• By: Dan Donovan

The Barn’s on Fire — and Mark Carney Could Be Cooked if His November 4 Budget Is All Hat, No Horse

Mark Carney was sworn in as Canada’s 24th Prime Minister on March 14, 2025. In the six months since, he’s delivered a handful of headline-worthy moves — but whether they’ve translated into meaningful change is another matter.

One of his first acts was scrapping the federal consumer carbon tax on April 1 — a corrosive levy authored by the very Liberal caucus he now leads. The move lowered fuel and home heating costs for millions of Canadians, and the Bank of Canada estimates it could shave 0.7 percentage points off the Consumer Price Index over the next year. In July, Carney introduced a middle-class tax cut, reducing the lowest federal income tax bracket to 14 percent, saving two-income households up to $840 annually.

His government also passed Bill C-5 — the One Canadian Economy Act — aimed at removing federal barriers to interprovincial trade and labour mobility. Economists have suggested this could unlock up to $200 billion in growth, but that figure remains speculative unless Carney repeals other Liberal-era legislation — notably Bill C-69 and C-48 — which continue to stifle resource development and deter investment.

On the international front, Carney touted progress on steel and aluminum tariffs following his meeting with President Trump, though most Canada-U.S. trade was already tariff-free under existing agreements. He’s increased defence spending and launched a Defence Industrial Strategy to bolster Arctic security. His government’s seven national priorities — affordability, housing, economic unification, sovereignty, partnerships, spending, and immigration — remain broadly popular, with over 80 percent public support.

Yet for millions of Canadians still drowning in rent hikes, grocery bills, and ER wait times longer than a Netflix binge, these early wins feel more like political theatre than economic rescue. Carney’s approach to solving problems — many inherited from the previous Liberal government — has been to simply add more government. More spending, more programs, more panels, more press conferences.

Since taking office, his government has racked up a projected $62.3 billion deficit for 2025–26 — nearly 50 percent higher than the Trudeau government’s final forecast. Over the next four years, Ottawa plans to borrow $224.8 billion, compared to $131.4 billion under the previous fiscal framework — a staggering $93 billion increase. As economist Milton Friedman warned, “The government solution to a problem is usually as bad as the problem.” And Margaret Thatcher put it even more bluntly: “The problem with socialism is that you eventually run out of other people’s money.”

Carney’s seven priorities may poll well, but they haven’t moved the needle on affordability or housing — they’ve just moved more paper across more desks, while the national credit card smolders.

The Conservative opposition has pointed to several facts in Parliament that are difficult to dispute. The national debt has surpassed $1.4 trillion. Despite Carney’s pledge to restore fiscal discipline, Ottawa’s spending trajectory remains steep, with no clear plan to reduce the deficit or shrink the bloated civil service.

Food inflation remains stubbornly high, hovering around 6.2 percent year-over-year. Prices for staples like dairy, meat, and produce have outpaced wage growth, leaving many families struggling to afford basic necessities. Taxes have not been broadly reduced. While the consumer carbon tax was eliminated, industrial carbon pricing remains in place. Small businesses and middle-income earners continue to face high compliance costs and bracket creep, with no meaningful relief in sight.

Foreign investment has stalled. In Q2 2025, foreign direct investment dropped by 12 percent. Investors cite regulatory uncertainty, high taxes, and the continued existence of Bill C-69 and C-48 as major deterrents. Despite campaign signals, Carney has yet to repeal either.

Healthcare is not just “in limbo” — it’s in gridlock. In provinces like Quebec and Alberta, median ER wait times now exceed 8 hours, with some hospitals reporting cases over 13 hours. These delays reflect a system buckling under pressure. One major factor? Canada’s reckless immigration surge, which brought in over 950,000 newcomers in the past 12 months, many qualified only for entry-level service jobs in sectors already saturated. The result: more people needing care, housing, and social support — without the infrastructure to absorb them. Even the Canadian Medical Association has warned that Canada “can’t recruit its way out” of a health workforce crisis.

Immigration backlogs persist, with over 1.1 million applications unresolved. Provinces are sounding the alarm, warning that federal intake is outpacing provincial capacity. Housing starts have declined by 8 percent since April, despite promises to fast-track construction and unlock federal lands.

Public Safety Minister Gary Anandasangaree faced criticism when he admitted the government had “lost track” of over 600 criminal immigrants flagged for deportation — some convicted of violent crimes.

And here’s where the Liberal legacy really bites. The Trudeau government’s 2019 Bill C-75 rewrote Canada’s bail laws to prioritize “release at the earliest opportunity.” Judges were nudged to let violent offenders walk — and many did. The architects of this disaster? Still in Carney’s cabinet.

Meanwhile, violent crime continues to rise. Toronto has reported a 14 percent increase in gang-related shootings. But instead of confronting the real and disturbing surge in violence, the Carney government has doubled down on the absurd — refusing to support bail reform that would actually protect Canadians. Instead, they introduced a gun control bill targeting sport shooters, farmers, and antique collectors — a policy so disconnected from reality it borders on satire.

Canada’s gun violence crisis isn’t being driven by duck hunters. It’s being driven by criminals using illegal firearms — most of them smuggled in from the United States. Police forces across the country report that up to 90 percent of crime guns originate south of the border, fueling gang shootings, carjackings, and home invasions. But the real failure is at home: Liberal bail reforms introduced in 2019 under Bill C-75 have created a revolving-door justice system where repeat violent offenders are routinely released within hours. Critics say Trudeau-era judicial appointments have prioritized ideology over public safety — targeting legal gun owners while ignoring the criminals pulling the trigger.

When confronted with these facts, Justice Minister Sean Fraser dismissed them with a smirk and said, This isn’t the Wild West. Which is true — because in the actual Wild West, at least the sheriff tried to keep the bad guys in jail. Fraser’s comment wasn’t just tone-deaf; it was a masterclass in cognitive dissonance and political stupidity. If this is the guy in charge of public safety, we’re not just in trouble — we’re in syndication. The criminals are armed, the judges are lenient, and the minister treats law and order like a costume: all badge, no bullets, and nowhere near the sheriff’s office.

And that’s just Fraser on crime. His track record is a highlight reel of policy failure. As Housing Minister, he presided over a collapse in affordability. As Immigration Minister, he flooded the country with temporary residents while provinces begged for infrastructure support. Now, as Justice Minister, he’s attempting a constitutional stunt so unserious it would make a first-year law student cringe.

At Carney’s direction, Fraser filed a motion in the Supreme Court to reinterpret the notwithstanding clause — a political safeguard, not a judicial instrument. It’s not just legally incoherent — it’s a textbook case of cognitive dissonance dressed up as constitutional reform. If Fraser understood the Charter half as well as he understands hashtags, this motion wouldn’t exist. At the Justice Department these days, the lawyers act like the Constitution is just a suggestion — something to be reinterpreted whenever the political mood shifts. Judging by their latest stunt, they must be getting their legal precedent from TikTok and rewriting the Charter with a Sharpie between coffee breaks. It’s not just cavalier — it’s arrogant, unserious, and dangerous.

Canadians didn’t elect Carney because they wanted more government — they elected him because they wanted better government. His credentials and calm demeanour inspired cautious optimism: a hope that competence would replace chaos, and clarity would replace spin. But that optimism is beginning to fade. The reality of his program — more bureaucracy, more spending, more polished but hollow promises — has widened the gap between expectation and execution. The November 4 budget may be Carney’s last chance to close the gap — between promise and performance, ambition and delivery. It will be his rodeo moment: we’ll see if he’s riding the bull or just posing for the photo op. This first budget must be more than a fiscal document — it must be a generational reset. One that separates leadership from theatrics and reveals whether Carney’s vision is anchored in policy or just polished prose. Canadians are expecting a budget that provides:

• A credible plan to reduce the national debt
A leaner, more efficient civil service
Real immigration reform
• Tax and regulatory relief
A roadmap to attract investment and boost productivity

If Carney fails to deliver, the Liberals could face a swift backlash — and a hard dose of realpolitik if key players in Ottawa refuse to indulge their favourite fantasy: that the seven-member NDP caucus will support the government unconditionally, simply because they have nowhere else to go. That assumption is as shaky as the promises it rests on. The NDP is broke, leaderless, and ideologically adrift after the political disaster of Jagmeet Singh, whose tenure left the party with no money, no message, and no momentum. They’ve fallen below the threshold for official party status and are widely seen as tethered to the Liberals by necessity, not conviction.

But if the budget fails to deliver — and if the NDP still possess any strategic instinct (don’t hold your breath) — they could vote it down on November 4. Liberal strategists assume desperation will keep the NDP in line. In fact, the opposite may be true. Singh’s collapse left the party irrelevant, but the voter base remains. Three provinces — B.C., Manitoba, and Nova Scotia — are led by NDP premiers. If Carney stumbles, those voters could return, and the NDP could reclaim 12 to 16 seats — enough to restore status and influence. But that path requires leadership, clarity, and courage — qualities the party hasn’t demonstrated in years.

The NDP Problem

Once the party of working Canadians, the NDP has morphed into a faculty lounge of fringe ideologues. The very voters who once formed its backbone — tradespeople, union members, factory workers — have fled. In Ontario, they handed Doug Ford a majority. Federally, many turned to Poilievre or even Carney, desperate for someone who speaks their language: jobs, affordability, safety — not pronouns and intersectionality.

This collapse didn’t happen overnight. It was the slow-motion fallout of Jagmeet Singh’s leadership — a tenure defined by performative politics and ideological drift. Singh didn’t just lose his seat; he lost the party’s identity. Under his watch, the NDP abandoned its working-class roots in favour of activist theatrics and Twitter sloganeering. The result? A caucus reduced to seven seats, no official party status, and a brand that feels more like a protest movement than a governing alternative.

The obsession with identity politics has rendered the party unrecognizable. Antisemitism, once universally condemned, now festers in activist circles. If Ed Broadbent and Jack Layton could see this mess, they’d be rolling in their graves.

The way back isn’t through TikTok manifestos or ideological purity tests. It’s through reconnecting with working people — shedding the fringe and grievance merchants, and returning to the centre-left realism that once made the NDP a serious force. That means rejecting the far-left field of utopian dreamers and climate cultists who think Greta Thunberg is a policy expert and capitalism is a hate crime.

The leadership race is set for March 29, 2026. The rules read like a casting call for a progressive improv troupe: candidates must collect signatures, but at least 50 percent must be from people who do not identify as cisgender men, and 100 must come from “equity-seeking groups.” It’s democracy by diversity checklist.

The four declared candidates are:

Rob Ashton — a dockworker who wants to revive labour roots, assuming they haven’t been paved over by activist jargon.
Tanille Johnston — a social worker whose platform reads like a grant application.
Avi Lewis — a legacy leftist who thinks capitalism is Canada’s original sin.
Heather McPherson — an Edmonton MP who, despite her party’s drift, still believes in pragmatism and pipelines.

If there’s any hope of the NDP resurfacing on November 4th, it lies with Heather McPherson. Yes, she’s made controversial remarks about Israel, and her blind spot on antisemitism is troubling. But she’s also the only candidate who appears remotely serious about governing. She’s an Albertan — a rarity in the federal NDP — and she’s shown a willingness to break ranks on key issues like energy and infrastructure. While others chase ideological purity, McPherson seems to understand that credibility with voters starts with practical policy, not performance art.

She represents the kind of centre-left realism that could bring the NDP back from the brink. Until then, the party remains a cautionary tale in how to lose your base, your relevance, and your seat — all in one election.