“Yet this moment is also an incredible opportunity. An opportunity for renewal. An opportunity to think big and to act bigger. An opportunity for Canada to embark on the largest transformation of its economy since the Second World War.”
Even accounting for the usual standard for rhetorical hyperbole in throne speeches, talk of the “largest transformation” of Canada’s economy in 80 years certainly stands out. It’s a bold statement that Prime Minister Mark Carney has made several times since he officially entered politics in January. Yet we’re still no further ahead in understanding what precisely it means.
What kind of transformation does he envision? What does it involve? What are the trade-offs? What will it look like? What will it mean for Canadians?
Answers to these basic yet important questions remain decidedly elusive. The first specific policy proposal to appear in the throne speech after these claims about economic transformation was a 1-percentage-point reduction to the lowest personal income tax rate. A tax cut may or may not be a good idea, but it’s hardly proportionate to the government’s purported level of ambition.
The same goes for the speech’s final policy commitment: “…the Government will take a series of measures to catalyse new investment to create better jobs and higher incomes for Canadians. The scale of the Government’s initiative will match the challenges of our times and the ambitions of Canadians.” What the heck does that mean?
Remember, Carney and the Liberals’ election success was rooted in large part to vibes. Canadians had a collective intuition that something about his background, experience, and temperament made him best suited to lead the country during a time of unprecedented uncertainty.
This enabled the prime minister to get through the campaign by playing up his vague ambitions for the country and subordinating his actual policy proposals. We got a mix of tax cuts and program spending, a Crown corporation for housing construction, and a broad commitment in favour of more public investment and less consumption. Canadians were otherwise left to project their own assumptions and preferences onto the first-time politician running on the mantle of leadership.
As an electoral strategy, it was highly effective. And in the first month of Carney’s new government, it has contributed to a lot of enthusiasm and goodwill across the country. Canadians have responded positively to the prime minister’s strong presence, economic orientation, and bold vision.
But the speech from the throne is supposed to mark a shift—from campaigning to governing. That shift brings a different set of expectations. Canadians don’t just want soaring rhetoric. They want some sense of how it will manifest itself in public policy and what it means for them and their families.
Now, political rhetoric, it must be said, isn’t inherently a bad thing. In the right moments, it can serve an essential purpose. It can elevate public expectations, coordinate stakeholders, and awaken what Keynes once called the “animal spirits” of a society. Think of President Kennedy’s 1962 soaring speech at Rice University about sending a man to the moon. It wasn’t merely a policy blueprint—it was a challenge, a rallying cry, a declaration of collective ambition. And it worked.
But there’s a fine line between aspiration and abstraction. Soaring rhetoric without accompanying policy details eventually starts to ring hollow. Over time, it can provoke cynicism. It can make citizens feel manipulated. It can trivialize the seriousness of the moment and the wisdom of the public.
Maybe a large-scale transformation of Canada’s economy is the right idea. Maybe we do need to rewire our institutions and reimagine our economic model for a new age. But in a democratic society, such a project requires more than inspiration. It requires legitimacy. And legitimacy can only come from public buy-in. That means telling Canadians what the government is actually planning—what it intends to build, what it intends to tear down, and what trade-offs it expects the country to accept.
Carney still has time, of course, to make the transition from campaign rhetoric to a governing agenda. But that transition must start to come soon. Otherwise, the danger is that his government becomes defined not by what it achieves, but by the distance between its words and its deeds.
If the Carney era is ultimately to be transformational, it won’t be because of what was said in the speech from the throne. It will be because of what follows—and whether Canadians are invited into the project not just as spectators, but as full participants.
Sean Speer is The Hub's Editor-at-Large. He is also a university lecturer at the University of Toronto and Carleton University, as well…
