From British Blunders to Canadian Crossroads
When governments turn offence into law, liberty collapses into sentiment. Canada risks importing Britain’s mistakes, just as J.D. Vance warned Europe in Munich.
In the shadow of recent global upheavals—from the echoes of January 6 in Washington to the street-level tensions in European cities—nations are grappling with how to safeguard democracy without strangling the very freedoms that define it. Enter Canada’s Bill C-9, the so-called Combatting Hate Act, introduced on September 19, 2025, by Justice Minister Arif Virani. On the surface, it’s a well-intentioned bid to fortify protections against hate propaganda, hate crimes, and intimidation at religious or cultural sites. The bill amends the Criminal Code to eliminate the need for Attorney General consent before laying charges for hate propaganda offenses, streamlines prosecutions, and introduces new penalties for obstructing access to places of worship. Who could argue with making communities safer, especially amid rising antisemitism, Islamophobia, and other forms of bigotry?
Yet, beneath this veneer of protection lies a peril more insidious than the hatred it seeks to curb: the tyranny of feeling. When governments codify subjective offense into objective law, they don’t just police actions—they police thoughts, words, and the messy pluralism of public discourse. Bill C-9 isn’t merely a legal tweak; it’s a gateway to a sentiment-driven state where hurt feelings become handcuffs, and dissent is rebranded as danger. As U.S. Vice President J.D. Vance thundered at the Munich Security Conference in February 2025, Europe—and by extension, its transatlantic cousins like Canada—must heed the “retreat” of free speech before it’s too late. Vance’s words, delivered to a room of rattled European leaders, weren’t hyperbole. They were a siren call against the very trajectory Canada now courts.
The Slippery Slope of Sentiment
Bill C-9 expands the Criminal Code’s hate propaganda provisions, making it easier to prosecute expressions deemed “willfully [to] promote hatred against any identifiable group.” It also criminalizes “deliberately intimidating or obstructing” access to religious or cultural spaces, with penalties up to five years in prison. Proponents, including the government, frame this as essential for vulnerable communities: “Canadians of all races and ethnicities, faiths, sexualities and genders” deserve to “feel safe.” Fair enough. No one disputes the scourge of hate-fueled violence.
But critics, from the Canadian Civil Liberties Association (CCLA) to the International Civil Liberties Monitoring Group (ICLMG), warn of overreach. The CCLA argues the bill “risks criminalizing peaceful protest,” potentially ensnaring activists who block access to sites during demonstrations—think pro-Palestine rallies near synagogues or anti-abortion vigils outside clinics. The ICLMG goes further, decrying it as a tool to “criminalize dissent,” particularly against marginalized voices challenging state narratives on issues like Israel’s actions in Gaza. In a nation where Section 2 of the Charter enshrines freedom of expression as fundamental, this isn’t reform—it’s regression.
The tyranny here is emotional, not ideological. Laws like C-9 prioritize feelings over facts, elevating the subjective sting of offense above the objective clash of ideas. What constitutes “hatred”? Who decides when a protest crosses into “intimidation”? In practice, it’s often those in power, wielding the gavel like a sentiment gauge. This isn’t hyperbole; it’s history in the making.
Lessons from Across the Pond: Britain’s Cautionary Tale
Canada doesn’t need to speculate on the fallout—our neighbor to the east, Britain, has already walked this path and stumbled hard. The UK’s Communications Act of 2003 and Public Order Act of 1986 have long criminalized “grossly offensive” or “abusive” messages, leading to a parade of absurdities that Vance lambasted in Munich as evidence of free speech’s “retreat.”
Consider the cases: In 2012, a man was arrested for a Facebook post joking about digging up Nelson Mandela’s grave. Fast-forward to 2024’s summer riots, where pensioners and housewives faced jail for “offensive” social media posts criticizing immigration—posts that, in a freer society, might spark debate but not handcuffs. The Online Safety Act of 2023, hailed as a bulwark against harms, has instead amplified fears of a “chilling effect,” with platforms preemptively censoring content to avoid fines. As one commentator put it, the UK risks becoming a “tin pot Third World dictatorship” where even mild dissent invites the knock at the door.
Vance didn’t mince words in Munich: “In Britain, and across Europe, free speech, I fear, is in retreat.” He accused leaders of suppressing voters’ voices on migration and culture, prioritizing elite comfort over democratic vitality. European dignitaries bristled—German Chancellor Olaf Scholz called it “unhelpful”—but Vance’s critique landed because it’s rooted in reality. Britain’s experiment shows that when offense becomes the offense, liberty doesn’t just erode; it evaporates.
Canada, with its polite national mythos, might fancy itself immune. But Bill C-9 imports this exact playbook: vague thresholds for “hate,” expedited prosecutions, and a cultural tilt toward harmony at speech’s expense. We’re not talking about incitement to violence—already illegal under Section 319 of the Criminal Code. We’re talking about broadening the net to catch the uncomfortable, the provocative, the merely felt as harmful.
A Transatlantic Warning for a Northern Neighbor
Vance’s Munich address wasn’t just a U.S. flex; it was a mirror for allies like Canada. “The people of Europe are speaking,” he said, urging a rejection of “backsliding on freedom of speech and democracy.” For Canadians, the message is urgent: Don’t follow Britain’s lead into this sentimental snare. Our Charter isn’t a suggestion; it’s a bulwark. Yet bills like C-9 chip away at it, one “protected feeling” at a time.
Imagine a future where a tweet decrying government policy on indigenous land rights is flagged as “hate” against settlers. Or where a satirical cartoon about religious extremism draws charges of intimidation. These aren’t hypotheticals—they’re the UK’s present, and Canada’s potential.
Reclaiming Liberty from the Grip of Sentiment
The path forward isn’t to abandon protections against real harm but to refine them with precision, not passion. Demand amendments to C-9: Clear definitions, robust Charter safeguards, and independent oversight to prevent abuse. Engage your MP—Substack readers, fire up those newsletters; LinkedIn professionals, leverage your networks; website visitors, share this far and wide.
Liberty thrives not in the absence of offense but in its endurance. As Vance reminded Munich, true security comes from robust debate, not muffled mouths. Canada, let’s learn from Britain’s stumbles before we trip into the same darkness. The tyranny of feeling is seductive, but it’s no match for the light of free thought.
If this resonates, subscribe for more on the fraying edges of freedom. Share your thoughts below—what’s one “offense” you’d fight to keep legal?
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