The Canadian Image vs. Reality
Canada often positions itself as the progressive antidote to American chaos. In the Trump era especially, it became fashionable for Canadians—and the media at large—to point across the border and say, “We’re not like them.” Open. Inclusive. Peaceful.
But beneath the politeness and pride lies a deeply unsettling contradiction: Canada may not tolerate guns, but it also doesn’t tolerate using force—even in defense of your own life. The only clear exception? When the person being shot is Indigenous.
—
Where Self-Defense Becomes a Crime
I personally know someone who went to prison for defending themselves in their own home. The details aren’t up for debate—they were attacked, responded proportionally, and still faced years behind bars. In much of the U.S., that would be an open-and-shut case of justified self-defense.
But in Canada, defending yourself with force—even if you’re unarmed or acting in your own house—can often land you in jail. The expectation here is deference: call the police, wait for help, and above all, avoid violence at any cost. Even when your life is on the line.
—
But There’s an Exception—And It’s Racial
This all sounds very principled until you see how inconsistently it’s applied.
A farmer in Saskatchewan once shot and killed a Cree teenager who was allegedly breaking into his truck. The case made national headlines—and he was acquitted. Many Canadians were outraged. Indigenous communities saw it for what it was: another example of the justice system’s leniency when violence is used against Native youth.
That’s the exception I’m talking about. If you use violence to defend yourself against anyone else, you’re likely facing charges. But if the victim is Indigenous? The courts have a long history of leniency.
This isn’t isolated. It’s part of a pattern—one deeply rooted in the ongoing colonial mindset that views Indigenous people as threats rather than citizens.
—
The Myth of Canadian Moral Superiority
Canadians like to believe they live in a society that values freedom. But if you strip away the aesthetics, what you’re left with is a country that reserves the right to violence for the state—and punishes individuals who dare to protect themselves.
Even worse, the system applies these standards selectively. It’s not just about being non-violent—it’s about who you are, and who you’re up against.
This is one of the main reasons I remain a U.S. citizen. Say what you will about America—and there’s plenty to criticize—but the right to defend your life, your family, and your property is more than just a privilege. It’s a protected principle.
—
A Disturbing Trend, Not a Fluke
What happened to my friend wasn’t an aberration. It’s part of a wider legal and cultural trend in Canada—a trend that prioritizes public order over personal safety, and civility over individual rights.
But when you see that those rules are bent or ignored in racially charged situations—especially when Indigenous lives are at stake—it’s impossible to ignore the deeper rot.
Canada may not have America’s gun culture, but that doesn’t mean it’s free of violence. It simply hides it behind bureaucracy, case law, and polite conversation.
—
Conclusion: The Illusion of Peace
Canada likes to wear a halo. But when a country criminalizes self-defense for most, and subtly endorses it for a few, it’s not justice—it’s hypocrisy.
Until Canada reconciles its self-image with the reality of its legal system, it cannot claim to be a bastion of freedom. Because freedom without the right to defend it is no freedom at all.