It's hard to offer much useful advice to the Conservative Party right now given the very definition of conservatism is in unprecedented flux thanks to the rise of Donald Trump as this continent's leading man of the right.  By the time the Canadian Tories elect their new boss — May 27, 2017 â€” Trump will have either been soundly smooshed by the heel of Hillary Clinton, or wrapping up month four in the Oval Office.  Either way, the important lessons to learn are a long ways off.

As citizens of a shared cultural community possessing decidedly common problems, Canadian and American political philosophy is inexorably intertwined, and our political fads and fashions occur mostly in sync.  If Trump's unique flavor of right-wing populism has proven attractive enough to conquer the Republican Party, in short, odds are high the Conservatives could see their electorate morph in similar shape.

The coalition that made Trump the GOP nominee is a complex one.  Plenty of his backers are indeed the uneducated, rural, blue-collar types of popular lore — "the single best predictor of Trump support in the GOP primary is the absence of a college degree" wrote The Atlantic in March — but subsequent primaries have revealed his base also contains a sizable chunk of degree-holding urbanites.  What unifies the team is a few key variables: whiteness, maleness, and above all, a sense of victimization.  The Washington Post found 54% of Trump supporters believed whites were "losing out" more than any other race.

Suggesting life as a white American man was not always a bed of roses used to produce reliable scoffs from liberal intelligentsia, but as rates of suicide spike the laughs have died down.  The stresses of deindustrialization, globalization, and illegal immigration on working class men are well-known, and Trump's message of restraining the flow of trade and people to American shores has resonated predictably.  But other Trump backers — particularly more educated white men — are drawn to The Donald for reasons that have little to do with economics.

Political correctness has reached an insane zeal in the social media age, and the sheer amount of "-phobias" and offenses that now exist, and the ease at which they can evidently be committed — wear the wrong shirt, eat the wrong food, etc — can be smothering.  The only thing uniting these nouveau sins is that if you're a white male you're almost certainly doing something wrong.  How does one navigate the elaborate rules of this world order without winding up a racist, rapist, transphobe, or worse?  Trump's answer is you don't have to — just vote for him and he'll shut all this nonsense down and let you be as crude as he is.  In an increasingly diverse country bogged down in identity games, the notion of a president who unapologetically embraces the shallowest stereotypes of traditional American manhood provides some with infinite comfort.

Canada's white men are not immune to such feelings.  The promise of a perpetually booming energy sector initially helped soften Canada's massive deindustrialization-related job losses, but a collapse in oil prices, the rise of green politics, and now, the uncertain fate of Fort McMurray have eliminated cause for optimism.  For those in theoretical possession of greater economic opportunity, Canada's campuses and media remain as obsessed with the PC arms race as America's, and the Prime Minister has made it clear he intends to stand with the social justice meme-makers whenever possible.  His official mantra that Canada must be understood as a multicultural, "post-national" state makes it hard for those outside the diversity rainbow to claim any notion of patriotism that doesn't involve self-loathing.

If Trump becomes president, he will have demonstrated that the economic and cultural resentments of America's supposedly most-privileged caste are powerful enough to overrule the liberal coalition who claim to own the future.  In that case, Canada's next Tory leader, whoever it is, will have to start paying a lot closer attention to the Trumpkins in this country.

If Trump loses, however, his downfall will expose the dangers of taking the white-victim narrative too seriously.  It will demonstrate the need not for ignoring the plight of alienated and depressed white men, but forming a political strategy capable of harnessing their energy behind an agenda that enchants other groups too.

Whether deliberately or not, Trump has become a solution to a perceived problem believed by a large chunk of the electorate.  Tories who fear what he has wrought had best start working on a better answer.

Written by J.J McCullough

It's hard to offer much useful advice to the Conservative Party right now given the very definition of conservatism is in unprecedented flux thanks to the rise of Donald Trump as this continent's leading man of the right.  By the time the Canadian Tories elect their new boss — May 27, 2017 â€” Trump will have either been soundly smooshed by the heel of Hillary Clinton, or wrapping up month four in the Oval Office.  Either way, the important lessons to learn are a long ways off.

As citizens of a shared cultural community possessing decidedly common problems, Canadian and American political philosophy is inexorably intertwined, and our political fads and fashions occur mostly in sync.  If Trump's unique flavor of right-wing populism has proven attractive enough to conquer the Republican Party, in short, odds are high the Conservatives could see their electorate morph in similar shape.

The coalition that made Trump the GOP nominee is a complex one.  Plenty of his backers are indeed the uneducated, rural, blue-collar types of popular lore — "the single best predictor of Trump support in the GOP primary is the absence of a college degree" wrote The Atlantic in March — but subsequent primaries have revealed his base also contains a sizable chunk of degree-holding urbanites.  What unifies the team is a few key variables: whiteness, maleness, and above all, a sense of victimization.  The Washington Post found 54% of Trump supporters believed whites were "losing out" more than any other race.

Suggesting life as a white American man was not always a bed of roses used to produce reliable scoffs from liberal intelligentsia, but as rates of suicide spike the laughs have died down.  The stresses of deindustrialization, globalization, and illegal immigration on working class men are well-known, and Trump's message of restraining the flow of trade and people to American shores has resonated predictably.  But other Trump backers — particularly more educated white men — are drawn to The Donald for reasons that have little to do with economics.

Political correctness has reached an insane zeal in the social media age, and the sheer amount of "-phobias" and offenses that now exist, and the ease at which they can evidently be committed — wear the wrong shirt, eat the wrong food, etc — can be smothering.  The only thing uniting these nouveau sins is that if you're a white male you're almost certainly doing something wrong.  How does one navigate the elaborate rules of this world order without winding up a racist, rapist, transphobe, or worse?  Trump's answer is you don't have to — just vote for him and he'll shut all this nonsense down and let you be as crude as he is.  In an increasingly diverse country bogged down in identity games, the notion of a president who unapologetically embraces the shallowest stereotypes of traditional American manhood provides some with infinite comfort.

Canada's white men are not immune to such feelings.  The promise of a perpetually booming energy sector initially helped soften Canada's massive deindustrialization-related job losses, but a collapse in oil prices, the rise of green politics, and now, the uncertain fate of Fort McMurray have eliminated cause for optimism.  For those in theoretical possession of greater economic opportunity, Canada's campuses and media remain as obsessed with the PC arms race as America's, and the Prime Minister has made it clear he intends to stand with the social justice meme-makers whenever possible.  His official mantra that Canada must be understood as a multicultural, "post-national" state makes it hard for those outside the diversity rainbow to claim any notion of patriotism that doesn't involve self-loathing.

If Trump becomes president, he will have demonstrated that the economic and cultural resentments of America's supposedly most-privileged caste are powerful enough to overrule the liberal coalition who claim to own the future.  In that case, Canada's next Tory leader, whoever it is, will have to start paying a lot closer attention to the Trumpkins in this country.

If Trump loses, however, his downfall will expose the dangers of taking the white-victim narrative too seriously.  It will demonstrate the need not for ignoring the plight of alienated and depressed white men, but forming a political strategy capable of harnessing their energy behind an agenda that enchants other groups too.

Whether deliberately or not, Trump has become a solution to a perceived problem believed by a large chunk of the electorate.  Tories who fear what he has wrought had best start working on a better answer.

Written by J.J McCullough