Rise and fall of Canada's outgoing PM
Proceeding from a recent article, The New York Times describes that Justin Trudeau's announcement to step down as Canada's prime minister in 2025 signals the culmination of a political era.
In the early days of Justin Trudeau’s tenure as prime minister, a journalist asked him why his cabinet was 50 per cent female. His now-famous reply was simple: “Because it’s 2015.” If you’re wondering why he announced his resignation as prime minister this week, the answer is just as straightforward: “Because it’s 2025.”
When Trudeau first came to power in 2015, he represented a new wave of politics, marked by his savvy use of social media and a celebrity charm that helped him secure victory.
Mr. Trudeau remained true to himself, but the world around him shifted. The harshest critique one could level against him—one I’ve shared—is that he failed to confront the challenges of an increasingly divided world. However, this shortcoming stems from the very qualities that initially propelled him into power.
The failure of Trudeau’s inclusive vision goes beyond cultural debates. Canada’s economic strength has long been tied to broad, cross-party support for well-managed immigration, which has helped offset the challenges posed by an aging, small population. However, his government’s post-Covid immigration policy—bringing in half a million immigrants annually without a solid plan to address housing and infrastructure pressures—has proven disastrous. His idealistic faith in immigration as a positive force may have blinded him to its limits. As a result, the proportion of Canadians who believe there is too much immigration has surged by over 30 percentage points in just two years.
At times, Mr. Trudeau appears to embody virtue signaling without delivering meaningful policy, a hallmark of progressive politics as it has regressed over the past decade. During his tenure, land acknowledgments became widespread in Canada, but Indigenous life expectancy continued to decline. It’s worth noting that virtue signaling is not just a Trudeau issue—it has long been a Canadian tendency. What Canadians now despise about Trudeau is, in part, a reflection of what they dislike about themselves, which helps explain the depth of the animosity directed at him.
In many ways, Mr. Trudeau is a tragic figure—what made him remarkable is ultimately contributing to his downfall. At his best, he was able to leverage his photogenic appeal to push through serious, meaningful policies.
During the first half of his time in office, the Trudeau government reduced child poverty by half, legalized marijuana and medical assistance in dying, and made significant investments in child care. The latter half of his tenure, however, was dominated by crises: negotiating with the increasingly unpredictable Trump administration, managing the pandemic, and dealing with inflation. By any reasonable measure, his government handled these challenges as effectively as could be expected. Leaders who held power during the post-Covid period have largely faced rejection worldwide. While that rejection is understandable, it’s not necessarily logical.
Mr. Trudeau will serve as a lame-duck prime minister until his party selects a new leader (he also announced on Monday that he would resign as head of the Liberal Party). The year 2025 doesn’t seem to be one focused on nuance or understanding the broader context of his tenure. Still, two things can be true at once: Trudeau’s politics of representation have crumbled despite his good intentions, yet he leaves behind a legacy that has undeniably shaped Canada for the better. It might take until 2035 for Canadians to fully appreciate this duality.
By Naila Huseynova