This past Monday, Travis Dhanraj, the host of CBC’s Canada Tonight,
when he circulated an all-staff email across the CBC accusing the broadcaster of “performative diversity, tokenism, and a system designed to elevate certain voices and diminish others.”
I knew exactly what he meant — because I had been one of those voices.
In early 2024, I received an unexpected call from Travis. He was putting together a panel debate for Canada Tonight and wanted to know if I’d be willing to participate. He had gotten my number from Toronto radio host — and mutual friend —
who had suggested my name when Travis asked for right-leaning voices that might bring ideological diversity to his primetime segment.
In truth, I am hardly conservative. I occupy an increasingly wide gap between the ideological left and right — right-leaning only in contrast to today’s progressive orthodoxy. But as a transgender Canadian critical of “woke” progressive politics, I represented a viewpoint that ran counter to the prevailing current of CBC’s programming. In the eyes of many within the institution, that alone made me a conservative.
Travis laid out his vision for what he called the “intersection panel.” He sought a segment highlighting the range of voices and perspectives held by Canadians, informative, unfiltered and honest. His aim was clear: to break free of the groupthink that has come to define much of the CBC’s coverage, and to reintroduce the kind of spirited, diverse debate that reflects what Canadians are actually talking about.
I was on board. Excited, even. But there was one hurdle: Travis didn’t have production approval to bring me on air.
My transgender credentials checked the requisite diversity box, but my hot-take on the news of the hour — that a parent should be informed of
their child’s decision to transition
at school — posed a problem. CBC has immovable boundaries around which perspectives are deemed acceptable, and Travis was candid that mine wasn’t one of them. There was already internal resistance about the prospects of having me — a transgender woman with the “wrong” perspective — on a CBC broadcast.
Translation: CBC was interested in the optics of diversity, but not the substance. They wanted the visual representation I offered but not the messy perspectives I might actually bring.
To his credit, Travis didn’t flinch. He pushed ahead, and a few days later I was screened with his producer. The questions I was asked in pre-interview were safe, rehearsed and carefully vetted, as if designed to test whether I could be trusted to stay within the lines. I passed, and was booked to join that evening’s live broadcast.
Travis has an incredible knack for showmanship and an instinct to bring abraded energy to an interview. The moment we went live, he dropped the scripted questions and
pressing thoughtfully into the nuances of children swapping names and pronouns without their parent’s knowledge. I suspect Travis knew he’d get the most fresh and authentic responses from me if he kept me on my toes. He got what he was looking for.
What Travis showcased that evening was unsparingly rare on CBC: a candid, unscripted conversation about identity politics that dared to challenge progressive orthodoxy. His questions were sharp, off-the-cuff, and unflinching and I responded in-kind, defending a
by nearly 78 per cent of Canadians — that when a young person socially transitions, involving parents isn’t just reasonable, it’s responsible and reassuring. To my knowledge, this remains a rare instance in which a dissenting view on transgender issues has been aired — let alone explored — on CBC primetime. Fittingly, it came from a transgender voice.
The dialogue struck a chord with the audience. By the next day, CBC had clipped and promoted the debate as a featured article across its digital platform. The reach was substantial. For weeks afterward, I was identified by strangers at shopping centres and gas stations (One perk of being transgender in media: memorable notoriety).
I was invited to join the roster as a recurring panelist on Canada Tonight.
But inside the show’s production, the cracks were already forming. Travis’ willingness to engage a broader spectrum of viewpoints had not gone unnoticed by his superiors — and not in a good way. Comments in passing from Travis and his team revealed a not-yet public tension brewing between Travis and CBC leadership. The question wasn’t whether Canada Tonight could reflect a divided county — it was whether the CBC was willing to let it.
Perhaps CBC brass had internal data that suggested Travis’ approach was dragging down ratings and viewership. If that was true, it wouldn’t be all that surprising. After all, the CBC’s monolithic editorial stance has spent years alienating much of its potential audience — the very Canadians who might have welcomed the diversity of thought Travis finally introduced to their primetime lineup.
During my months contributing to Canada Tonight, I saw up close the seriousness, curiosity, and care Travis and his team brought to every segment. One of my favourite preparation rituals was sparring — good naturedly — with the show’s makeup artist as a form of pre-tape rehearsal before going on air. The whole production carried a spirit of thoughtful engagement.
That spirit, it seems, has now been extinguished.
In an age where media increasingly cedes ground to unfiltered, uncredentialed influencers, our public broadcaster should be leaning into rigorous, inclusive debate, not retreating from it. Travis Dhanraj tried to bring CBC a little closer to that ideal. And for a brief, hopeful moment, it worked.
National Post
