Canada is a country built on decency. But this quality of being well-mannered and kind may be undermining something essential: our future.
As we mark Canada Day, we should ask ourselves a hard question: why does striving to be our best and succeed so often feel out of place here?
This is not a criticism of our core values, but a challenge to our national cultural reflex to shy away from the bold, the exceptional, and the unapologetically driven. Too often in Canada, we celebrate perseverance only after success has been secured—quietly, humbly, and preferably elsewhere. Before that, the desire to excel is something to be tempered, understated, and not openly demonstrated.
I’ve spent the past 10 years speaking to some of the most thoughtful and successful Canadians—people who have built, risked, innovated, and led in ways that should be household stories. But most of them have done so out of the limelight against a cultural grain that treats striving with apprehension and standing out as distasteful.
Take Shane Parrish, founder of Farnam Street and The Knowledge Project, one of the world’s most respected platforms for mental clarity and decision-making. Shane built his influence by asking hard questions, reading deeply, and helping others think better. Yet, he notes, “The Canadian mindset often teaches ambition as negative. It’s as if there is something wrong about it. I think that holds us back. We have the talent and the technology…but we need the will to play for gold.”
Or Zita Cobb, who returned to her remote birthplace of Fogo Island, Newfoundland, after a successful tech career and built not just a luxury inn, but an economic philosophy rooted in local dignity and global design. Her model has inspired communities around the world. But Cobb says what made her project hard wasn’t money or logistics. “It was convincing people that it was okay to dream big.”
That hesitation is familiar to Lucy Hargreaves, co-founder of Build Canada, a national builder movement with a mission to make Canada the most prosperous country in the world. “If our kids grow up believing ‘good enough’ is patriotic,” she says, “we’ll keep losing them to places where ‘great’ is the norm.” Her work is rooted in the belief that building—businesses, infrastructure, big ideas—should be seen not as ego-driven but as our civic duty.
These aren’t isolated cases; they’re part of a broader pattern.
In agriculture and business, Dr. Kee Jim, who runs one of the largest cattle feeding operations in North America, sees the same hesitancy. “We have everything we need to lead globally in food production—expertise, integrity, resources—but what we often lack is belief. Not just in ourselves, but in the idea that Canada should lead.”
And Michel Kelly-Gagnon, founder of the Montreal Economic Institute, has long argued “that the ‘intellectual class’ (university professors, media commentators, etc.), which forms the views of the youth and the general public is typically pretty hostile towards business.”
This is the heart of the problem. Somewhere between politeness and fear of appearing rude, we have created a culture where excellence and its pursuit must apologize for itself.
The consequences are not just cultural—they’re economic, educational, and strategic. Our brightest minds are often exported. Our young leaders feel they must dull their edges to fit in. Our institutions reward stability more than imagination, creativity, and excellence demonstrated in global rankings of innovation and productivity, where we are slipping.
So what do we do?
First, we must change how we talk to our children. We should encourage not only good manners, kindness, and cooperation, but also drive, risk-taking, courage, and pride in doing things exceptionally well. Let’s raise kids who dream of building the future, not just managing it.
Second, our institutions—from media to education—must stop treating tall poppies as weeds. Celebrating excellence early and often doesn’t erode humility. It cultivates confidence. It is both inspirational and aspirational.
Third, we need to reimagine leadership. True Canadian leadership doesn’t mean being the quietest voice in the room. It means knowing when to speak clearly, act boldly, set ambitious goals, and aim higher.
Finally, we should stop apologizing for wanting more—for ourselves, our businesses, our communities, and our country. Striving to be our best is not un-Canadian. It’s essential and should be a national core value.
On this Canada Day, let’s honour the politeness that defines us—but let’s reject how it limits us. Our potential is vast. Our people are capable. What we need now is the cultural permission to go further.
And as those who already have—Parrish, Cobb, Hargreaves, Jim, Kelly-Gagnon—remind us: the future isn’t found in playing small. It’s claimed by those willing to believe that something bold, and proudly Canadian, is not only possible, but overdue.
