Canadian politics Archives | Massimo Bergamini

Gordie Howe, Meet John Maynard Keynes

July 12, 2026 Massimo Bergamini Comments 0 comment

The Gordie Howe International Bridge risks becoming an enduring symbol of Canada-U.S. relations, but for all the wrong reasons.

The news last week that Canada and the US had reached a deal that would open the bridge to cross border traffic dripped in irony. A bridge named after the hockey legend whose elbows inspired Canada’s rallying cry against Donald Trump opening only after Ottawa accommodated Washington’s bully tactics.

The Gordie Howe Bridge set to officially open on July 27, 2026

But the agreement is also a window into how Mark Carney governs.

Trump blocked a completed bridge that Canada financed even if Ottawa had every factual, legal and moral argument on its side. And it was Washington that went into the corners with its elbows up and Canada that turtled.

The bridge is now scheduled to open on July 27. According to media reports, the settlement gives Washington new influence over significant toll decisions while directing half of the bridge’s future net profits to a 15-year regional economic development fund.

Under the original arrangement, Canada expected to recover its investment through toll revenues before Michigan shared in the profits. The new agreement pushes that recovery much farther into the future, although Ottawa has yet to disclose by how much.

That matters because time is the hidden currency of politics.

Economist John Maynard Keynes famously observed that “in the long run, we are all dead.” The Gordie Howe agreement suggests Ottawa has adopted much the same philosophy: Solve today’s problem; leave tomorrow’s consequences to someone else.

Carney has shown that he thinks like an economist and governs like a central banker.

That does not make him apolitical. Quite the opposite. He is deeply political — his approval ratings are evidence of this. But he approaches politics as a continuing exercise in trade-offs, optimization and risk management where the future is discounted and the immediate objective is the priority.

Central bankers operate much the same way. They calm markets, restore confidence, contain shocks and prevent today’s instability from becoming tomorrow’s panic.

But a country is not a balance sheet. Sovereignty, credibility and strategic leverage cannot always be assigned a present value and traded for short-term stability.

Observing Mark Carney increasingly suggests that he treats red lines not as principles to defend, but as obstacles to clear.

Consider the Digital Services Tax. Trump halted trade negotiations. Ottawa quickly rescinded a policy years in the making to restart them. The government openly described the reversal as the price of advancing broader negotiations with Washington.

Last week, Carney became the first Canadian prime minister in 26 years to visit Saudi Arabia, reversing a long period of political distance from a regime whose human rights record remains appalling. His explanation had the polished efficiency of a central bank communiqué: “Engagement is not endorsement.” Lecturing governments from afar, he added, is ineffective.

Each decision can be defended on its own merits. Taken together, Carney’s governing doctrine appears to be this: Address today’s problem; leave the consequences to tomorrow.

Carney often says Canada must deal with the world as it is, not as we wish it to be.

That may sound like steely-eyed realism, but realism without anchoring principles is not statecraft. It becomes serial accommodation.

Every concession changes the world as it is. Reward coercion today and coercion becomes more likely tomorrow. Treat every red line as provisional and adversaries learn that Canadian resistance has a price, and enough pressure will reveal it.

That may be the lasting significance of the Gordie Howe bridge agreement.

“Elbows Up” promised that Canada would absorb short-term pain to protect its long-term independence. Carney appears ready to reverse that bargain.

He secures immediate relief by transferring the cost, the precedent and the lost leverage into the future.

The bridge will open. Traffic will move.

The government will declare the crisis resolved and celebrate Canada-U.S. trade.

But a bridge can carry more than vehicles. This one carries a warning.

Mark Carney governs as though the future can always absorb one more political compromise.

Keynes may have been right, after all, in the long run, we will indeed all be dead. But that will be cold comfort for future generations.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being Carney

June 19, 2026 Massimo Bergamini Comments 0 comment

In The Unbearable Lightness of Being, essayist Milan Kundera described a condition in which choices become detached from the weight of their consequences. The longer we observe Mark Carney’s political journey, the more that image comes to mind.

The picture supports the title and central argument of the article, namely that the more we observe Mark carney's political journey, the more we note that many of his key choices and statements are disconnected from their consequences.

This week, the Prime Minister said he was “very pleased” with the framework agreement reached between the United States and Iran. He described it as a “game changer.” Asked on CNN whether the war had been worth it, he answered in the affirmative.

The issue is not that Carney welcomes a de-escalation. The issue is that before concluding a war was worth fighting, one should first ask whether it was necessary.

Carney was not a neutral observer of this conflict. Within hours of the outbreak of hostilities on February 27, he was among the first Western leaders to publicly endorse the American and Israeli military action. That endorsement was not incidental. It forms part of his political record that now deserves scrutiny.

The agreement celebrated at the G7 is neither a peace treaty nor a definitive resolution of the Iranian nuclear issue. By all accounts, it is a framework that suspends hostilities, reopens the Strait of Hormuz and sends the hardest questions — inspections, enrichment, sanctions and regional security — into another round of negotiations.

In other words, after months of war, thousands of deaths and a global economic shock, the parties have returned to the negotiating table.

The problem is that the table already existed.

When the first American and Israeli strikes were launched in late February, negotiations were underway through Omani mediation. They were fragile, certainly. Success was far from guaranteed. But talks were taking place, progress had reportedly been made and further meetings were scheduled.

The question is not whether diplomacy would have succeeded. The question is why diplomacy was abandoned before it had failed.

The Prime Minister consistently returns to the same argument: the world is changing rapidly, circumstances evolve and leaders must adapt.

In Davos earlier this year, he championed what he called a policy of “variable geometry.” In Dublin last week, he spoke of a new international order built around coalitions of middle powers united by common values.

The vision is coherent. But it raises an increasingly difficult question.

What exactly are the values Carney believes should guide political action?

Values matter only if they impose constraints. They matter only if they continue to shape decisions when circumstances become difficult. Otherwise, they are little more than window dressing.

In the case of Iran, those constraints are remarkably difficult to identify.

If diplomacy is a guiding principle, why endorse military action while negotiations are still underway? If international law and multilateralism are meant to constrain the use of force, how does one celebrate a war that effectively bypassed the United Nations process?

Perhaps there are good answers to those questions. But we have yet to hear them.

What stands out about Carney is not contradiction so much as fluidity. The reference points shift constantly. The criteria for evaluation shift with them. The narrative evolves.

This is not necessarily bad faith. It is something more subtle: a certain lightness of being.

Under Carney, events seem to detach themselves remarkably quickly from their consequences. One position gives way to another. One crisis replaces the last. Attention moves on.

Yet speeches at Davos, Dublin or the G7 are not merely communications exercises. They claim to explain the world, guide public policy and shape collective choices.

Their value depends on their ability to withstand the test of events.

When they are never measured against the consequences that follow, they risk becoming nothing more than convenient interpretations of unfolding events.

For Canadians, that may be the lesson to draw from the Iran episode.

If a leader can endorse a war and then celebrate the agreement that follows it without ever being required to account seriously for the war’s necessity, its consequences or its relationship to the principles he invokes, what value should we attach to that endorsement?

And more importantly, what value should we place on his words?