Tell everyone. There is no Charter right for a biological male to compete against females in women’s sports. Nor is there a constitutional right for children to be maimed and rendered sterile in service to self-proclaimed identities. And there is certainly no excuse for a government in Ottawa to interfere with provinces’ ability to defend women and girls from the fallout of sexual fetishism dressed in federalist drags.

Yet here we are.

Albertans are being invited to ask an important question. When rights collide, should we trust the flawed judgment of elected officials who face the people every few years, or surrender that authority to similarly flawed judges selected in near secrecy, immune to removal, and uninterested in the lived realities of the citizens they affect?

Section 33 of the Charter—the “notwithstanding clause”—exists for precisely this purpose. It was never a loophole. It was a constitutional safeguard demanded by Premiers like Alberta’s Peter Lougheed and Saskatchewan’s Allan Blakeney. It was their condition for agreeing to the Trudeau Charter in 1982, a shield for legislatures to retain sovereignty in cases where Ottawa-appointed, unelected courts would push too far into political life. It was a tool to defend provincial uniqueness against Ottawa’s homogenizing power.

Blakeney explained it plainly. Where judicial rulings lead to outcomes that might cause undue harm, for example, legislatures must retain the right to legislate, even if a court believes a Charter right has been breached. It was an elegant way to deal with the inevitable tension between rights adjudicated by judges and those protected by governments chosen by the people. It was a way to guarantee democracy over legal technocracy. The hysterical NDP machine will have people believe it is also the legislation of cruelty.

Section 33 is a temporary mechanism—suitable for five years, renewable only through re-legislation. Whatever the progressives say, it does not override or erase any rights. It cannot be used in secret, and any government that invokes it must defend its choice publicly. That is democratic accountability. The people can debate it (and we now where the contemporary left stands on debating), throw the government out, or demand that the law be changed, if they so choose.

This safeguard is now essential. Alberta is acting to protect the integrity of women’s sports and spaces. Who would be against protecting their daughters? Girls have lost competitions, lost scholarships, and in some cases been physically injured competing against males who claim to be female. These are not hypotheticals. They are real, measurable harms—harms progressive politicians and the courts are at times unwilling to recognize. Alberta’s proposed protections have drawn fierce opposition from progressive ideological activists and their allies in the press and the federal parliament, who now claim that such laws are contrary to the Charter. They seek to keep imposing without open debate the fiction that there is a Charter right for a biological male to compete against females in women’s sports.

There is no such right, and it doesn’t exist in the Charter. The Charter was not drafted to validate identity fantasies. It was not written to erase biological sex or enshrine the right of middle-aged men to force immigrant women to handle their genitals. It was not intended to give minors access to irreversible surgeries without the knowledge or consent of their parents. These things are being “read into” the Charter by tribunals and activist judges trained in Laurentian law schools with no democratic mandate, often under pressure from a woke federal government happy to let the courts advance policies it wants but is afraid to pass through Parliament.

Naheed Nenshi has made it clear where he stands. He bluntly opposes the use of Section 33 to protect Alberta women and girls. His allegiance is to the same cultural current that waddles through Ottawa. He speaks the language of progress but misses the point entirely. This isn’t about political posturing. It is about protecting girls and women from being injured, marginalized, and erased to satisfy the ideological demands of his political base.

It is about affirming the constitutional prerogative of Alberta’s legislature to protect its jurisdictional sphere. This is about facing anti-scientific postures with courage and preserving truth: men aren’t women, no matter how much ideological poultry progressive voodoo priests sacrifice to affirm it.

Ottawa’s interest in neutering Section 33 is not born of a deep commitment to human rights. It is a power play. The Trudeau-era delusional policies and its Carney-extended government see in Section 33 an obstacle to the court-driven social revolution it has vigorously encouraged. It wants provinces disarmed. Not through constitutional amendment, which would require tough negotiating, broad agreement and transparency, but through attrition—by shaming any use of the clause and suggesting that invoking it is inherently illegitimate. But that federal poodle won’t hunt in Alberta.

Ottawa already has the power to disallow provincial legislation outright under Section 90 of the BNA Act, 1867. That power—known as disallowance—allows the federal cabinet to kill any provincial law within a year of its passage. It has not been used since 1943, not because it is illegal, but because it is politically toxic. If Ottawa were to disallow an Alberta or Saskatchewan law protecting girls’ sports or parental rights, the backlash would be immediate and overwhelming. Progressives prefer pushing their ideological agendas in the dark, through political smoke curtains, behind close doors.

The federal government would rather pretend it lacks power while trying to strip away the strongest tool provinces have to protect their constitutional space. Section 33 is a scalpel compared to Ottawa’s sledgehammer, but it is a scalpel that Ottawa doesn’t want the provinces to use because it limits the power of the judges they appoint.

And let us not pretend this kind of judicial overreach is limited to social policy. Just a few years ago, the Supreme Court had the opportunity to strike down Canada’s tangle of interprovincial trade barriers in the Comeau case (2018). The question was straightforward: does Section 121 of the Constitution, which says goods “shall be admitted free” between provinces, actually mean what it says?

The Court answered no. It chose legal technicalities over the clear, economic intent of the BNA Act. In doing so, it upheld a regime of trade barriers that make Canada’s internal economy more balkanized. Donald Trump’s tariffs have nothing on the now court-preserved domestic trade barriers.

While the courts did not impose the regime of inter provincial blockages, it was the last to endorse it, weakening the country. Canadians cannot freely ship beer or wine across provincial lines. Businesses face duplicated regulations and supply chains carved up by provincial restrictions. The result is a sluggish, over-regulated economy that punishes ordinary citizens while rewarding monopolies and gatekeepers.

The Comeau decision was a betrayal of Confederation. It was also a reminder of the deeper problem: judges, however skilled, are not elected. That doesn’t make them bad people, but they are not accountable. The current Chief Justice, who condemned the truckers’ protest knowing legal cases would be coming active challenging the COVID lockdowns, openly advocated for stronger federal power. He is not neutral. And even if he were, he remains unaccountable to the people of Alberta. His political judgment carries no democratic legitimacy, yet it shapes the rules under which we are expected to live.

This is why Section 33 must be preserved—and used. But whether or not it is used legitimately in Alberta, it is for Albertans to determine. Not Ottawa. The threat isn’t coming from Alberta’s legislature—it’s coming from courts and bureaucrats choosing to advance male fetish desire as sacred while erasing female safety.

Premier Danielle Smith understands this. So does Premier Scott Moe. That is not judicial defiance. That is democratic responsibility. When Ottawa and the NDP opposition in both provinces seek to override parental rights, deny biology, and impose ideology on children, women, and families, it is the perfect time for legislatures to act. And if not legislatures, then who?

Albertans should not have to ask permission from Ottawa to protect their daughters. They should not have to wait years for a judge’s approval to define women’s places and spaces. They should not be ruled by edicts from individuals who have never faced a voter in their lives.

Section 33 is a lawful democratic instrument. It exists to ensure that provinces do not lose control over essential provincial matters. Alberta is using it for precisely the reason it was designed—to uphold the will of its people in the face of potential judicial activism that favours anti-scientific ideology above reality.

No permission is required. Alberta will protect its daughters.

In 2017, Brookfield, the investment giant that would later launch Prime Minister Mark Carney’s global business and political reach, bought control of Teekay Offshore Partners — a shipping deal that now casts a long geopolitical shadow.

On the surface, it looked like just another Brookfield deal. But behind it lies a complicated backstory, one that deepens concerns about the global-security risks lurking beneath Carney’s sprawling portfolio of more than 550 corporate holdings.

Teekay Offshore was part of the wider Teekay corporate family, which also included Teekay LNG Partners. That LNG arm entered a major joint venture with China LNG Shipping (CLNG), a subsidiary of COSCO, the Chinese state-owned shipping giant. Together, they financed and operated six ice-breaking carriers built to transport Russian natural gas from the Arctic Yamal LNG project.

The timing could hardly have been more sensitive. The Teekay-COSCO venture was launched in 2014 — the same year Russia seized Crimea and the West hit Moscow with sanctions. Five years later, in 2019, the U.S. government sanctioned a COSCO affiliate for carrying Iranian oil, which briefly caused Teekay’s joint venture with COSCO’s China LNG Shipping on the Arctic Yamal project to be treated as a “Blocked Person” under American rules.

The sanction was lifted after COSCO restructured its ownership.

Brookfield never owned Teekay LNG; its stake was in the Teekay Offshore arm, a separate division of the Teekay corporate family. But the two companies shared the Teekay brand, and as long as Brookfield remained tied to that structure, it was positioned uncomfortably close to a Sino-Russian natural gas venture that Washington had already flagged as risky.

COSCO – or China Ocean Shipping Company, a state-owned maritime giant – is a story in itself.

It has repeatedly faced U.S. scrutiny over its potential role in illicit and sensitive activities. In 1996, U.S. Customs agents seized 2,000 disassembled Chinese assault rifles hidden in containers on a COSCO ship at the Port of Oakland, allegedly bound for Mexican drug cartels. While official blame fell on Poly Technologies Inc. — a Chinese arms exporter — and the smuggling network behind the shipment, the incident heightened concerns about COSCO’s links to Beijing’s military and underground proliferation networks.

Other troubling episodes include a 1993 incident involving a COSCO vessel suspected of carrying chemical-weapons precursors to Iran, a 2015 seizure of explosives on a COSCO ship in Colombia headed for Cuba, and the 2019 U.S. sanctions on COSCO subsidiaries for violating Iran oil embargoes.

The Bureau has also reported on Canadian concerns. In December 1999, former Crown prosecutor Scott Newark wrote to an Ottawa intelligence review panel, noting that Canadian intelligence officials had long scrutinized COSCO’s activities at Vancouver’s port, citing alleged ties to both Chinese Triads and the People’s Liberation Army.

As Carney steps back into Parliament today, he is likely to face scathing questions from the Opposition not only about his Brookfield holdings and potential conflicts tied to deals like Teekay, but also over his government’s billion-dollar loan to BC Ferries for vessels built at a Chinese state-owned shipyard linked to Beijing’s civil-military fusion strategy.

This is where Carney himself enters the Brookfield story. After stepping down from the Bank of England in 2020, he joined Brookfield as Vice Chair and Head of ESG and Impact Investing. He later became Chair of Brookfield Asset Management. That means while Brookfield was still closely tied to Teekay Offshore, Carney was one of the most senior figures shaping Brookfield’s strategy — and holding significant personal stakes in its success.

Today, Brookfield has no exposure through Teekay. Teekay Offshore has since been renamed Altera Infrastructure and separated from its parent. In other words: while Brookfield has avoided direct legal risk, the reputational and geopolitical iceberg remains just beneath the waterline. Fresh controversy now looms in the case of the BC Ferries deal, in which the federal government, through the Canada Infrastructure Bank, which is overseen by Housing Minister and former Vancouver mayor Gregor Robertson, has provided a $1 billion low-interest loan to help BC Ferries purchase four hybrid vessels built by CMI Weihai, a Chinese state-owned shipyard. Opposition MPs say the loan contradicts Carney’s “Buy Canada” rhetoric and risks strengthening a PRC enterprise under civil-military fusion policy, at a moment when Beijing is openly threatening to invade Taiwan — with vessels constructed by state-owned shipbuilders such as CMI Weihai potentially part of that buildup.

As The Bureau has reported, an Ottawa democracy watchdog has already warned that Prime Minister Carney’s sprawling private investments — including substantial holdings in Brookfield as well as shares in more than 550 other companies — create a disabling conflict of interest that cannot be solved by his so-called “ethics screen,” ultimately undermining Ottawa’s credibility and weakening Carney’s capacity to confront hostile regimes, including China.

“PM Carney’s so-called ‘blind’ trust isn’t blind at all,” Democracy Watch stated this summer. “He knows exactly what he put in, he chose his own trustee, can instruct them not to sell, and can receive updates at any time. On top of that, he owns stock options in Brookfield that he can’t sell for years, guaranteeing he stays tethered to these corporate interests.”

These warnings echo The Bureau’s March 2025 pre-election investigation, which outlined in granular detail Carney’s deep entanglements with Brookfield and China. The Bureau revealed that Brookfield, the $900 billion investment giant Carney joined in 2020, held over $3 billion in politically sensitive assets connected to Chinese state-linked real estate and energy conglomerates, as well as a significant offshore banking footprint. One of its headline deals — a $750 million stake in a Shanghai commercial property project dating back to 2013 — was tied to a Hong Kong tycoon with official links to the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference, a central “united front” body identified by the CIA as a tool of Beijing’s overseas influence operations.