Connect with us

Business

A tiny spark of hope in another soul-crushing round of CRTC hearings: Peter Menzies

Published

9 minute read

From the MacDonald Laurier Institute

By Peter Menzies

It was as if the internet — the most democratizing, weird, wonderful, frightening and important technological development in communications since the printing press — had never been invented.

Earlier this month, halfway through answering a question from the House of Commons Industry committee, Annette Verschusen abruptly removed her headphones, stood up, unplugged, and walked out.

It was shocking.

And yet, in a rascally sort of way, I admired it. Yes, yes, the former head of Home Depot Canada and the chancellor of Cape Breton University recently had to resign as chair of Sustainable Development Technology Canada and is under investigation by the Ethics Commissioner for approving hundreds of thousands of dollars in Green Fund grants to her own company, NRStor Inc. But still, who among us hasn’t fantasized about acting out in similar fashion when the blinding light of revelation strikes and it suddenly dawns on you: “WTF am I even doing here? I don’t need this shit.”

And, in your fantasy, you just get up and leave. Like Verschusen did.

I confess I once harboured a similar impulse towards the end of an arduous Canadian Radio-television and Telecommunications Commission (CRTC) hearing along the lines of the three-week-long epic that concluded Dec. 8.

Part of my despair was likely due to being tired. Everyone who appears before a CRTC panel (I was a Commissioner for a decade) deserves one’s full attention and there are thousands of pages of required reading in the weeks leading up to and in the evenings during a hearing.

Then there’s the hearing room. Seemingly designed by Dante Alighieri to sap the will to live from those condemned to work within it, the room’s about the size of an elementary school gym. There are no windows or art and the ambiance complements the soulless mid-century Soviet architectural style of Gatineau’s public buildings.

But — and I hesitate to confess this — it was the relentless rent-seeking that made my mind wander during breaks and impishly imagine what would happen if I just unplugged my laptop, got up, walked out through the crowds, got a cab straight to the airport and never came back. Because eventually, most CRTC hearings devolve into two broad categories. One is a series of presentations from large, protected and profitable companies explaining the dire consequences if they don’t get their way. The other is a seemingly endless parade of well-meaning groups begging for the large companies’ money lest their roles as cultural saviours are diminished. It’s predictably tiresome, tedious and exhausting. But the stakeholders know that commissioners come and go on a regular basis, so no cause to worry about them getting wise to the game.

I was reminded of that inappropriate thought while monitoring the final week of this most recent hearing. When I wasn’t watching, I was reading transcripts and experiencing it all in a mildly PTSDish sort of way.

This hearing was the first of three scheduled to implement the Online Streaming Act (Bill C-11) which amended the Broadcasting Act for the first time since 1991 in order to “modernize” it by — absurdly, in my view — defining the internet as broadcasting and putting it lock, stock and barrel under the authority of the CRTC, which was first formed in 1968 to make sure Anne Murray and Terry Jacks got fair play on the radio airwaves.

This first phase — in which offshore streamers such as Netflix and Disney+ made their regulatory debut — was supposed to be about three things:

  • Defining the cutoff line — $10 million, $25 million or $50 million in annual revenue — the CRTC would use to study which companies must buck up and fund Canadian content;
  • Deciding how much those companies would have to pay;
  • Determining how many different funds should get the loot and how many groups would be involved — BIPOC, Indigenous, LGBTQ2S, etc.

It wasn’t the debilitating boredom of it all that was the most difficult to overcome. Nor was it the acronym-laden banter between the panel and stakeholders that rendered the discourse incomprehensible to ordinary Canadians. And while the manner in which consumers’ interests were disregarded was beyond frustrating, that wasn’t the worst part.

The seriously soul-crushing aspect was that this hearing looked, sounded and felt exactly like CRTC broadcasting hearings have looked, sounded and felt for 30 years.

It was as if the internet — the most democratizing, weird, wonderful, frightening and important technological development in communications since the printing press — had never been invented.

It was a funereal procession of grim-faced presenters from large, often outrageously profitable domestic companies involved in providing telephone, mobile, internet, cable and broadcasting crying woe are we, declaring the industry to be in “crisis,” demanding “urgent” relief from their regulatory burdens and threatening the jobs of thousands of workers should they not get their way. They even got the ball rolling on a whole new fund for local news production lest democracy die. Because, without them, of course it will.

This was followed by a chorus line of vested interests explaining how important it is for the regulator to ensure lotsa cash flows in their direction lest the nation’s creative aesthetic dies under the jackboot of American cultural imperialism. And — OMG! — whatever happens don’t make me have to move to Hollywood. You know, like poor old Ryan Reynolds did.

There were, to be fair, bright parts when the companies and workers that have built success on the internet politely explained, with respect, that what the CRTC was talking about makes no sense in 2023. None whatsoever. Some even begged the panel of Commissioners to please “do no harm.”

Welcome as something — anything — “modern” was during what otherwise was a bad acid flashback to decades past, it was not enough to revive any sense of optimism. At least not until YouTuber J.J. McCullough — the penultimate presenter — showed up.

In words everyone can understand, he said that we are in “a time when there’s a huge thriving sort of forward‑looking modern youthful wing of the Canadian cultural economy and cultural space in the form of online content creators who are often very entrepreneurial, very self‑directed people that have started from very little and have become very successful.”

And that there is concern with “the idea that those people are perhaps in some way like a problem that now needs to be solved in order to sort of subsidize people that, you know, god bless them, are sort of clinging to perhaps a dream of success in a medium that there just isn’t market or public demand for any more.”

It offered a small flicker of hope that, somehow, the 21st century and all its possibilities might yet survive the CRTC’s smothering embrace.

Then again, as the saying goes, it’s the hope that kills you.

Peter Menzies is a senior fellow with the Macdonald-Laurier Institute, past vice-chair of the CRTC and a former newspaper publisher.

Todayville is a digital media and technology company. We profile unique stories and events in our community. Register and promote your community event for free.

Follow Author

Business

Trump’s Tariffs Have Not Caused Economy To Collapse

Published on

 

From the Daily Caller News Foundation

By Mark Simon

The APEC Summit in Korea last week marked a pivotal moment for U.S. trade policy, delivering tangible wins for American interests. Solid deals were struck with South Korea, while the U.S. and China de-escalated their long-simmering trade war—a clear positive for President Trump. In the chaotic world of Donald Trump, such normalcy disappointed the news media and foreign policy pundits, who grumbled that the event lacked the drama of a disaster.

Yet, as Trump departed Busan, a deeper transformation unfolded, largely overlooked by observers. In just two days, President Trump orchestrated the most significant shift in U.S. trade strategy since China’s 2001 entry into the World Trade Organization (WTO).

The real triumph? Widespread acceptance by Asian trading partners of U.S. tariffs as a cornerstone of a reimagined American economic model. This acceptance dismantles nearly a century of unwavering belief in low tariffs as the unassailable path to global prosperity.

Trump’s tariff approach disrupts the post-World War II global trading system, particularly the U.S.-championed free-trade orthodoxy embraced by both parties for over 50 years. By wielding tariffs effectively, Trump challenges the free-market gospel enshrined in the WTO and echoed by World Economic Forum elites and corporate-sponsored Washington think tanks like AEI and CATO, which decry tariffs as heresy.

At APEC, there was no fiery backlash—only quiet nods to moderate tariffs as fixtures in the evolving economic order. Leaders from across the Asia-Pacific assessed the tariffs’ impacts and moved forward without spectacle, signaling a pragmatic pivot toward Trump’s view of international commerce.

Historically, tariff reductions in Asia stemmed from U.S. pressure to open markets. Mercantilist instincts run deep in most Asian governments—except in freewheeling Hong Kong and Singapore. These nations, built on exports inside protected markets, grasp how tariffs can revitalize U.S. manufacturing and bolster federal revenue. Unlike America’s one-sided openness to Asian imports, Trump’s reciprocity feels like overdue fairness.

As a former free-market purist who once decried tariffs, I initially missed their nuance in Trump’s arsenal. Tariffs impose costs, but the genius lies in offsetting them strategically. Trump’s aggressive deregulation, sweeping tax reforms, and drive for rock-bottom domestic energy prices mitigate burdens and generate a net economic surge—one that Asian leaders implicitly endorsed.

 This “internal free-market trio” forms the bedrock of the new U.S. paradigm: moderate tariffs generate revenue and incentivize factory repatriation; deregulation slashes red tape; tax cuts keep capital flowing competitively; and abundant, cheap energy undercuts foreign advantages.

Together, they magnetize global investment, upending a century of free-trade dogma. Energy dominance is key. Through promotion of domestic oil, gas, and renewables, Trump has driven U.S. energy costs 30–50% below those in Europe or much of Asia. For capital-intensive sectors like steel, semiconductors, and electric vehicles, this is structural superiority, not subsidy. Layer on the 2017 Tax Cuts and Jobs Act—slashing the corporate rate to 21% and allowing immediate capital expensing—and the math tilts toward U.S. production.  Tariffs may raise import prices by 20–30%, but deregulation accelerates cost-cutting, while energy savings absorb part of the hit.

Critics claim tariffs ravaged the economy post-2018, but COVID-19, not tariffs, triggered the downturn. Trump’s initial round was a successful pilot, extended by Biden—yet without Trump’s deregulation and energy surge, the tariffs became un-offset weight. Blanket cost hikes under Biden stifled growth; Trump’s selective offsets ensure expansion.

America’s edge sharpens as rivals falter. Europe, shackled by leftist policies, environmental mandates, and the Ukraine quagmire, hemorrhages capital to the U.S. In North Asia—China, Korea, Japan, Taiwan—demographic headwinds make investments unappealing compared to North America’s burgeoning market. Aging populations and shrinking workforces amplify this disparity.

APEC underscored America as a vibrant, tariff-protected haven primed for onshoring. Amid Asia’s labor crunch, nations view the U.S. as an investment beacon, mirroring Japan’s model: a high-value exporter offloading low-end manufacturing while retaining competitiveness. Summit chatter revealed minimal tariff gripes. China voiced tepid concerns over escalations, but these seemed rhetorical—testing boundaries rather than igniting conflict.

To free-trade zealots, Trump’s heresy is demolishing sacred economic theory. Past protectionists erred by isolating tariffs without cost-lowering measures. Trump integrates them: selective duties paired with deregulation, technological leaps, and economic decentralization beyond urban centers.

In equilibrium, tariffs harvest revenue and reclaim jobs, capitalizing on America’s fiscal and regulatory advantages. Trump’s blueprint restores balance to free trade, honoring national sovereignty while exposing borderless markets’ perils. It proves moderated protectionism can ignite growth, spur innovation, and draw capital—heralding a bolder, self-reliant American century.

Mark Simon is former group director for Next Digital, parent company for Apple Daily, the leading pro-democracy newspaper in Hong Kong until it was forced to close in 2021.

Continue Reading

Brownstone Institute

Bizarre Decisions about Nicotine Pouches Lead to the Wrong Products on Shelves

Published on

From the Brownstone Institute

  Roger Bate  

A walk through a dozen convenience stores in Montgomery County, Pennsylvania, says a lot about how US nicotine policy actually works. Only about one in eight nicotine-pouch products for sale is legal. The rest are unauthorized—but they’re not all the same. Some are brightly branded, with uncertain ingredients, not approved by any Western regulator, and clearly aimed at impulse buyers. Others—like Sweden’s NOAT—are the opposite: muted, well-made, adult-oriented, and already approved for sale in Europe.

Yet in the United States, NOAT has been told to stop selling. In September 2025, the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) issued the company a warning letter for offering nicotine pouches without marketing authorization. That might make sense if the products were dangerous, but they appear to be among the safest on the market: mild flavors, low nicotine levels, and recyclable paper packaging. In Europe, regulators consider them acceptable. In America, they’re banned. The decision looks, at best, strange—and possibly arbitrary.

What the Market Shows

My October 2025 audit was straightforward. I visited twelve stores and recorded every distinct pouch product visible for sale at the counter. If the item matched one of the twenty ZYN products that the FDA authorized in January, it was counted as legal. Everything else was counted as illegal.

Two of the stores told me they had recently received FDA letters and had already removed most illegal stock. The other ten stores were still dominated by unauthorized products—more than 93 percent of what was on display. Across all twelve locations, about 12 percent of products were legal ZYN, and about 88 percent were not.

The illegal share wasn’t uniform. Many of the unauthorized products were clearly high-nicotine imports with flashy names like Loop, Velo, and Zimo. These products may be fine, but some are probably high in contaminants, and a few often with very high nicotine levels. Others were subdued, plainly meant for adult users. NOAT was a good example of that second group: simple packaging, oat-based filler, restrained flavoring, and branding that makes no effort to look “cool.” It’s the kind of product any regulator serious about harm reduction would welcome.

Enforcement Works

To the FDA’s credit, enforcement does make a difference. The two stores that received official letters quickly pulled their illegal stock. That mirrors the agency’s broader efforts this year: new import alerts to detain unauthorized tobacco products at the border (see also Import Alert 98-06), and hundreds of warning letters to retailers, importers, and distributors.

But effective enforcement can’t solve a supply problem. The list of legal nicotine-pouch products is still extremely short—only a narrow range of ZYN items. Adults who want more variety, or stores that want to meet that demand, inevitably turn to gray-market suppliers. The more limited the legal catalog, the more the illegal market thrives.

Why the NOAT Decision Appears Bizarre

The FDA’s own actions make the situation hard to explain. In January 2025, it authorized twenty ZYN products after finding that they contained far fewer harmful chemicals than cigarettes and could help adult smokers switch. That was progress. But nine months later, the FDA has approved nothing else—while sending a warning letter to NOAT, arguably the least youth-oriented pouch line in the world.

The outcome is bad for legal sellers and public health. ZYN is legal; a handful of clearly risky, high-nicotine imports continue to circulate; and a mild, adult-market brand that meets European safety and labeling rules is banned. Officially, NOAT’s problem is procedural—it lacks a marketing order. But in practical terms, the FDA is punishing the very design choices it claims to value: simplicity, low appeal to minors, and clean ingredients.

This approach also ignores the differences in actual risk. Studies consistently show that nicotine pouches have far fewer toxins than cigarettes and far less variability than many vapes. The biggest pouch concerns are uneven nicotine levels and occasional traces of tobacco-specific nitrosamines, depending on manufacturing quality. The serious contamination issues—heavy metals and inconsistent dosage—belong mostly to disposable vapes, particularly the flood of unregulated imports from China. Treating all “unauthorized” products as equally bad blurs those distinctions and undermines proportional enforcement.

My small Montgomery County survey suggests a simple formula for improvement.

First, keep enforcement targeted and focused on suppliers, not just clerks. Warning letters clearly change behavior at the store level, but the biggest impact will come from auditing distributors and importers, and stopping bad shipments before they reach retail shelves.

Second, make compliance easy. A single-page list of authorized nicotine-pouch products—currently the twenty approved ZYN items—should be posted in every store and attached to distributor invoices. Point-of-sale systems can block barcodes for anything not on the list, and retailers could affirm, once a year, that they stock only approved items.

Third, widen the legal lane. The FDA launched a pilot program in September 2025 to speed review of new pouch applications. That program should spell out exactly what evidence is needed—chemical data, toxicology, nicotine release rates, and behavioral studies—and make timely decisions. If products like NOAT meet those standards, they should be authorized quickly. Legal competition among adult-oriented brands will crowd out the sketchy imports far faster than enforcement alone.

The Bottom Line

Enforcement matters, and the data show it works—where it happens. But the legal market is too narrow to protect consumers or encourage innovation. The current regime leaves a few ZYN products as lonely legal islands in a sea of gray-market pouches that range from sensible to reckless.

The FDA’s treatment of NOAT stands out as a case study in inconsistency: a quiet, adult-focused brand approved in Europe yet effectively banned in the US, while flashier and riskier options continue to slip through. That’s not a public-health victory; it’s a missed opportunity.

If the goal is to help adult smokers move to lower-risk products while keeping youth use low, the path forward is clear: enforce smartly, make compliance easy, and give good products a fair shot. Right now, we’re doing the first part well—but failing at the second and third. It’s time to fix that.

Author

Roger Bate

Roger Bate is a Brownstone Fellow, Senior Fellow at the International Center for Law and Economics (Jan 2023-present), Board member of Africa Fighting Malaria (September 2000-present), and Fellow at the Institute of Economic Affairs (January 2000-present).

Continue Reading

Trending

X