Tes was u

**Je déteste Mark Carney**

I never thought I would despise a Canadian prime minister this much.

I used to roll my eyes at the usual Ottawa nonsense. Now I can’t stand the sound of his voice. I mute the news when his face appears. I refuse to watch any clip where that polished central-banker cadence starts lecturing the country like we’re all slightly dim undergrads who need the former Governor of the Bank of England to explain how the real world works. I even skip the Chess.com games when the opponent has a Liberal-sounding handle, just in case.

Yes, I know. It’s not every Liberal. It’s Mark Carney. But Carney is the perfect distillation of the modern Liberal Party: the Davos-approved, Brookfield-connected, elite-credentialed technocrat who somehow convinced enough people that competence is the same thing as virtue. And the people who keep him there are the same crowd that spent a decade treating dissent as a character flaw.

I hate the way he talks. That careful, measured, slightly condescending tone that never quite says “you peasants wouldn’t understand,” but always implies it. The endless lectures about “rules-based order” and “net-zero pathways” delivered with the serene confidence of a man who has never had to meet a payroll in a small town or wait six months for a family doctor. The same man who, when pressed on difficult questions, sometimes flashes the irritability of someone who believes the press should be grateful for the privilege of his time.

I hate the pomposity. The air of moral and intellectual superiority that clings to him like expensive cologne. The way he moves through the world as if Canada is a slightly underperforming portfolio that needs better risk management and a firmer ESG overlay. The same man who spent years advising Justin Trudeau’s government on the very policies that hollowed out affordability, then positioned himself as the adult in the room who would fix the mess he helped create.

Look at the record he brought with him. As Bank of England governor he was celebrated in the right circles and quietly criticized by people who actually had to live with the consequences of ultra-loose money and climate-obsessed central banking. He spent years pushing the idea that financial institutions should be enlisted in a global climate crusade. Then, when the political winds shifted, the same man who once treated carbon pricing as near-sacred dogma suddenly discovered the virtues of pragmatism. Convenient. The carbon tax was politically toxic, so it was dialed back. The underlying instinct—that the state and its favoured experts know better than markets and ordinary people—never left.

I hate the conflicts that somehow never seem to stick. The Brookfield years. The decision to move the company’s headquarters to New York shortly after Donald Trump started talking tariffs. The investments that somehow always seemed to align with the globalist consensus rather than Canada’s national interest. Pipelines opposed at home while other energy assets were pursued abroad. Lectures about Canadian competitiveness delivered by a man whose personal and corporate interests were never fully disentangled from the policies he later claimed to reform. When confronted, the response is always some version of “it’s complicated” or “you’re misunderstanding the structure.” The rest of us are expected to take it on faith that the smartest man in the room would never let personal incentives colour public decisions.

I hate the pandering. The careful calibration of every message to soothe the particular neuroses of the urban professional class that forms the Liberal base. The soft language around crime that somehow never quite prioritizes the people actually living with the consequences. The performative internationalism that treats Canadian sovereignty as a secondary concern to maintaining good standing at the right conferences. The willingness to lecture provinces—especially those in the West that actually produce the energy and resources that keep the lights on—while treating their legitimate grievances as unfortunate regional attitudes that need managing.

And then there is the sheer, grinding elitism. The assumption that anyone who questions the consensus is either uninformed or morally deficient. The same mindset that produced years of lecturing about “misinformation” while the cost of living, housing, and basic services deteriorated under policies the experts insisted were necessary. Carney did not invent this culture, but he is its most refined product: the man who can deliver a speech about national resilience while radiating the quiet certainty that ordinary Canadians should be grateful the grown-ups are still in charge.

Yes, I know. There are competent people in the Liberal Party. There are Canadians who voted for him in good faith because they were exhausted by the previous decade and wanted a technocrat who sounded serious. Some of them are now discovering that seriousness without accountability is just another form of arrogance. The midterms and the next election will eventually test whether enough people have noticed.

In the meantime, I detest Mark Carney. I detest the polished emptiness of the persona, the selective memory about his own record, the instinctive alignment with the global professional class over the interests of the country he now leads, and the quiet contempt for anyone who refuses to genuflect. The damage is real. The repair will take years.

And no, I will not pretend that hating the man is the same as hating the country. The country is better than this particular prime minister.