher than it is in the United States. Vancouver is the most expensive housing market in North America. People can’t afford groceries, never mind rent. And Mark Carney—Trudeau’s successor and another unelected globalist—wants you to believe this is fine.

It’s not fine. It’s engineered decline. And the crowd in Surrey knew it.

Poilievre tore into the carbon tax scam. “They told us without the carbon tax, the planet would catch fire,” he said. “I thought you put out fires with water—not taxes.” The room went wild. Because finally, someone said out loud what every working-class Canadian already knows: this isn’t about climate. It’s about control.

And here’s the kicker—while Canadians are being taxed into oblivion, what’s Carney doing? Poilievre didn’t mince words: “He’s moved his headquarters out of Canada, shifted billions to offshore tax havens, and wants to tax our industries into extinction.” And it’s true. Brookfield took $276 million from the Bank of China. That’s the man now lecturing you about sovereignty and security.

And just when you think it couldn’t get more absurd, Poilievre nailed the punchline: “Imagine the one thing Trump and Carney agree on—taxing Canadian industry.” One with tariffs. One with carbon taxes. The same result: you lose. They win.

And then Pierre Poilievre started talking about the one thing the political class won’t touch—housing. Real housing. Not photo ops with construction helmets. Not climate-smart TikTok renderings. Actual places where real people live. You know, the thing you used to be able to afford before Justin Trudeau and his handpicked successor, Mark Carney, burned the Canadian economy to the ground.

And when Poilievre said it costs $250,000 a year to buy a home in this country? The crowd didn’t gasp. They nodded. Because they already know. They’re living it. They’re paying $2,600 a month in rent in Vancouver—more than most mortgages in the U.S. They’re watching housing slip into fantasy while their wages stagnate and taxes climb.

Poilievre didn’t just diagnose the problem. He named the villains: gatekeepers. Bureaucrats. Urban planners with six-figure pensions who spend five years approving a duplex. Politicians more concerned about aesthetics than affordability. And of course, the federal Liberals who reward this dysfunction with your tax dollars.

He looked them in the eye and said: We will cut them off. No homes, no money.

You want to build homes? Great—we’ll help. You want to stall, delay, regulate and strangle supply while pretending to care? Goodbye federal funding. And when he said he’d pay cities a bonus—$10,000 per unit—for every home completed, the crowd erupted.

Because for the first time in a long time, someone isn’t just “raising awareness.” He’s ready to bulldoze the roadblocks.

Then he got to the scam of the century: the carbon tax. He said, “They told us the planet would catch fire without it. I thought you put out fires with water—not taxes.” That’s not a joke. That’s clarity. And clarity is dangerous to the people who make billions off confusion.

Now Carney—Canada’s favorite unelected international banker—is floating his latest con: “Don’t worry, we’ll scrap the carbon tax and give you a rebate instead.” Right. The government takes your dollar, runs it through three ministries, skims 30 cents, then hands you back 70 and tells you it’s a gift. That’s their model.

Poilievre? He cuts through the lie: “Just let people keep their damn money.”

And here’s what made this rally different. This wasn’t a campaign stop in a suit-and-tie showroom. This was a declaration of war against the elite cartel that’s run this country into the ground for the last decade.

He talked about immigration, not from a place of fear, but of reality. Canadians aren’t against immigration. They’re against chaos. They’re against bringing in more people when we can’t even house the people already here. It’s not anti-immigrant. It’s pro-sanity.

And most of all, he spoke about something you rarely hear from a politician in this country: pride. Not in institutions, not in photo-ops—but in the tradesman, the small business owner, the truck driver, the welder. The people who actually build Canada. He said we’re going to make things again. That we’re going to stop outsourcing our sovereignty and start bringing it all home.

And the crowd? They didn’t just applaud—they believed him.

This was not a speech for journalists or corporate donors. It was a speech for people who still love this country, who want their kids to own homes, who want to work and not be punished for it.

It was for the family that’s cut out takeout to pay the heating bill. For the welder who can’t get approved for a mortgage in his own city. For the young couple living in their parents’ basement, not because they’re lazy—but because everything is rigged against them. And for the first time in a long time, they heard someone say out loud what they’ve been thinking in silence: This isn’t your fault. It’s theirs.

We don’t need more government programs.

We don’t need more subsidies or slogans.

We need leaders with a spine—who will stop apologizing for this country and start rebuilding it.

Pierre Poilievre stood in front of thousands in Surrey and said: “We’re going to bring it home.”

And maybe, just maybe, this time… we will.

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