June 1st, 2025 | Steve Parker

Mark Carney Knows Canadians Are Stupid

His actions and lies reveal how he really feels about Canadian voters, namely his own supporters

Oh, Canada. Land of maple syrup, hockey, and a populace so trusting they’d probably hand their wallets to a raccoon in a Mountie hat if it promised “economic stability.” Enter Mark Carney, the slick-talking former banker turned Prime Minister, who waltzed into Ottawa’s top job in 2025 with a campaign that had more spin than a fidget spinner convention. Canadians, bless their polite little hearts, lapped it up like it was poutine gravy. But let’s not mince words: Carney’s campaign was a masterclass in political sleight-of-hand, and Canadian voters, ever the eager audience, fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Let’s dissect how Carney’s promises—on tariffs, the carbon tax, and Canada’s “energy superpower” ambitions—were less about truth and more about dazzling a nation that’s apparently allergic to skepticism.

If there is one thing you can say about Canadians, it’s that they’re nicer than a vicar offering you tea and biscuits on a rainy Sunday. But this niceness comes with a downside: a propensity to trust authority figures and mainstream media like they’re gospel. Studies, like the 2023 Edelman Trust Barometer, show Canada consistently ranks high in trust for institutions—government, media, you name it—compared to more cynical nations like, say, the UK, where we’d sooner trust a fox in a henhouse than a politician’s promise. In 2025, 57% of Canadians surveyed by Angus Reid expressed confidence in mainstream media outlets like CBC and CTV, despite growing global skepticism about media bias. This trust creates a fertile ground for silver-tongued chaps like Carney to plant their seeds of half-truths.

Canadians’ faith in their media isn’t just quaint; it’s a political goldmine. During the 2025 election, outlets like CBC and CTV were accused of fear-mongering to boost Carney’s Liberal campaign, with some X posts claiming they “used lies and slander” to secure his victory. Whether or not you buy the conspiracy, the mainstream media’s cozy relationship with the Liberal narrative didn’t exactly encourage Canadians to question Carney’s bold claims. Instead, they nodded along, dazzled by his credentials as a former Bank of Canada governor and UN climate envoy, as if those titles guaranteed honesty. Spoiler alert: they don’t.

Let’s start with Carney’s tariff gambit. In early 2025, U.S. President Donald Trump slapped a 25% tariff on Canadian goods, citing fentanyl and immigration concerns—a move that briefly sent Canada’s economy into a tizzy before being suspended after promises of border crackdowns. Carney, ever the opportunist, seized this moment to paint himself as Canada’s economic savior. Mid-campaign, he declared he’d “zeroed out” retaliatory tariffs against the U.S., positioning himself as a tough negotiator who’d stare down Trump and win. The reality? It was all smoke and mirrors. 

Carney’s tariff talk was less about policy and more about theatrics. In his May 6, 2025, meeting with Trump, he was all smiles, trading compliments while firmly stating Canada was “not for sale”. Yet, Trump didn’t budge on tariffs, and Carney’s promises of a reset trade relationship remained vague, with no specifics on how he’d protect Canada’s economy. Canadians, however, ate it up, with 62% of voters in a May 2025 Ipsos poll citing Carney’s “strong stance” on U.S. relations as a reason for supporting him. Never mind that the tariff suspension was temporary and tied to unrelated border policies—Carney’s rhetoric was enough to convince voters he’d tamed the Trump beast. It’s almost admirable, in a Machiavellian sort of way, how he turned a diplomatic non-event into a campaign triumph.

The Carbon Tax Con: Zero Doesn’t Mean Gone

Then there’s the carbon tax saga, a masterstroke of Carney’s verbal gymnastics. During the campaign, he announced he’d “axe” the consumer carbon tax, effective April 1, 2025, which shaved 17 cents per litre off gasoline prices—a move that had Canadians cheering like they’d just won the Stanley Cup. The media heralded it as a bold break from Justin Trudeau’s climate legacy, and voters, desperate for relief from rising costs, swooned. But here’s the rub: Carney didn’t abolish the carbon tax; he merely set the consumer portion to zero, leaving the industrial carbon tax and emissions cap intact. It’s the political equivalent of promising to cancel Christmas but keeping the Grinch on payroll.

This sleight-of-hand wasn’t just clever; it was diabolically effective. By focusing on the consumer tax cut, Carney sidestepped scrutiny over his broader climate policies, which still include regulations that rankle the oil and gas sector. Industry leaders, like those from 38 energy companies who penned an open letter to Carney in May 2025, begged him to ditch the emissions cap and industrial carbon tax to boost investment. Carney’s response? A non-committal nod to “reviewing” regulations, while keeping the status quo. Yet, Canadians didn’t seem to notice the bait-and-switch. A May 2025 Leger poll found 68% of voters believed Carney had “ended” the carbon tax entirely, proving that a well-timed soundbite can obscure a mountain of fine print. Honestly, it’s enough to make a Brit jealous of such political wizardry.

Energy Superpower or Pipe Dream?

Perhaps Carney’s boldest claim was his promise to make Canada an “energy superpower,” a phrase he cheekily nicked from former PM Stephen Harper—and, amusingly, one his opponent Pierre Poilievre also used. It’s a cracking soundbite, conjuring visions of Canada strutting onto the global stage, oil and gas flowing like Niagara Falls. But when you dig into Carney’s actual plans, it’s less superpower and more super-vague. He’s talked up a mix of conventional and clean energy—oil, gas, nuclear, hydro, and carbon capture—saying Canada should “build, baby, build”. Sounds grand, doesn’t it? Except he’s been cagier than a cat in a thunderstorm about committing to pipelines, the very backbone of Canada’s oil and gas industry.

Since being elected, Carney has offered talk of “energy infrastructure”, almost going out of his away to avoid the word pipeline.

In campaign interviews with CTV and CBC, Carney said he’d support pipelines “if there’s consensus,” but quickly added they’re “not enough” to achieve superpower status. This hedging drove the oilpatch barmy, with Enbridge CEO Greg Ebel practically chomping at the bit, saying, “We’re ready to rock,” if only Carney would commit. Meanwhile, Alberta’s premier and energy executives have been banging on about stalled pipeline projects for years, citing federal regulations like the Impact Assessment Act as barriers. Carney’s response? He’s open to tweaking Trudeau-era green laws, but won’t scrap them, leaving the industry in limbo. Yet, Canadians bought the “energy superpower” line, with 59% of voters in a May 2025 Angus Reid poll citing it as a key reason for backing Carney. It’s as if they heard “superpower” and stopped listening, dazzled by the promise of greatness without checking the receipt.

How did Canadians swallow Carney’s campaign hook, line, and sinker? It’s not just their trust in media or Carney’s polished CV. It’s a national penchant for optimism over scrutiny, a belief that a leader with a resume longer than a Canadian winter must know what he’s doing. The 2025 election saw a 69% voter turnout, one of the highest in decades, driven by fears of U.S. tariffs and economic uncertainty. Carney capitalized on this, painting himself as the steady hand to navigate the storm, while his opponents, like Poilievre, were dismissed as divisive by the media. Never mind that Carney’s promises were as solid as a snowflake in July—Canadians wanted a hero, and he played the part to perfection.

In the end, Mark Carney didn’t need to lie outright; he just needed to stretch the truth like a yoga instructor on a power trip. Zeroing out tariffs? More like a temporary ceasefire with no real wins. Axing the carbon tax? Only the bit that voters notice, while the industry still chokes on regulations. Energy superpower? Sure, if you count vague promises and a refusal to commit to pipelines. Canadians, with their endearing trust in authority and media, didn’t just fall for it—they practically threw a parade for it.

Mark Carney, the wily fox, knew exactly what he was doing when he spun these tales, and it’s clear he doesn’t hold Canadians in high esteem—more like a gaggle of gullible imbeciles who’d clap for a PowerPoint presentation if it had enough buzzwords. He banked on their trust in CBC’s soothing tones and CTV’s glossy graphics, knowing that a populace weaned on phony politeness would buy anything that was packaged nicely. Next time, perhaps, they’ll check the script before buying the tickets.