Louise Arbour, a former Supreme Court justice and United Nations high commissioner for human rights, has spent her career taking on the world’s most notorious human rights violators. And yet one of her most formidable challenges is domestic. In May, Arbour released the results of her year-long inquiry into the Canadian Armed Forces, sparked by a string of sexual misconduct allegations—some involving the organization’s top brass. The report was unequivocally damning: the military’s culture is deficient; its colleges outdated. “I was told that almost every female cadet has experienced an incident or more of sexual misconduct ‘or worse,’ ” she wrote. Now, the federal government is tasked with implementing Arbour’s 48 recommendations, which include handing over sexual misconduct cases to civilian courts. Progress is slow, and Arbour is patient—to a point.

Yours is the second inquiry into the military’s handling of sexual misconduct cases in seven years. How is this report different?

Justice Marie Deschamps’s report was pretty earth-shattering in exposing how ingrained sexual misconduct was in military culture. But looking at the remediation that would come from a criminal justice response was outside of her mandate. When I came along, there was a lot of concern that change had not been implemented, even coming from the auditor general. My report looks at two issues: the continued prevalence of sexual misconduct, and allegations against very senior members of the Armed Forces. I was trying to see how people with these character flaws manage to progress through the ranks.

Your most talked-about recommendation is that the military hand over sexual misconduct complaints to civilian courts, where conviction rates in these cases are famously low. What reasonable expectation of justice can victims have even if that change is made?

I’m not suggesting for a minute that the civilian system is perfect, but the military system has features that are even more problematic. The main one is the duty to report. It’s hard enough for any victim of criminal sexual assault to come forward, but to have to tell your chain of command in an environment where nothing will happen, aside from a slap on the wrist? There are also informal reprisals, like being ostracized by colleagues. A lot of corrective measures have been put in place over the years in the civilian system, including establishing specialized courts for sexual offences and attempts to displace myths and stereotypes. In the civilian arena, people report crimes because the system will react positively. In the military, the opposite happens.

When she’s not taking on egregious human rights offences, Arbour likes to relax at her cottage with her dog, Snoro.

You said that one impediment to progress is the assumption that misogyny is the root cause for the problems in the military. But isn’t misogyny the key issue?

Oh, there’s no question. Women always served in military support positions, like nursing, but they were only fully integrated into combat when the courts ordered it. It’s not enough to think that, over time, this culture will start to dissipate. The military has to accept that it can’t fix everything by itself. It has uniformity in its DNA. So if they keep thinking they can change things with PowerPoints and internal anti-misconduct initiatives, it’s not going to happen.

How do you rehabilitate an organization whose members inflict and enable abuses within its own ranks? It’s a snake eating its own tail.

The military could use external partners like the Canadian Human Rights Commission. It could also bring in experts from the civil corporate sector or send cadets to civilian universities, where diversity is years ahead of what we’ll ever see in military colleges. If you just recruit white boys who like guns but don’t like women or anybody who doesn’t look like them, you’ll perpetuate that culture.

You’ve spent a lot of time on conflicts that the international community initially showed little urgency in dealing with, like Darfur and Rwanda. How do you deal with human rights abuses being met with politicking and platitudes?

When I indicted Slobodan Milošević for war crimes, I thought, This is the beginning of a new era. When I was the high commissioner for human rights, there was a lot of momentum, too. But I started to understand that “momentum” was a Western-driven concept, and a tone-deaf one. The Western position—that our values were good—fell apart when we were asked to do something that was hard for us, like deal with the rights of migrants. I realized that what I thought would be constant, linear progress on these great ideas was, in fact, cyclical. I think we’re in a low part of the cycle now.

You said the Canadian military favours the appearance of implementation over substance. You could argue the federal government has similar limitations.

That’s true. I don’t think there’s anything in my report that is ideologically unacceptable to the government, but it’s not a priority. There’s no price to pay for not doing anything—until seven years later, when you appoint another judge.

Well, the price for inaction isn’t being paid by the military or the government. It’s being paid by the victims.

Exactly, and they’ve been very courageous to come forward. But until there’s widespread public and political mobilization, it’s hard to expect quick implementation. I always hated the expression “being the voice of the victims.” They have voices; what they need is a megaphone.

Mary Fisk, one of your former principal advisors, said that people in your inner circle were occasionally frustrated that you weren’t more outspoken about certain issues.

Mary’s a good friend; I’m sure she was struggling to say something negative. (I’m kidding.) Others were frustrated because I’m very results-oriented. The naming-and-shaming culture that’s very prevalent in NGOs—that’s their weapon. I don’t know if that’s how I can be most efficient. I could look good by banging my fist on the table, but what’s that going to achieve?

I just don’t think that any person with a heart can look at the kinds of horrors that go on and not want to be more forceful to make things better.

I am sure, because of that, they’d want to be very strategic and think: well, okay, after I bang my fist, how can I outsmart these people? How can I make them do something I know they don’t want to do?

I’m sure polite diplomacy can only go so far with despots. Eventually, you have to show your teeth.

It depends on what tools you have. I didn’t always have the capacity to do something concrete. Issuing an indictment is a nice way to do it, especially after you’ve been dismissed as just “this little woman.” You wait and wait, and when you’re ready: boom.

What makes you immune to the paralysis that can come from witnessing so much tragedy?

Well, what’s the alternative? Give up altogether. I’m going to Africa now because I’m on the board of the Mastercard Foundation. On the way back, I stop in Geneva, where I’m a member of the Global Commission on Drug Policy. I don’t weep at the fate of the world when I’m packing my bags. I’m often moved, but I’m always looking for fixes. I think, with any luck, the phone won’t ring, and I’ll just sit on my dock with my 110-pound dog, Snoro. Then something else comes up, and there I go again.

This article appears in print in the August 2022 issue of Maclean’s magazine. Subscribe to the monthly print magazine here, or buy the issue online here. 

The post Louise Arbour is fighting to reform Canada’s military appeared first on Macleans.ca.

Louise Arbour, a former Supreme Court justice and United Nations high commissioner for human rights, has spent her career taking on the world’s most notorious human rights violators. And yet one of her most formidable challenges is domestic. In May, Arbour released the results of her year-long inquiry into the Canadian Armed Forces, sparked by a string of sexual misconduct allegations—some involving the organization’s top brass. The report was unequivocally damning: the military’s culture is deficient; its colleges outdated. “I was told that almost every female cadet has experienced an incident or more of sexual misconduct ‘or worse,’ ” she wrote. Now, the federal government is tasked with implementing Arbour’s 48 recommendations, which include handing over sexual misconduct cases to civilian courts. Progress is slow, and Arbour is patient—to a point.

Yours is the second inquiry into the military’s handling of sexual misconduct cases in seven years. How is this report different?

Justice Marie Deschamps’s report was pretty earth-shattering in exposing how ingrained sexual misconduct was in military culture. But looking at the remediation that would come from a criminal justice response was outside of her mandate. When I came along, there was a lot of concern that change had not been implemented, even coming from the auditor general. My report looks at two issues: the continued prevalence of sexual misconduct, and allegations against very senior members of the Armed Forces. I was trying to see how people with these character flaws manage to progress through the ranks.

Your most talked-about recommendation is that the military hand over sexual misconduct complaints to civilian courts, where conviction rates in these cases are famously low. What reasonable expectation of justice can victims have even if that change is made?

I’m not suggesting for a minute that the civilian system is perfect, but the military system has features that are even more problematic. The main one is the duty to report. It’s hard enough for any victim of criminal sexual assault to come forward, but to have to tell your chain of command in an environment where nothing will happen, aside from a slap on the wrist? There are also informal reprisals, like being ostracized by colleagues. A lot of corrective measures have been put in place over the years in the civilian system, including establishing specialized courts for sexual offences and attempts to displace myths and stereotypes. In the civilian arena, people report crimes because the system will react positively. In the military, the opposite happens.

When she’s not taking on egregious human rights offences, Arbour likes to relax at her cottage with her dog, Snoro.

You said that one impediment to progress is the assumption that misogyny is the root cause for the problems in the military. But isn’t misogyny the key issue?

Oh, there’s no question. Women always served in military support positions, like nursing, but they were only fully integrated into combat when the courts ordered it. It’s not enough to think that, over time, this culture will start to dissipate. The military has to accept that it can’t fix everything by itself. It has uniformity in its DNA. So if they keep thinking they can change things with PowerPoints and internal anti-misconduct initiatives, it’s not going to happen.

How do you rehabilitate an organization whose members inflict and enable abuses within its own ranks? It’s a snake eating its own tail.

The military could use external partners like the Canadian Human Rights Commission. It could also bring in experts from the civil corporate sector or send cadets to civilian universities, where diversity is years ahead of what we’ll ever see in military colleges. If you just recruit white boys who like guns but don’t like women or anybody who doesn’t look like them, you’ll perpetuate that culture.

You’ve spent a lot of time on conflicts that the international community initially showed little urgency in dealing with, like Darfur and Rwanda. How do you deal with human rights abuses being met with politicking and platitudes?

When I indicted Slobodan Milošević for war crimes, I thought, This is the beginning of a new era. When I was the high commissioner for human rights, there was a lot of momentum, too. But I started to understand that “momentum” was a Western-driven concept, and a tone-deaf one. The Western position—that our values were good—fell apart when we were asked to do something that was hard for us, like deal with the rights of migrants. I realized that what I thought would be constant, linear progress on these great ideas was, in fact, cyclical. I think we’re in a low part of the cycle now.

You said the Canadian military favours the appearance of implementation over substance. You could argue the federal government has similar limitations.

That’s true. I don’t think there’s anything in my report that is ideologically unacceptable to the government, but it’s not a priority. There’s no price to pay for not doing anything—until seven years later, when you appoint another judge.

Well, the price for inaction isn’t being paid by the military or the government. It’s being paid by the victims.

Exactly, and they’ve been very courageous to come forward. But until there’s widespread public and political mobilization, it’s hard to expect quick implementation. I always hated the expression “being the voice of the victims.” They have voices; what they need is a megaphone.

Mary Fisk, one of your former principal advisors, said that people in your inner circle were occasionally frustrated that you weren’t more outspoken about certain issues.

Mary’s a good friend; I’m sure she was struggling to say something negative. (I’m kidding.) Others were frustrated because I’m very results-oriented. The naming-and-shaming culture that’s very prevalent in NGOs—that’s their weapon. I don’t know if that’s how I can be most efficient. I could look good by banging my fist on the table, but what’s that going to achieve?

I just don’t think that any person with a heart can look at the kinds of horrors that go on and not want to be more forceful to make things better.

I am sure, because of that, they’d want to be very strategic and think: well, okay, after I bang my fist, how can I outsmart these people? How can I make them do something I know they don’t want to do?

I’m sure polite diplomacy can only go so far with despots. Eventually, you have to show your teeth.

It depends on what tools you have. I didn’t always have the capacity to do something concrete. Issuing an indictment is a nice way to do it, especially after you’ve been dismissed as just “this little woman.” You wait and wait, and when you’re ready: boom.

What makes you immune to the paralysis that can come from witnessing so much tragedy?

Well, what’s the alternative? Give up altogether. I’m going to Africa now because I’m on the board of the Mastercard Foundation. On the way back, I stop in Geneva, where I’m a member of the Global Commission on Drug Policy. I don’t weep at the fate of the world when I’m packing my bags. I’m often moved, but I’m always looking for fixes. I think, with any luck, the phone won’t ring, and I’ll just sit on my dock with my 110-pound dog, Snoro. Then something else comes up, and there I go again.

This article appears in print in the August 2022 issue of Maclean’s magazine. Subscribe to the monthly print magazine here, or buy the issue online here. 

The post Louise Arbour is fighting to reform Canada’s military appeared first on Macleans.ca.

On Tuesday, Bill C-11, a law that will regulate online media from services such as YouTube or Netflix passed the Senate, leaving and YouTubers and other content creators in Canada increasingly worried that the bill threatens the way content creators earn a living by affecting visibility and potentially limiting video views. 

Referred to as the Online Streaming Act, Bill C-11intends to highlight and promote Canadian content—CanCon in the world of streaming—and would put online content under the jurisdiction of the Canadian Radio-television and Telecommunications Commission (CRTC). This would require streaming platforms to showcase Canadian content more than they currently do. 

That means that platforms like Netflix would have to recommend more Canadian-made shows like Schitt’s Creek or other Canadian-made content ahead of non-Canadian content. Under the new proposed bill, these streaming services will be “pushing” content onto viewers even if it doesn’t match their viewing patterns, meaning you may see less of the content you want in order for the platforms to meet the Canadian quota.

This is a worry for content creators on YouTube in particularl, where its algorithm curates and recommends videos based on feedback from users based on everything from how long a video is viewed to how quickly it is skipped. If a creator’s videos are forcefully promoted by YouTube to adhere to Bill C-11 and the content isn’t a match for the viewer, then the viewer could skip that video causing the creator’s channel to drop in visibility.  The bill would also regulate the time and types of advertising a Canadian creator’s channel can have, further limiting their sources of revenue.

Canadian YouTuber J.J. McCullough has 782,000 subscribers to his channel. He spoke at a Parliamentary hearing earlier this month to oppose the Online Streaming Act and its introduction into Canadian law and shares his thoughts on the experience and potential impact of Bill C-11: 

The hearing was revealing. I’ve never been part of a parliamentary committee before, so I put a lot of effort into trying to come up with a powerful opening statement and people responded quite favorably to it. I took the process seriously.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b4fuMKeGRMg

I had worked in television for a few years as a TV political pundit and so I had gotten comfortable being on camera. I worked for Sun News in its final years and when it shut down in 2015, I was abruptly out of a job. That was when I started my YouTube channel and I’ve been doing it for over six years now—but only professionally for the last two or so, in terms of it being my primary source of income. 

It can be exhausting. You write the scripts, film the videos, edit them and add all the sound effects and graphics and all those things. But I like creative projects. It’s very rewarding to see the reactions that my content gets, especially from young people. As I get older, I feel like there’s a paternalistic side to me that’s coming out more and so I like to know that I’m helping and that’s very rewarding and very validating to me because that’s ultimately what I got into this business to do. 

I’m grateful to have the chance to do this full-time, but my new career now seems at-risk now with Bill C-11; it’s crushing that so much hard work and passion could now disappear because of it.

The way that YouTube works at present is that the content audiences discover is determined by a control algorithm that recommends videos based on what YouTube perceives the user to be interested in. For example, if my YouTube habit suggests that I’m interested in cooking videos, then YouTube will naturally recommend a lot of cooking videos.

We know from the text of the bill that the CRTC is going to be given a mandate to promote the ‘discoverability’ of Canadian content, specifically, and that websites under the CRTC jurisdiction, such as YouTube, will be obligated to comply with this discoverability mandate. 

What this means is that the CRTC is going to have to come up with some sort of criteria for what is good Canadian content and then YouTube is going to have to live up to its legal obligations to promote and recommend that content.

Overnight, creators are going to wake up and find the kind of content that has previously been successful in an unregulated YouTube is no longer successful in a regulated YouTube. As a result, they will either have to change the nature of content that they make in order to make it more overtly Canadian—whatever that means—or they could possibly be at a disadvantage. That could mean their viewership, and thus revenues, take a hit. That’s something that I think is quite worrying to a lot of YouTubers.

The thing that really struck me from the parliamentary hearings—and this is just a personal insight—was that when witnesses are testifying, you would think they’re the center of attention. But when you’re there in-person, almost none of the politicians seem to be listening at all. Everybody is just on their phone. It was incredibly upsetting and disrespectful. 

It felt like whistling in the wind.

— As told to Nicholas Seles

The post Why YouTubers like me oppose Bill C-11 appeared first on Macleans.ca.

On Tuesday, Bill C-11, a law that will regulate online media from services such as YouTube or Netflix passed through to the Senate, leaving and YouTubers and other content creators in Canada increasingly worried that the bill threatens the way content creators earn a living by affecting visibility and potentially limiting video views. 

Referred to as the Online Streaming Act, Bill C-11intends to highlight and promote Canadian content—CanCon in the world of streaming—and would put online content under the jurisdiction of the Canadian Radio-television and Telecommunications Commission (CRTC). This would require streaming platforms to showcase Canadian content more than they currently do. 

That means that platforms like Netflix would have to recommend more Canadian-made shows like Schitt’s Creek or other Canadian-made content ahead of non-Canadian content. 

This is a worry for content creators on YouTube in particular, where its algorithm curates and recommends videos based on feedback from users based on everything from how long a video is viewed to how quickly it is skipped. 

Canadian YouTuber J.J. McCullough has 782,000 subscribers to his channel. He spoke at a Parliamentary hearing earlier this month to oppose the Online Streaming Act and its introduction into Canadian law and shares his thoughts on the experience and potential impact of Bill C-11: 

The hearing was revealing. I’ve never been part of a parliamentary committee before, so I put a lot of effort into trying to come up with a powerful opening statement and people responded quite favorably to it. I took the process seriously.

I had worked in television for a few years as a TV political pundit and so I had gotten comfortable being on camera. I worked for Sun News in its final years and when it shut down in 2015, I was abruptly out of a job. That was when I started my YouTube channel and I’ve been doing it for over six years now—but only professionally for the last two or so, in terms of it being my primary source of income. 

It can be exhausting. You write the scripts, film the videos, edit them and add all the sound effects and graphics and all those things. But I like creative projects. It’s very rewarding to see the reactions that my content gets, especially from young people. As I get older, I feel like there’s a paternalistic side to me that’s coming out more and so I like to know that I’m helping and that’s very rewarding and very validating to me because that’s ultimately what I got into this business to do. 

I’m grateful to have the chance to do this full-time, but my new career now seems at-risk now with Bill C-11; it’s crushing that so much hard work and passion could now disappear because of it.

The way that YouTube works at present is that the content audiences discover is determined by a control algorithm that recommends videos based on what YouTube perceives the user to be interested in. For example, if my YouTube habit suggests that I’m interested in cooking videos, then YouTube will naturally recommend a lot of cooking videos.

We know from the text of the bill that the CRTC is going to be given a mandate to promote the ‘discoverability’ of Canadian content, specifically, and that websites under the CRTC jurisdiction, such as YouTube, will be obligated to comply with this discoverability mandate. 

What this means is that the CRTC is going to have to come up with some sort of criteria for what is good Canadian content and then YouTube is going to have to live up to its legal obligations to promote and recommend that content.

Overnight, creators are going to wake up and find the kind of content that has previously been successful in an unregulated YouTube is no longer successful in a regulated YouTube. As a result, they will either have to change the nature of content that they make in order to make it more overtly Canadian—whatever that means—or they could possibly be at a disadvantage. That could mean their viewership, and thus revenues, take a hit. That’s something that I think is quite worrying to a lot of YouTubers.

The thing that really struck me from the parliamentary hearings—and this is just a personal insight—was that when witnesses are testifying, you would think they’re the center of attention. But when you’re there in-person, almost none of the politicians seem to be listening at all. Everybody is just on their phone. It was incredibly upsetting and disrespectful. 

It felt like whistling in the wind.

— As told to Nicholas Seles

The post Why YouTubers like me oppose Bill C-11 appeared first on Macleans.ca.

Pierre Poilievre’s opponents tell the Post that a misleading email—titled “Membership status: incomplete”—panicked members into buying a second membership on Poilievre’s portal, which inflated Poilievre’s membership numbers. Poilievre’s campaign says that’s not true and the whole thing is a mixup.

Look out: In the Globe, John Ibbitson argues that Poilievre should not listen to those who will urge him to moderate his message in the hopes of broadening his appeal. He points to a slick one-take video that Poilievre filmed walking through the mess at Toronto Pearson International Airport, which Liberal spinner Scott Reid observed shows that Poilievre has loads of game, and Liberals had better start reckoning with him. Ibbitson points out that Poilievre is connecting.

Pierre Poilievre doesn’t have to pivot to be more like Doug Ford. He already is like Doug Ford in the only way that matters: his ability to empathize with the economic insecurity of voters. Talking heads obsess over Mr. Poilievre’s appeal to angry populists with crazy conspiracy theories: his promise to fire the governor of the Bank of Canada, his opposition to vaccine mandates, his criticism of the World Economic Forum. But that’s not why he has sold what appears to be a record number of Conservative Party memberships. His message taps into more than the party’s populist base. It appeals to everyone who fears the increasing unpredictability of these times and who doesn’t see their fear reflected in the words and actions of politicians.

Mandates going: Speaking of the mess at Pearson, the Liberals announced Tuesday a suspension of vaccine mandates for federal employees and for train and plane passengers as of June 20, CBC reports. Canadians entering the country from abroad will still be required to meet entry requirements and masks will remain mandatory on planes and trains. Visitors to Canada will have to be fully vaccinated to enter the country, or meet the requirements of an exemption.

Fully? The government is planning to change its definition of “fully vaccinated” to reflect the waning effectiveness of vaccines over time, Global reports.

Unimpressed: In the Toronto Sun, Brian Lilley writes that the Liberals would have got rid of mandates sooner if they had listened to Theresa Tam, but they were guided by political science, not medical science.

Inflationary measures: Chrystia Freeland will deliver what’s being flagged as a “significant” speech on inflation and affordability on Bay Street on Thursday, the Star’s Heather Scoffield writes.

The Star has learned that she’ll have a $7-billion (or so) list in hand that spells out exactly how federal programs are ramping up to help those who are particularly exposed to the harms of inflation. Old Age Security, the Canada Child Benefit, the Canada Workers Benefit, the Canada Housing Benefit — they’ve all been enriched, and they’re coming our way soon.

Unacceptable: In QP Tuesday, Justin Trudeau denounced the attendance of a Canadian official at a party at the Russian embassy as “absolutely unacceptable,” Global reports. Global Affairs Minister Melanie Joly said Sunday that she only found out that someone attended through media reports.

Last bottles exchanged: The New York Times has a breezy item on the end of the whisky war over Hans Island.

Conspiratorial: Abacus Data has a disturbing survey showing how many Canadians believe in false and outlandish conspiracy theories about COVID-19.

Resign! The CPC says Marco Mendicino should resign because of his comments about the decision to invoke the Emergencies Act, CTV reports.

Vice-regal expense: Gov. Gen. Mary Simon and 29 fellow passengers racked up a nearly $100,000 catering bill on a government aircraft during a recent week-long trip to the Middle East, the Post reports.

False tip: Police face more questions about a false bomb tip that led to the arrest of two Sikh rally organizers near Parliament Hill on Saturday, CP reports. Radio Canada reports that the French message warning about the bomb threat took eight minutes (translation).

Tim Houston is the most popular premier in Canada, according to an Angus Reid survey, and Heather Stefanson is the least.

Pause 96: Francois Legault remains popular, but not with tech companies, who asked him Tuesday to put the brakes on Bill 96, which would give immigrants only six months to learn French, CP reports. And Quebec Jewish leaders say they fear an exodus of young Jews, the Gazette reports.

Pox: Montreal is the epicentre of the North American outbreak of the Monkey Pox, Le Journal de Montréal reports, with 126 cases (translation).

New powers: Ottawa is seeking new powers over critical infrastructure to protect Canadians from cyberthreats, Global reports.

Challenging reports: Toronto police is warning its employees that “challenging” days are ahead as the force prepares for the release of race-based statistics on use of force and strip-searching, the Star reports.

Enough: Don Martin has had enough of Trudeau, he writes in a lively broadside for CTV. Trudeau is “too woke, too precious, preachy in tone, exceedingly smug, lacking in leadership, fading in celebrity, slow to act, short-sighted in vision and generally getting more irritating with every breathlessly whispered public pronouncement.”

Into Klondike: Justin Ling has something of a debunking of some of the hype around the “Klondike papers.”

— Stephen Maher

The post Poilievre under fire for misleading email appeared first on Macleans.ca.