In a majority government, an unprecedented and risky, course-altering national policy — deepening ties with Beijing while loosening ties with Washington — is considerably easier to execute.

On budget day, Ottawa’s reporters were sequestered in the traditional lock-up, combing through hundreds of pages, when Politico detonated a perfectly timed scoop: Conservative MP Chris d’Entremont was weighing a jump to Mark Carney’s Liberals. Within hours, he crossed, moving the government to within two seats of a majority — one that would guarantee Carney’s hold on power until 2029 — without Canadians casting a single ballot.

This was no ordinary budget day. By orchestrating a floor-crossing during a media lock-up, the Liberals blurred scrutiny of a historic spending plan while inching toward a de facto majority. That sequence raises deeper concerns about media–political entanglements and the democratic legitimacy of building a majority outside the polls.

Toronto Sun columnist Brian Lilley, in a deeply reported Substack post yesterday, captured months of palace intrigue. A well-sourced politics reporter with lines into Conservatives and Liberals alike, he lays out the knowns, the known unknowns, and the plausible backroom plays. Carney’s courting began right after the April 28 election that left him sitting at 169 seats, Lilley writes. For weeks, the Liberals probed for weak ribs in the Conservative caucus; and on November 4, they landed one.

“One thing is clear, the Liberals have been trying to poach a lot of Conservative MPs and doing everything they can to convince them to cross the floor,” he concluded.

Why? According to Lilley, Carney has been “governing for the most part like he has a majority, and he clearly doesn’t want to engage in the horse trading that a minority Parliament requires, so poaching MPs can solve his problem.”

The fallout was already clear to see last week. And it doesn’t look good for Canadian democracy or Canadian media, which receives significant government subsidies. Even at surface level, the press corps was visibly distracted from its first duty to citizens: scrutinizing a historically large budget packed with nation-building promises and unanswered questions about feasibility. Veteran reporters have already acknowledged this.

In another piece this weekend, Catherine Tunney, a solid CBC reporter, explained how Pierre Poilievre was undermined this way: “For the Opposition, budget week is a communications gift. It’s an easy way for the party to call out government spending,” she wrote. “For a leader who has built his brand on calling out Liberal spending, tabling a budget with a $78-billion deficit is the political equivalent of pitching a strike straight down the middle to Dodger slugger Shohei Ohtani.”

But instead, “of taking a victory lap around the bases, [Poilievre] ended the week facing questions about his leadership — after losing one MP to his rivals and another resigning from federal politics altogether.”

The messaging continued yesterday, with another CBC report amplifying the Liberals’ narrative that Conservative leaders were actively bullying MPs not to cross.

CBC had to issue a correction. After publishing d’Entremont’s account that senior Conservatives “pushed” his assistant, CBC later updated the story to clarify that Andrew Scheer and Chris Warkentin “pushed open the door,” and the aide stepped aside — a meaningful distinction.

Stepping back from the noise, there is a deeper problem.

Making honeyed promises to floor-crossers is legal in Canada’s democracy. But Canada is in a mounting trade war involving China and the United States, in an increasingly dangerous, cutthroat geopolitical environment. Already, the prime minister is pledging renewed engagement with Beijing as a strategic partner.

Doing so in a minority Parliament means facing tough accountability questions — and bruising inquiries in ethics committee hearings. In a majority government, an unprecedented and risky, course-altering national policy — deepening ties with Beijing while loosening ties with Washington — is considerably easier to execute.

And what kind of partner is Carney choosing? Yesterday, Japan lodged formal complaints after a senior Chinese diplomat took to social media and threatened to “cut [the] dirty neck” of Japan’s new leader over her stance on Taiwan. On Friday, Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi had said a Chinese attack on Taiwan could constitute “a survival-threatening situation” for Japan, potentially requiring the use of force.

“We have no choice but cut off that dirty neck that has been lunged at us without hesitation. Are you ready?” Chinese Consul General Xue Jian said in a message posted on X, which was later deleted.

This is the government Carney is rapidly sliding closer to. The same regime that jailed Canadians Michael Kovrig and Michael Spavor in the Meng Wanzhou affair — and a government that, Canadian intelligence has warned, attempts to shape media narratives in Canada.

As The Bureau reported in 2023, Canada’s own Privy Council Office warned in a January 2022 Special Report that Beijing’s United Front Work Department targets Canadian institutions.

In a section alleging Beijing “manipulates traditional media” in Canada, the report details press conferences held in January 2019 by former Toronto-area Liberal cabinet minister John McCallum, to argue that Canada’s detention of Huawei executive Meng Wanzhou was illegal. McCallum, then ambassador to China, was forced to resign after the Conservative opposition condemned his comments.

In the fallout, according to the Privy Council Office report, Canadian intelligence uncovered that several Chinese diplomats in Canada were voicing support for McCallum. One Chinese consulate official “sent information” to an unidentified Canadian media reporter indicating Chinese Canadians have favourable impressions of McCallum, the report says.

Now back to Ottawa media’s role. Why and how did Politico get the floor-crossing scoop during the budget lock-up — and then, that same evening, co-host a post-budget reception branded “Prudence & Prosecco” at the Métropolitain Brasserie, where Finance Minister François-Philippe Champagne and well-placed Liberals mingled with reporters? Every veteran reporter knows political parties try to influence the press — they’re called spin doctors for a reason. But darker forces can ride the same channels. In Brussels, for example, European security services are investigating a former Politico reporter over alleged ties to Chinese intelligence — still unproven, but a cautionary tale about the murkiness of media–political ecosystems.

Lilley also documents how coverage of another rumoured floor-crosser, Matt Jeneroux, became part of last week’s fog machine. The Toronto Star reported a private meeting between Jeneroux and Carney involving senior Liberal strategists Braden Caley and Tom Pitfield; Jeneroux issued categorical denials to senior Conservatives. “Someone is lying,” Lilley writes — and whether or not a second crossing was imminent, the destabilization served its purpose. Other names floated, such as Michael Chong, were so implausible as to raise suspicion of calculated disinformation.

“I didn’t buy Chong either, but Liberals kept pushing that narrative,” Lilley wrote. “As someone who knows Michael a bit, I simply didn’t believe it, didn’t even reach out to ask — he later called me to confirm the rumours were bogus.”

It is geopolitically notable that Michael Chong — sanctioned by Beijing and repeatedly targeted in PRC pressure campaigns, including a Chinese intelligence operation targeting Chong and his family that Justin Trudeau’s government failed to notify him about — saw his name tossed into this mess. Who benefits from saddling Chong with corrosive rumours?

It would seem that not only the Liberals benefit, but so do Carney’s new “strategic partners” in Beijing. None of this proves any newsroom has wittingly acted in bad faith, nor is there any evidence that Beijing’s shadow looms in the Liberals’ media playbook. But it does suggest how a coordinated political operation can be abetted by domestic media distraction.

Now, consider darker possibilities that could be in play. Not necessarily last week, but in any number of major events and stories shaping relations among Canada, China, and the United States.

The bipartisan NSICOP 2024 Review into allegations of Chinese election interference in Canada’s last two federal elections found that “during the period under review, the intelligence community observed states manipulating traditional media to disseminate propaganda in what otherwise appeared to be independent news publications.”

It added: “Foreign states also spread disinformation to promote their agendas and consequently challenge Canadian interests, which posed the greatest cyber-threat activity to voters during the time under review.”

The report continued: “These tactics attempt to influence public discourse and policymakers’ choices, compromise the reputations of politicians, delegitimize democracy, or exacerbate existing frictions in society.”

According to the intelligence community, “the PRC was the most capable actor in this context, interfering with Canadian media content via direct engagement with Canadian media executives and journalists.”

So what do we have here? Carney’s Liberals have a natural interest in destabilizing the Conservatives and sending Pierre Poilievre — a prosecutorial-style politician who excels at exposing his opponents’ weaknesses — into early political retirement. Arguably, they have a well-founded interest in dividing the Conservative Party itself.

But using the media to float names of opposition MPs who never intended to cross is disinformation, plain and simple. And when that name is Michael Chong — long targeted by Beijing — the stakes rise. If Carney is tilting toward a “strategic partnership” with Beijing, and if that delays the Foreign Influence Transparency Registry, as critics such as Dr. Charles Burton warn, then the tactics on display have moved from questionable to unacceptable — and risk entangling the interests of the Liberal Party of Canada with those of the Chinese Communist Party in Beijing.

From the Frontier Centre for Public Policy

By Joseph Fournier

Canada’s emissions policy rewards biofuels but punishes the people who grow our food

In the global rush to decarbonize, agriculture faces a contradictory narrative: livestock emissions are condemned as climate threats, while the same crops turned into biofuels are praised as green solutions argues senior fellow Dr. Joseph Fournier. This double standard ignores the natural carbon cycle and the fossil-fuel foundations of modern farming, penalizing food producers while rewarding biofuel makers through skewed carbon accounting and misguided policy incentives.

In the rush to decarbonize our world, agriculture finds itself caught in a bizarre contradiction.

Policymakers and environmental advocates decry methane and carbon dioxide emissions from livestock digestion, respiration and manure decay, labelling them urgent climate threats. Yet they celebrate the same corn and canola crops when diverted to ethanol and biodiesel as heroic offsets against fossil fuels.

Biofuels are good, but food is bad.

This double standard isn’t just inconsistent—it backfires. It ignores the full life cycle of the agricultural sector’s methane and carbon dioxide emissions and the historical reality that modern farming’s productivity owes its existence to hydrocarbons. It’s time to confront these hypocrisies head-on, or we risk chasing illusory credits while penalizing the very system that feeds us.

Let’s take Canada as an example.

It’s estimated that our agriculture sector emits 69 megatonnes (Mt) of carbon dioxide equivalent (CO2e) annually, or 10 per cent of national totals. Around 35 Mt comes from livestock digestion and respiration, including methane produced during digestion and carbon dioxide released through breathing. Manure composting adds another 12 Mt through methane and nitrous oxide.

Even crop residue decomposition is counted in emissions estimates.

Animal digestion and respiration, including burping and flatulence, and the composting of their waste are treated as industrial-scale pollutants.

These aren’t fossil emissions—they’re part of the natural carbon cycle, where last year’s stover or straw returns to the atmosphere after feeding soil life. Yet under United Nations Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) guidelines adopted by Canada, they’re lumped into “agricultural sources,” making farmers look like climate offenders for doing their job.

Ironically, only 21 per cent—about 14 Mt—of the sector’s emissions come from actual fossil fuel use on the farm.

This inconsistency becomes even more apparent in the case of biofuels.

Feed the corn to cows, and its digestive gases count as a planetary liability. Turn it into ethanol, and suddenly it’s an offset.

Canada’s Clean Fuel Regulations (CFR) mandate a 15 per cent CO2e intensity drop by 2030 using biofuels. In this program, biofuel producers earn offset credits per litre, which become a major part of their revenue, alongside fuel sales.

Critics argue the CFR is essentially a second carbon tax, expected to add up to 17 cents per litre at the pump by 2030, with no consumer rebate this time.

But here’s the rub: crop residue emits carbon dioxide, methane and nitrous oxide whether the grain goes to fuel or food.

Diverting crops to biofuels doesn’t erase these emissions: it just shifts the accounting, rewarding biofuel producers with credits while farmers and ranchers take the emissions hit.

These aren’t theoretical concerns: they’re baked into policy.

If ethanol and biodiesel truly offset emissions, why penalize the same crops when used to feed livestock?

And why penalize farmers for crop residue decomposition while ignoring the emissions from rotting leaves, trees and grass in nature?

This contradiction stems from flawed assumptions and bad math.

Fossil fuels are often blamed, while the agricultural sector’s natural carbon loop is treated like a threat. Policy seems more interested in pinning blame than in understanding how food systems actually work.

This disconnect isn’t new—it’s embedded in the history of agriculture.

Since the Industrial Revolution, mechanization and hydrocarbons have driven abundance. The seed drill and reaper slashed labour needs. Tractors replaced horses, boosting output and reducing the workforce.

Yields exploded with synthetic fertilizers produced from methane and other hydrocarbons.

For every farm worker replaced, a barrel of oil stepped in.

A single modern tractor holds the energy equivalent of 50 to 100 barrels of oil, powering ploughing, planting and harvesting that once relied on sweat and oxen.

We’ve traded human labour for hydrocarbons, feeding billions in the process.

Biofuel offsets claim to reduce this dependence. But by subsidizing crop diversion, they deepen it; more corn for ethanol means more diesel for tractors.

It’s a policy trap: vilify farmers to fund green incentives, all while ignoring the fact that oil props up the table we eat from.

Policymakers must scrap the double standards, adopt full-cycle biogenic accounting, and invest in truly regenerative technologies or lift the emissions burden off farmers entirely.

Dr. Joseph Fournier is a senior fellow at the Frontier Centre for Public Policy. An accomplished scientist and former energy executive, he holds graduate training in chemical physics and has written more than 100 articles on energy, environment and climate science.