Brant, a MTWX member, wrote this memo asking questions every taxpayer should be asking. ([Read Monday’s post)
It’s direct. It’s specific. It asks government to prove value for the money they spend.
I call it courageous.
Because right now, the easy path is clear.
Join the angry mob. Attack institutions. Promise to blow it all up.
The U.S. took that path. It’s loud. It feels good. And it’s destroying them.
Canada can choose differently. We can build real accountability infrastructure. We can prove democracy can self-correct through measurement, not strongmen.
But that takes courage.
Courage to demand arithmetic when everyone else is shouting slogans.
Courage to build systems when disruption is more exciting.
Courage to believe democracy still works.
This memo is where that courage starts. Over the next two weeks, I’ll show you why every question in it matters. Why Canada still has time to choose the hard path. And why the world needs us to succeed.
What courage actually looks like
Courage isn’t storming the capital. It’s asking your government to prove their claims with receipts.
Courage isn’t joining an angry protest movement. It’s building accountability infrastructure that forces answers whether politicians want to give them or not.
Courage isn’t choosing sides in partisan warfare. It’s demanding both sides show their work with arithmetic, not rhetoric.
Brant didn’t join a movement. He created a document. He didn’t shout. He asked questions. Specific questions. Questions government should be able to answer easily.
They can’t.
That’s harder than it sounds. Because asking these questions means accepting the answers. And the answers might prove that programs you support don’t work. That politicians you voted for can’t demonstrate value. That money you thought was helping people is actually subsidizing corporate balance sheets.
Most people don’t want those answers. They want their team to win. They want to believe their side has it figured out. They want simple explanations for complex problems.
Courage means wanting the truth more than you want to be right.
Why this moment matters
January 2026. Canada stands at a fork.
Path one: Follow the U.S. into institutional chaos. DOGE-style theater. Promises of “efficiency” that deliver disruption. Attacking government workers instead of fixing government systems. Short-term political wins. Long-term democratic collapse.
Path two: Build what neither country has. Systematic accountability infrastructure. Not promises. Not slogans. Actual mechanisms that measure performance, track outcomes, and force consequences.
The U.S. had this choice two years ago. They chose disruption. Now they’re discovering that tearing down institutions is easier than building better ones. That chaos doesn’t convert into accountability. That anger isn’t a governing strategy.
Canada still has the institutional stability to choose differently.
Barely.
Our federal government still functions. Public servants still show up. Systems still operate. Trust hasn’t completely collapsed.
But it’s eroding. Fast.
Every spending announcement without outcome measurement. Every program that continues without performance review. Every corporate subsidy without multiplier proof. Every year of bureaucracy growth without service improvement.
Canadians are frustrated. The question is: what do we do with that frustration?
Build? Or destroy?
This memo asks government to demonstrate value for taxpayer dollars. Over the next two weeks, I’ll show you why they can’t answer these questions—and what that means.
Not because every public servant is corrupt. Most aren’t.
Not because every program is wasteful. Many aren’t.
But because the feedback loops are missing. The measurement systems don’t exist. The accountability infrastructure was never built.
Government operates like a business that never checks if customers got what they paid for. Like a contractor who never measures if the building is level. Like a doctor who never follows up to see if the treatment worked.
You can run that way for a while. Decades, even.
But eventually, performance degrades. Not through malice. Through drift.
Canada has drifted. The arithmetic proves it. And arithmetic doesn’t care about your politics, your good intentions, or your excuses.
Beginning here, I’ll show you why trust is collapsing globally and what Canada can learn before it’s too late. Then Friday, I’ll show you where your tax dollars actually go and who consented to those distributions.
Why trust is collapsing globally—and what Canada can learn before it’s too late
Last week in Davos, business and political leaders gathered for the World Economic Forum. The Edelman Trust Barometer delivered grim results.
70% of people globally won’t talk to, work with, or even sit near someone who thinks differently than they do.
Researchers have a name for this: “insular mindset.”
You probably have a different name for it.
In Canada, we’re worse: 73%. We’re not watching the fire from a distance. We’re already burning.
This isn’t people getting angrier. It’s people getting more defensive. They’ve stopped trusting institutions to act in their interest. Only 16% of Canadians believe the next generation will be better off.
That’s not skepticism. That’s surrender.
Richard Edelman has measured trust for 26 years. He told business leaders at Davos: “Urgency. A sense that time is running out.”
Why brand matters in government
Scott Galloway is a marketing professor at NYU. He’s a business analyst, not a political figure.
At Davos, he described what’s changed since 1999—the last time he attended.
“The U.S. was the operating system of the world back then,” he said. “Now the American brand is chaos, corruption, and coercion.”
Why does “brand” matter in government?
Because trust is how societies function without force. When you trust government, you follow the rules. You pay your taxes. You accept losing when the other side wins.
Without trust? Every transaction needs enforcement. Every rule needs a cop. Every loss feels like theft.
That’s not a political problem. It’s an economic one.
This isn’t just rhetoric. Last week, the VIX—the market’s fear gauge—spiked to 20.09 as sentiment turned sour. Markets are pricing in the cost of institutional chaos.
Canada’s narrow window
Prime Minister Mark Carney gave a speech at Davos titled “The Power of the Less Power.” His message: the rules-based international order is fading. It’s being replaced by great power rivalry and what he called “brutal reality.”
Canada still has institutional credibility. Our systems still function. People still believe government can work.
But that credibility is fragile. And time-limited.
The U.S. is showing us what happens when trust erodes completely. Citizens stop believing their money is managed responsibly. They stop believing distributions are fair. They stop believing officials act in their interest.
Once that belief is gone, it’s extraordinarily hard to rebuild.
The connection to Brant’s memo (Read here)
When trust weakens, accountability isn’t optional. It’s the only thing that restores confidence.
Brant asked elected officials to justify distribution decisions. To show economic multipliers. To report results versus intentions.
Those aren’t radical demands. They’re minimum requirements for systems operating in a low-trust environment.
Trust doesn’t return because governments promise to do better. It returns when citizens can verify that government is doing better.
That requires measurement. Transparency. Feedback loops.
The kind of accountability infrastructure Brant’s memo demands.
The kind that currently doesn’t exist.
Friday: Where the money actually goes
Brant’s memo asks: “Whose money are we spending?”
The answer is yours.
Canada’s federal government will spend $480.5 billion this year. Only $222.9 billion requires annual Parliamentary approval. The rest flows automatically.
Friday, I’ll show you what that means for your consent. Why the Martinez family can’t verify if they’re getting value for the $12,000 they contribute annually. And where the accountability mechanism broke down.
The arithmetic starts now.
Friday, we’ll look at where Canada’s $222.9 billion in voted spending actually goes—and who consented to those distributions.