Reviewed by Eugene Lacey
Doubtless, many Canadian readers will wince with their elbows up at the title of Tristin Hopper’s Don’t Be Canada: How One Country Did Everything Wrong All At Once. Others may smirk, relishing in the literary vindication of their recriminations of the current government. This book, the first from the Victoria-based columnist, seeks to confront its audience with all the uncomfortable topics of issue that Canada has proven exceptional at displaying without acknowledging. The timing of this title is indeed incendiary, coming at a period which has seen the resurgence of annexationist rhetoric from the President of the United States; however, it is also incredibly pertinent. This book in many ways derides the Canadian impulse to use American disfavour to justify turning a blind eye to our own country’s shortcomings. A Canadian political desire to appeal to American progressivism has fueled performative policies that have caused real issues. Whether or not one agrees with the points of contention – political interests will inevitably influence the reader’s view of Hopper, a writer for the conservative National Post – there is considerable value in the way this book illuminates the rising dissatisfaction among Canadians. This book will prove a useful read as a sardonic and provocative examination into how Canada stopped being boring to the world.
A common, almost compulsive response of many Canadians to expressions of political discontent is to point out that things are really quite bad everywhere. For example, the high cost of living, which is totemic of the myriad of problems that young Canadians are facing, is on the rise in liberal democracies around the world. Don’t Be Canada contests such a generous comparison between Canada and the rest of the democratic world. Its very basis is that Canada is unique in doing a number of things wrong, voluntarily engaging in self-destructive activities in an attempt to appeal to a progressive American mindset. In this vein, Hopper runs the gamut of controversial topics, including Medical Assistance in Dying (MAID), criminal justice reform, harm reduction, and censorship legislation. This book is not an outright denunciation of the sympathies behind these causes but rather attempts to show the extremities to which Canada has strayed in a semi-conscious fervour. As an emblematic illustration Hopper cites the United Kingdom, who, in exploring policy options for their own version of MAID, highlighted Canada as a “disturbing” (viii) example to avoid. With a focus on how Canada appears from the outside looking in, Hopper gives himself the ability to ignore the Canadian social convention strongly avoiding divisive political topics. Canadians are generally taught to think of themselves as a country little thought about – a country that leads by example on the world stage. Though domestic politics might rage like a storm, Canadians have historically been able to rely on a benign, boring, yet attractive image abroad. Indeed, Canada’s comfortable historic reputation is that of a tempest in a teapot. As Hopper has it, the teapot is cracked, and the tempest is leaking out.

The reader may ask themselves whether the comically inept image of Canada developing abroad is a politically motivated exaggeration. Surely, one might think, the disruptive and divisive actions of the US President, Donald Trump, and the incapacitated image of the Biden presidency, have made Canada to appear as a competent and cooperative alternative? President Trump has indeed both united many Canadians against him and made Canadian politicians look incredibly cordial by comparison. However, he has simultaneously served as a major distraction in the way of Canada’s own self-criticism. This book’s second chapter, “Outdoing the Americans at Identity Politics,” alludes to this very problem. As Hopper characterises it, Canada’s singular focus on providing a progressive alternative to Trump’s America resulted in escalatory statements with little to no plan of accountability. This culminated in the Canadian government’s admittance of its own guilt in committing an ongoing genocide without the imposition of any consequences or to prospect of any prosecutions. This focus on pinning Canada’s political reputation to American progressivism can give people a false sense of confidence. American populists on the left, notably Independent Senator and former presidential candidate Bernie Sanders, continue to laud Canada’s healthcare system while Canadians are made to wait for nearly 24 hours for hospital beds. With the recent rise of annexationist threats coming from President Trump and Albertan separatists alike, it is important to untether the conversation on Canada’s failings from American political contexts. Perhaps the focus of de-Americanising our discourse is slightly impinged by Hopper’s use of American spellings for words like “defense” and “license,” but that hardly distracts from the overall point being made.
One need not subscribe to any particular political position in order to read Don’t Be Canada. One need not agree with Mr. Hopper’s contentions about the state of this country in order to recognise the value of discussing the issues and consequences he raises. The humour with which this book is infused may indeed strike some readers as a provocation. However, it is important to realise that Hopper does not pull this ridiculing assessment of Canadian policy out of thin air. Such is the value of the relatively lengthy notes section at the back of this relatively short book. This book addresses a Canadian audience that is so unacquainted to derision on the world stage that it requires hard evidence to be convinced otherwise. Indeed, Canada has long enjoyed an international reputation of being pleasantly charmless – The New Republic once christened “Worthwhile Canadian Initiative” to be “the most boring headline ever written.” However, this is a comfort that Canadians can no longer rely on. Don’t Be Canada is not for those who want answers to Canada’s problems, nor is it for those wanting a balanced assessment of the Trudeau government’s policy agenda. However, for those who want to know the reasons why so many people in Canada seem to be so angry all the time, this book provides a summary that is both digestible and evidently researched. While covering a lot of territory in under one hundred pages, sacrificing depth of analysis for breadth of content, Hopper’s survey of Canada’s recent political absurdities largely succeeds in its goal of guiding its reader through the underacknowledged controversies of our time.

As a young man, Eugene Lacey worked as a bus driver in southern British Columbia where he earned his nickname, Bomber, for his speedy transit between coast and Interior. In 1983, he was awarded the Ewart Bowering medal for the fastest trip between Princeton and Vancouver on the Crowsnest Highway. Later he enrolled in political science courses at Okanagan College before earning a Master's degree from Notre Dame University in Nelson. Now retired, he lives quietly on the Chilcotin Plateau and spends too much time surfing the web. This is his first contribution to The British Columbia Review. Welcome to the Review, Bomber Lacey!




