The Old Order is Dying. Try to Keep Some Perspective. And Hope.

If you're the sort of person who likes everything happening all at once, I have a great news for you.

Let’s just take a quick look at the latest world-changing events for today and… Source: Prateek Srivastava on Unsplash.

As if on cue, on Sunday, I turned 41 and promptly got sick. It wasn’t the kind of sick of past, younger birthdays. Not the self-inflicted sort. Nor was it a function of the Eagles winning or the Bills losing a heart breaker. It was a garden variety sick that came at the worst possible time: the week where it all happens — though it won’t be the last one of these.

More on that in a moment. First, I’m pleased to share that I’m launching a YouTube channel and new podcast called, you guessed it, The David Moscrop Show. You can subscribe directly, but I’ll also host the podcast here on Substack. My goal, is always, will be to go beyond the headlines without relying on the gimmicks and affectations of so much contemporary politics talk — the sort of stuff that, quite frankly, is making us ignorant, incurious, docile, and boring.

Now, to the business at hand.

In the days to come, we’ll see the launch of an early, unnecessary election in Ontario; the release of the federal foreign interference report; a probable Bank of Canada interest rate cut; more campaigning from Liberal leadership hopefuls; possible Trump tariffs; an American AI implosion in the face of competition from China; and god knows what else. Maybe annexation, the way things are going. Who knows.

The week where it all happens has me thinking about transformations, because we’re in the midst of a few. Last week, in the Toronto Star, I argued the fall of Trudeau represents a shifting domestic and global order, the decline of technocratic, quasi-progressive liberalism — at least for now — and the entrenchment of a conservatism rooted in market fundamentalism, deregulation, tax cuts, and culture war. This shift comes as Canada’s pro-immigration consensus frays and our affordability crisis lingers. It comes as the global order continues to shift, with liberal institutionalism in decline and American hegemony in retreat as Donald Trump pursues an “America first” strategy reminiscent of its early-20th century progenitor.

Trump’s return feels a bit like the return of history, a time during which any sense of normalcy or order or predictability or hope fades and in its place comes a relentless happening — one thing after the next and the next and the next. The pace and scope obliterates our capacity to process what’s going on, forcing us to retreat from the onslaught. As I argued last week, while you need to protect your sanity during this time, that doesn’t mean you must, or should, check out entirely.

That we’re living through history now seems as obvious as it is true by definition. We’re always living through history. But today, we’re living through a surfeit of it. So much history. We can now expect most weeks to be weeks where it all happens, setting a new baseline for what counts as notable.

Following the news of the latest Trump administration goings on — a row with Colombia, a heinous suggestion for clearing Gaza, more tariff threats, the confirmation of Pete Hegseth as secretary of defense, etc., etc., etc. — is dizzying on its own, then you remember other important things are happening at home and around the world.

One trick to managing an understanding of what’s happening right now is to try to take a bit of a step back and put it all in perspective. The shock of daily events coupled with your own more mundane tasks — you’ve got to go to work, do the groceries, keep the house or apartment from being reclaimed by nature — makes it hard to maintain a broader view on affairs, but it’s worth trying. It’s that step back that reminds us that so much of what’s happening isn’t normal, nor should it be normalized.

I prefer a world in which the hegemon doesn’t threaten to annex its allies (or, better yet, where there’s no hegemon in the first place). I prefer a world where neighbours aren’t snitching on one another to immigration police. I prefer a world where we recognize that climate disaster remains the core threat of our time, where we insist that workers who make the economy possible can feed themselves and their families while making rent or the mortgage. Right now, we’re moving away from these goods while our capacity to fight for them is diminished as we’re pushed and pulled in all directions at once.

I’ll repeat my advice from last week, reiterate another bit of counsel I’ve provided here, and add one more admonition: take care of yourself, have a plan, don’t overextend yourself, tune out when you must, keep perspective with an eye to the long run, and allow yourself to think the unthinkable.

In recent years many of us have started to think what was previously unthinkable or at least unwelcome in polite company. The extremes, the worst-case scenarios, the 1-in-a-million-won’t-ever-happens all of a sudden are creeping into mainstream discourse, chats over coffee or beers, or casual comments thrown out in public — what if the US does invade? — where in the past one would speak idly of the weather.

None of this is pleasant, but such is the cost of living in Interesting Times™. And there’s no going back. But, as I keep saying, in the chaos and difficulty of these moments there is an opportunity to build something better. If, indeed, everything is suddenly up for review, renegotiation, and replacement, then why not take the chance to demand an alternative that’s equal parts just, inclusive, and grounded in a shift of power from the few to the many, along with the attendant material resources that make any such realignment real? If it’s all going to happen, why shouldn’t it all happen for us?