We’ve all seen it—at a family dinner, a social gathering, or even a work meeting. There’s always that one person who turns everything into something negative. No matter what the topic is, they’re quick to shoot it down. Even good ideas or hopeful plans get crushed with harsh words, sarcasm, and just enough twisted facts to sound convincing. They don’t speak to help—they speak to dominate. And somehow, a few people start nodding along, either because it sounds confident or because they don’t want to argue. It’s draining.
This kind of behaviour shows up everywhere: in social circles, families, workplaces—and yes, even in positions of leadership. Often, it stems from deeper emotional or psychological struggles: an inferiority complex, deep insecurity, a need for control, exaggerated self-importance (not always full-blown narcissism), or perhaps past experiences of failure, betrayal, or trauma.
Now imagine someone with that same personality being handed a national stage, a taxpayer-funded seat in Parliament, and the duty to hold government accountable. Instead of raising the quality of debate, they lower it. Instead of offering vision, they tear down. The result? A loud, negative, one-man performance.
That’s Pierre Poilievre.
Poilievre paints every issue as a disaster. He points fingers, places blame, but rarely proposes clear, workable solutions. It’s a scorched-earth strategy—one that keeps his base angry and engaged but drags political discourse into the mud and erodes trust in our institutions.
He’s polished, articulate, and clever with words. He knows how to twist facts and turn complex problems into catchy, misleading slogans. That delivery makes him sound credible, even when the substance isn’t there. It’s not about truth—it’s about winning the clip.
What we often get is not thoughtful debate, but a steady stream of anger, fear, and mockery. It works, especially with people who are fed up or feel unheard. But let’s be honest—that’s not leadership. That’s just theatre.
Relentless attacks on every policy, every agency, and every public figure don’t build accountability—they build distrust. It’s a dangerous game. Opposition should challenge power, not destroy faith in the system itself.
Canada needs a strong opposition—not a political circus.
This isn’t opposition. It’s obstruction.
There is an important distinction to make. While no democracy is perfect, both the UK and Australia have had examples of opposition leaders who challenge governments with integrity, propose clear alternatives, and raise the standard of debate rather than tearing it down.
Keir Starmer (Labour Leader)
During COVID, Starmer didn’t just attack the government for its slow response—he supported reasonable measures where needed and called for better ones where they fell short. It was critical, but it was cooperative when it mattered.
Jeremy Corbyn
Though divisive, Corbyn often offered detailed critiques of foreign policy, especially on military interventions. He didn’t just say “no”; he suggested diplomatic alternatives. You could disagree with his position—but at least there was one.
Anthony Albanese (Before becoming PM)
As opposition leader, Albanese’s Labour Party laid out an entire climate policy. He didn’t just criticize the Morrison government’s inaction—he offered a detailed plan, with steps and funding strategies.
Malcolm Turnbull (Pre-2015)
Before becoming PM, Turnbull was known—even by critics—for being thoughtful and focused on policy. His opposition work around broadband, technology, and clean energy came with real proposals, not just hot air.
At the end of the day, opposition isn’t about yelling “No” louder—it’s about offering a better “Yes.”
After the first two debates, it’s becoming pretty clear how the next Canadian election might shape up. But let’s be clear—the job isn’t done. Canada doesn’t just need a new government; it needs a functional, responsible, and credible opposition.
There’s a growing outcry among conservatives themselves—good, decent people who still believe in conservative values, in small business, in public accountability, in smart governance. Many of them wouldn’t want Pierre Poilievre even parking his car in Parliament’s garage, let alone pretending to speak for their principles.
It’s time to fire this gentleman.
Let’s rebuild a real opposition while we’re working on everything else that matters this year.