I created this site in 2020 as a place to share ideas and perspectives shaped by a long career in public policy, strategic planning, communications, association management, government, and politics.
When I launched it, I did not fully appreciate how constraining to self-expression it could be to work within Ottawa’s mainstream policy and institutional ecosystem.
Writing carefully, moderating tone and always colouring within the lines may be necessary, even appropriate, but over time it is also limiting. That is why this site did not become the safe place for unvarnished expression I had hoped it would be.
As I write this, I’m in a different place, I’ve left full-time association management and have moved to a different stage of my professional life: One where I can choose, who I work with, what projects I lend my time to and the causes I advocate for.
And with that, I’m reclaiming my own voice — the ability to write and think freely, without the need for perpetual moderation and compromise. This site now reflects that intention more clearly.
I still expect to post the occasional quick take on breaking news, but the emphasis will remain on more considered opinion and longer-form analysis, written honestly and in my own voice.
While the news cycle will shape some of what appears here, my focus will increasingly be on a smaller number of issues of particular concern to me: governance and leadership, mental health and wellbeing in institutional settings, public policy and democratic practice, and the human consequences of how we design and manage our institutions.
And from time to time, I may still share thoughts on a book or two that have little — or nothing at all — to do with public policy.
This site is, at its core, a place to think out loud — freely, honestly, and for me, in a reclaimed voice.
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I look forward to the conversation!
Burnout in the nonprofit sector is a governance problem
Canada’s nonprofit sector is facing a quiet mental health crisis. A 2024 YMCA surveys show that 71 per cent of nonprofit leaders report experiencing burnout, along with 58 per cent of non-executive employees.
The human and economic costs of workplace mental health failures are well established: burnout, anxiety and chronic stress drive turnover, disability claims and lost productivity across the economy.
What deserves closer scrutiny — particularly in a city like Ottawa — is why these pressures are so acute in civil society organizations.
Ottawa is home to hundreds of national charities and associations.
These organizations form a critical part of Canada’s civic infrastructure. In the National Capital Region alone they employ thousands of people responsible for delivering programs, managing partnerships and sustaining national missions.
Yet inside many of these institutions the operational reality is stark.
Most run with small staff teams overseen by volunteer boards whose members are spread across the country. In principle, boards do not manage the day-to-day work of these organizations. But they are expected to set the tone, direction and expectations under which that work takes place.
Their role is to set strategy, align mission with resources, provide oversight of management and manage risk. In short, they define the governance environment in which staff operate.
When governance provides strategic clarity and facilitates operational alignment, organizations can thrive even with limited resources.
When it does not, the consequences are predictable.
And that is where the problem lies: in smaller organizations, volunteer boards often lack the knowledge and understanding of best practices needed to fulfill their duties.
In organizations this small, workplace mental health is not a peripheral issue. It is an operational and legal risk — exactly the kind of issue that should be at the top of every board’s docket.
Burnout rarely appears overnight. It grows in organizations where direction is unclear, goals are unrealistic and success is defined by constantly shifting markers.
Yet Canada’s statutory framework governing nonprofits offers little practical guidance about the responsibilities of boards when workplace mental health begins to deteriorate.
Thousands of nonprofit organizations operate under the federal Canada Not-for-profit Corporations Act, which came into force in 2011. The Act requires directors to act honestly, in good faith and with reasonable care.
Those duties matter. But they are written in broad terms and say little about the board’s responsibility when governance itself becomes a source of workplace harm.
In many sectors of the economy, employment law evolves through litigation. Disputes reach the courts, judges interpret statutory duties and over time a body of case law emerges that helps employers and employees understand their obligations.
The nonprofit sector works differently. Most organizations are small, mission-driven and financially fragile. Public litigation can threaten donor confidence and reputational trust, while the costs of prolonged legal battles can quickly overwhelm limited budgets.
As a result, many disputes are settled quietly before they ever reach a courtroom.
The result is a legal catch-22: workplace harm exists, but expedience is often favoured over adjudication. The broad workplace safety duties written into the Canada Not-for-profit Corporations Act are therefore seldom interpreted in ways that allow the law to evolve and provide practical guidance to boards.
Prevention would not only protect employees, it would also strengthen the sector itself.
Clear governance reduces costly staff turnover and stabilizes leadership. It preserves institutional knowledge and improves program continuity. It forces organizations to align their ambitions with the resources they actually have.
In a sector responsible for delivering public goods, that kind of clarity improves services for the communities these institutions exist to serve.
Now, more than a decade after Parliament adopted the new rules, it is reasonable to ask how well they have served the sector — and the people who work within it.
The Canada Not-for-profit Corporations Act should be amended to make explicit that boards are responsible for overseeing workplace health and safety, including psychological health and psychosocial risks.
Mandatory governance training for directors of federally incorporated nonprofit organizations should also become standard.
None of this is about blaming volunteer board members. Most serve with dedication and good intentions. But in small organizations, governance failures and shocks are not absorbed by systems. They are absorbed by people.
Charities and nonprofit organizations play a vital role in Canada’s civic life. Ensuring that the boards that lead them understand and can fulfill their responsibilities for workplace health is not regulatory overreach.
It is basic stewardship of institutions the public relies on — and a recognition that the people who sustain them are not disposable.
Two days later, in New Delhi, standing in for the prime minister — who had made himself unavailable to the media — Foreign Affairs Minister Anita Anand struck a noticeably different tone. She spoke of diplomacy, avoided the question of the legality of the strikes, and emphasized that Canada would not participate in military operations.
How quickly the shine has come off the Davos doctrine.
Only weeks ago, Mr. Carney’s speech in Davos was widely praised as a bold attempt to redefine Canada’s place in a fractured world — and a roadmap for middle powers to follow. It not only won him international applause but also supercharged his political fortunes at home.
In that address, Mr. Carney argued that the old rules-based international order was giving way to a harsher era of great-power rivalry. Middle powers, he said, would have to adapt.
His answer was what he called “values-based realism.”
Canada, he suggested, would accept the realities of geopolitics while remaining anchored in core principles: respect for sovereignty, consistent standards for allies and adversaries, and limits on the use of force except within international law.
It was an elegant formulation — realism without cynicism, pragmatism without abandoning principles.
But the value of policies and doctrines should not be measured by the elegance of their framing. They should be assessed by the clarity of the light they cast on the pathways they are meant to illuminate.
And the events of the past week suggest that the Davos framework sheds very little light on the decisions it is supposed to guide.
In the wake of the Iran strikes, Canada endorsed the use of force by an ally without explaining how that action aligned with the principles invoked only weeks earlier. As political pressure mounted, the government adjusted its position — first emphasizing diplomacy, then stressing legal constraints, then raising the possibility of military support.
In Davos, Mr. Carney described Canada’s approach as one of “variable geometry” –– coalitions formed according to circumstances, interests and evolving realities.
The events of the past week suggest that for Mr. Carney, this variable geometry extends well beyond alliances.
The evidence is there. Confronted with its first real test, the Carney framework bent as events unfolded and tensions changed.
Defenders of the Davos doctrine will argue that this is simply realism at work. They will say that middle powers must navigate a world defined by shifting alliances and unpredictable crises.
This is true. And there is no doubt that the stakes are high.
But realism is a moving target. It shifts with circumstances, alliances and political cycles. Untethered from bedrock principles, it becomes little more than a justification for improvisation — a polite way of saying that policy will be adjusted as events dictate.
And when a country’s foreign policy becomes a series of never-ending recalibrations in response to shifting perceptions of the real world, the framework meant to guide decisions collapses.
