The Things We Thought Would Matter

The Things We Thought Would Matter By Gary Payne, MBA Founder of Funeral Cost Ontario One of the things that has surprised me over the years is how often families are caught off guard by what does not matter. Most of us spend a fair amount of time deciding what is important. We save things. We protect things. We move certain possessions from one house to another because we assume they deserve to make the journey. Over time, some objects acquire a status that feels almost permanent. They become part of the family landscape, and people stop questioning their importance because their importance has simply been accepted for so long. Then something happens, and a family finds itself sorting through a house, opening cupboards, looking through closets, and deciding what stays and what goes. Before it begins, there is often a quiet assumption that certain items will be spoken for immediately. Everybody knows which pieces those are supposed to be. The dining room set. The cabinet. The collection. The things that were always treated as important. And then the family discovers that nobody really wants them. I have seen that happen more than once, and what makes it interesting is not the decision itself, but the surprise that follows. People are often caught off guard that an object which carried such a large presence in family life can suddenly have very little place in anyone's future. The object has not changed. The craftsmanship has not changed. The history has not changed, yet something has shifted. I think part of the surprise comes from the fact that families often confuse significance with attachment. They are related, but they are not the same thing. An object can be significant without anyone wanting to own it. A family can respect its history, appreciate its place in the household, and still have no practical role for it in the next chapter of their lives. That reality shows up in very ordinary ways. I have watched families spend twenty minutes discussing a valuable piece of furniture before agreeing nobody has room for it, then spend much longer talking about a box of handwritten recipe cards that nobody expected to keep. It is not always logical, but it is very human. One thing has value because everyone agreed it did. Another has value because, for reasons that are harder to explain, it still seems to carry a person with it. There is also a generational side to this that families sometimes underestimate. The objects that helped define one household may not fit easily into another. A dining room set that once made sense in a larger home may not make sense in a condo, townhouse, or smaller place already filled with someone else's life. A collection that represented years of care to one person may feel like responsibility to the next. That does not mean people value family less. It usually means they are living differently. What makes these decisions difficult is that nobody wants to be the person who says it out loud too quickly. Nobody wants to make it sound as though the thing did not matter. So families sometimes talk around the obvious for a while. They admire it. They discuss where it came from. They mention how long it was in the house. Then eventually someone says what everyone else may already be thinking: "I just don't have a place for it." That sentence can feel harsher than it is meant to be. In most cases, it is not a rejection of the person who owned it, or of the life built around it. It is simply the point where memory and practicality meet, and practicality has to be given a vote too. The longer I have watched families work through these decisions, the more I have noticed that the item everyone worried about often becomes the easiest decision in the room.

The Things Nobody Thought Were Important

Dead and Gone… The Things Nobody Thought Were Important By Gary Payne, MBA Founder of Funeral Cost Ontario One of the things I have noticed over the years is that families are not always very good at predicting what will matter later. I do not mean that as a criticism. I think most of us are probably the same when it comes to these things. We protect the things that seem obvious and valuable to us. We keep important documents together. We put certain photographs in frames to look at and have others look at. We also decide which possessions are worth insuring, saving, passing along, or placing carefully in a box where they will not be damaged. That is all reasonable, and it is also incomplete in some sense of the word. After someone dies, families often discover that importance does not always follow the path they expected. The items that were carefully preserved may still matter, of course, but they are not always the things that stop people. Sometimes it is the object that was never meant to survive or to be thought about at all. Something left in a drawer, or something tucked into a book. Maybe it is something kept for no clear reason other than the fact that nobody threw it away. We have all seen people move quickly past things that had obvious value, then pause over something almost accidental. And generally it is not because it was beautiful or rare or financially meaningful, but because it seemed to contain evidence of ordinary life. That is a different kind of value, and it is harder to explain without making it sound more sentimental than it is. Someone's house can be full of possessions and still leave a family looking for traces. That is the part I find interesting, and by no means do I think it is fair to say that most people are always looking for the most important or valuable object. Sometimes they are looking for proof of the person as they actually were, in the middle of regular life, before anyone knew there would eventually be a need to remember them so carefully. And that may be why the ordinary things can become kind of complicated. They were not curated, they were certainly not chosen for legacy, they escaped attention, which is probably why they can feel more authentic later. A formal portrait tells one kind of truth, while a marked-up calendar, an old notebook, or a tool left on a basement shelf tells another. There is also a practical side to this that families know all too well. Not everything can be kept, as most of us do not have the space, time, or emotional energy to preserve an entire household. Decisions have to be made, and many of them are fairly straightforward. Keep it, donate it, sell it, or discard it. Those words are simple until they are applied to objects that belonged to someone who is no longer there to explain why they kept them. I do not think there is a perfect way through that. Some things will be saved that later seem unimportant. While other things will be let go that someone may wonder about years afterwards. That is probably unavoidable. Families are trying to make decisions with limited space, limited time, and often very little emotional distance. What I find myself thinking about is how much of a person’s life exists outside the things we formally preserve. By this I mean routines, their habits, the unfinished projects, or the way a drawer was organized, or not organized. The things they placed on a shelf and left there. None of it was meant to become meaningful and I think that is what makes it different. Maybe that is the part worth noticing, as we all spend years deciding what matters, and then time quietly makes its own decisions for us. It does not always choose the most valuable things. And it does not always choose the things we would have expected. But sometimes it does decide to choose whatever happened to remain. When all is said and done, while standing in front of a box or a drawer or a workbench, a family realizes the object they are all looking at was never really the point. It was simply one of the few places where ordinary life was still visible.

AI Is Coming To Medicine But Will It Help?

AI Is Coming To Medicine But Will It Help? Common Sense Health – Diana Gifford-Jones This week I’m writing from Berlin, where I’m leading Canadian university leaders on a week-long study of Germany’s higher education and research ecosystem. Our North American penchant for policy by experimentation was in sharp contrast with the coordinated national strategies and infrastructure evident across the German economy. By my observation, the role of artificial intelligence (AI) in health is becoming the next national mission. Friedrich Merz, the German Chancellor, is leading the charge to unleash AI. “I will push to ease the regulatory burden in the EU on AI,” he said recently, “and, where possible, to exempt industrial AI from the current regulatory straitjacket that is too tight.” Now, before readers stop and say, “This has nothing to do with me,” think again. AI is not just about computers and robots. Increasingly, it will shape what happens when you visit your doctor, undergo a test, receive a diagnosis, or fill a prescription. And whether this becomes a blessing or another modern headache depends on our leaders setting the right course. Americans are charging ahead at full speed with AI. In the United States, giant technology companies see healthcare as the next great gold rush. Faster diagnostics. Faster data collection. Faster treatment decisions. Germany has a different attitude and people are asking questions. Who controls the data? Can patients trust computer-generated advice? Will medicine become colder and more mechanical? Will doctors eventually rely too heavily on algorithms? These are genuine concerns. Medicine is not a math problem. Patients are frightened, confused, emotional, vulnerable. They need accurate information, but they also need judgment, experience, communication, and compassion. A machine cannot look a worried patient in the eye and say, “You’re going to be alright.” At least not convincingly. But make no mistake. AI is coming to healthcare everywhere. Soon, if not already, AI will read mammograms, identify skin cancers, flag dangerous drug interactions, predict heart disease risk, and analyze blood tests. In many cases, it will catch abnormalities earlier than physicians can do. That’s the good news. The bad news is that many people are completely unprepared for this transition. Some readers still avoid online banking. Others rarely use email or electronic records. Many older people understandably distrust technology altogether. But avoiding technology is risky in itself. Patients now need “AI literacy in healthcare” to understand enough about how AI works in medicine to ask sensible questions and avoid being fooled. That matters because AI can be brilliant one moment and dangerously wrong the next. A computer program may confidently provide false information. Anyone who has experimented with AI systems knows this. So what should readers do? First, become more engaged in your own healthcare, not less. Too many people drift through the medical system. They take pills they don’t understand and undergo tests they never discuss. Second, become comfortable with digital tools. Learn how to access your medical records electronically. Learn how to verify information from reliable medical sources. Ask family members for help if necessary. Pride is a foolish reason to remain uninformed. Third, know that technology should align with common sense – not replace it. One of the smartest observations I heard in Germany came from a researcher who warned that societies risk becoming “overconfident in technological answers to human problems.” AI may improve medicine. It may reduce errors, shorten wait times, and help physicians make better decisions. But no algorithm replaces healthy living. No computer can exercise for you, stop you from smoking, overeating, drinking excessively, or refusing to manage stress. And no AI system will magically repair a piecemeal healthcare system damaged by leadership indecision or policy blunders.

Canada Needs More Confidence and Less Fear

Canada Needs More Confidence and Less Fear By Dale Jodoin Columnist Canadians already know the economy is struggling. They do not need another article telling them groceries cost more, housing costs more, and jobs are harder to find. They know. They live it every day. For months, Canadians have been telling politicians, business leaders, and experts that something feels wrong. Families have been cutting back. Young people have been searching for work. Parents and grandparents have been worrying about what kind of future the next generation will inherit. None of that is news anymore. The real question is what comes next. If you listen to enough headlines, you would think Canada is on the edge of collapse. One day it is the economy. The next day it is a war somewhere in the world. Then it is another crisis, another warning, another prediction that the sky is about to fall. Fear sells. It always has. Yet Canadians have heard these warnings before. In the 1970s, inflation was eating away at family budgets. Prices seemed to rise every time someone walked into a grocery store. Fuel costs climbed. Interest rates rose. Families worried about paying bills and keeping food on the table. Many people thought the good times were over for good. They were wrong. Canadians adapted, businesses adjusted, and eventually the economy recovered. The lesson from the 1970s is not that hard times are easy. The lesson is that hard times end. The same lesson appeared again in 2008. The financial crisis spread around the world. Businesses slowed down. Jobs disappeared. Retirement savings took a hit. People watched the news and wondered what disaster would come next. There was fear that entire economies could collapse. Yet Canada weathered the storm better than many countries. Communities carried on. Workers adapted. Businesses found ways to survive. Recovery did not happen overnight, but it happened. Looking back today, many people barely remember how frightening those months felt at the time. That should remind us that today's challenges, while serious, are not the first serious challenges Canada has faced. Many Canadians are no longer worried about getting rich. They are worried about staying afloat. That may be the biggest economic warning sign of all. When people stop dreaming about the future and start worrying only about next month's bills, confidence begins to disappear. The greatest threat to Canada may not be a recession. It may be losing confidence in ourselves. History matters because it reminds us that Canadians are builders. We built railways across a vast country. We built industries that supported generations of workers. We built communities, schools, hospitals, roads, and businesses. We did not build them by panicking. We built them by getting to work. That is one reason many Canadians are watching new energy projects closely. Whether it is pipelines, natural gas, mining, hydroelectric power, or other forms of development, many people see these projects as opportunities to create jobs, attract investment, and strengthen the economy. No project is a magic solution. They cost money and take years to complete. But growth rarely happens without investment. Canada cannot build a stronger future if it is afraid to build at all. A country that stops building eventually starts shrinking. New pipelines and energy projects may not solve every problem tomorrow, but they can help create the kind of long term growth that gives future generations more opportunities. Every major project built in Canada today becomes part of the foundation future Canadians stand on tomorrow. The same conversation applies to education. For decades, trades helped build the middle class. Carpenters, electricians, welders, mechanics, machinists, truck drivers, and countless others helped shape this country. Today, many employers say they cannot find enough skilled workers. At the same time, many young people are struggling to find stable careers. Perhaps it is time to place greater value on the skilled trades once again and remind young Canadians that success can take many different paths. Not every student needs a university degree. Canada will always need people who can build homes, repair equipment, maintain infrastructure, and keep the country running. Strong trades programs can create good jobs while helping solve labour shortages at the same time. Immigration is another issue Canadians discuss openly. Canada has always been a country built by newcomers. Generation after generation, people arrived here looking for opportunity and became part of the Canadian story. Most Canadians do not oppose immigration. What many want is a system that is fair, organized, and focused on helping newcomers succeed while maintaining the values and responsibilities that hold the country together. The conversation is not about rejecting people. It is about making sure Canada remains strong enough to welcome them successfully. What often gets lost in political arguments is that Canadians have more in common than they sometimes realize. Most people want safe communities. They want decent jobs. They want affordable homes. They want their children and grandchildren to have opportunities. Whether someone lives in Vancouver, Calgary, Winnipeg, Toronto, Oshawa, Montreal, or a small town in Atlantic Canada, those goals are remarkably similar. Patriotism should not be controversial. Being proud of Canada does not mean believing the country is perfect. No country is. It simply means recognizing what generations before us built and wanting to leave something even better behind. Canadians come from many backgrounds, faiths, cultures, and experiences, but we share a country. That shared identity matters. There are good politicians and bad politicians. There are good business leaders and bad business leaders. There are good ideas and bad ideas. No single group has all the answers. The strength of Canada has never come from a handful of powerful people. It has come from ordinary Canadians helping one another through difficult times. The economy may be slowing, but that is not the whole story. The story is also about resilience. It is about a country that has weathered difficult decades before and emerged stronger. It is about communities that continue to support one another when times are tough. Canadians should not ignore problems. They should not pretend everything is fine when it is not. But neither should they forget who they are. The generation that faced inflation recovered. The generation that faced the financial crisis recovered. The generation that endured the pandemic recovered. Canadians have a long history of proving the experts wrong when times get tough. The economy may be slowing, but Canada is not finished. Not even close. The future will not be decided by fear. It will be decided by what Canadians choose to build next. If history is any guide, betting against Canadians has rarely been a winning strategy.

Stop Fearing Rejection

Stop Fearing Rejection By Nick Kossovan At the risk of stating the obvious, if you're looking for work, you're likely fearful of rejection. I constantly see job seekers paralyzed by fear of rejection, dreading the sting of hearing "No." Rejection isn't a personal tragedy; it's an unavoidable part of job searching, just as my articles are sometimes rejected, is part of "being a writer." Viewing every job application as an emotional investment is why job seekers struggle with their job search. Let go of the dread you're harbouring and approach your job search as an activity that thrives on volume and resilience, not on emotional validation Regular readers know I emphasize mindset. To expedite your job search, adopt a "Business of One" mindset. A job seeker is essentially someone seeking an employer to buy their service(s)—their expertise and labour. An employer choosing not to buy isn't personal; it's just a business transaction that didn't close. I know firsthand that the fear of rejection is a real and exhausting emotion. However, observing those who achieved the success I wanted made it clear that rejection is something to overcome, not something to lean into. Breaking out of the paralysis caused by fear of rejection requires recognizing that rejection is part of a numbers game. Baseball's greatest hitters—Babe Ruth, Ty Cobb, Ted Williams, Tony Gwynn—failed to get a hit 70% of the time. They built their careers on failure and still made it into the Baseball Hall of Fame. Your job search requires the same resilience. Getting hired only requires one "Yes." However, you'll never hear "Yes" if you're too afraid to swing the bat. Consider the following strategies to strengthen your ability to cope with rejection. 1. Become Comfortable with Not Knowing When you submit an application or leave an interview, don't agonize over what your interviewer(s) might think of you. How people perceive you often has far more to do with them than with you. They might misinterpret your resume or mannerisms, or you might trigger an unconscious association with someone they disliked. Other people's inner thoughts are beyond your control. Obsessing over what you can't control is a massive waste of mental energy. Instead, redirect that energy to your job search. Control what you can—your preparation, skills, and execution—and let go of the rest. 2. Recognize That You Aren't the Centre of Attention We'd worry less about what others think of us if we realized how rarely they do. The idea that a hiring manager is actively dissecting your character and critiquing every flaw is a figment of your imagination. Get that sh*t out of your head. Recruiters and hiring managers are overworked. They're sorting through hundreds, if not thousands, of applications to fill open positions, not sitting around judging your worth as a person. They care about only one thing: whether you'll deliver measurable value to the bottom line. 3. Their Opinion Is Not Your Problem A two-page resume, a LinkedIn profile, or a 30-minute phone screening rarely captures a person's true competence. When a hiring manager forms an opinion of you and decides to pass, consider it their loss, not yours. Never internalize a stranger's judgment. Organizational psychologist Dr. Adam Grant notes that rejection often reflects poor organizational fit rather than a statement about your personal worth. It's a mismatch of timing and needs, not an audit of your underlying value. However (me interjecting), it never hurts to consider how you can better present your skills and qualifications so employers can easily see how you'll enhance their profitability, greatly increasing your chances of hearing "Yes." 4. Stop Trying to Blend In Many job seekers believe that becoming a corporate chameleon, smoothing their personality, using a generic resume, relying on inconsequential buzzwords during interviews, and giving scripted, robotic answers, hoping to "blend in," is an effective job search strategy. Playing it safe doesn't reduce your chances of rejection; it makes you forgettable, which is a job seeker's kiss of death. Recruiters and hiring managers, especially the good ones, value individuality. Your unique skills, experience, and personality are your competitive advantage. 5. Focus Entirely on Execution Rather than focusing on what scares you, focus on what you want to accomplish. Focus your mind entirely on finding work. Think of it this way: if you were administering life-saving CPR in a crowded public square, you wouldn't care what bystanders thought of your hair or jeans. The mission's intensity completely drowns out the noise. Treat your job search with the same mission-critical focus. 6. Run Toward the "No's." Stop running from "No's." Collect them until they mean nothing. Rejection Proof author Jia Jiang demonstrated in his "100 Days of Rejection" experiment that the best way to eliminate your fear of rejection is to actively seek it out. The moment you realize that a "No" doesn't harm you, the word loses its power over you. Make collecting rejections a daily goal. Reach out to people you'd like to connect with and apply for roles that are beyond your current abilities. Accumulating "No's" will quickly show you that "No" isn't the end of the world. You're still standing, your coffee still tastes the same, and you're able to move on. Who knows, you might even get a "Yes."

NO PARK MEANS NO PARK

NO PARK MEANS NO PARK By Joe Ingino Am I the only one who sees it? Our city is in a dangerous position. We have a downtown that is nothing short of a makeshift war zone. From the many homeless individuals, prostitutes, drug dealers, and criminal elements to the open public drug use, the situation continues to deteriorate. Businesses are closing at an alarming rate. A few token businesses that do open soon discover they are in over their heads. No parking and no walk-in traffic lead to one reality: NO BUSINESS. I have been a critical watchdog for the past 35 years, slowly watching one administration after another fail to recognize what was happening. It started during the Nancy Diamond era. Her political alliance was with the Oshawa Centre. The goal was to keep the mall as the primary place to shop while slowly draining the downtown core. Since then, one administration after another has continued to erode the quality of life downtown. From incompetent councillors to councils with no vision or understanding of the future of our downtown, the decline has been steady. Mayors have come and gone, many with no clear vision for the core beyond copycat pipe dreams that led nowhere. The combination of senior housing and student-focused developments simply failed. I ran for office to improve the downtown core. I am still operating the only successful downtown "shop local" initiative since 2018. Unfortunately, it is not enough. My plan was to tear down the Four Corners and erect a minimum 60-storey complex with ample parking for residents and visitors. I envisioned creating an indoor downtown bridge connecting all four corners to compensate for winter weather. The concept would enclose the Four Corners while still allowing traffic flow, creating a showcase destination similar to what exists on the Las Vegas Strip. We have to provide value to visitors. We have to give people a purpose and a reason to come downtown. We also need to increase pedestrian traffic. Those are all things we currently lack. The two downtown councillors do not have the life experience necessary to achieve even a fraction of what is needed. One spends more time and taxpayer dollars maliciously persecuting and prosecuting local downtown businesses, while the other lives in an arts-and-culture make-believe utopian world that simply does not exist. How can anyone justify spending $10 million on a downtown park?This same council has no understanding of marketing or promotion. They want to charge visitors for parking at Lakeview Park. Wonder why we lost Ribfest? Wonder why we lost Oshawa's annual car show at Lakeview? The "No Park, No Parking" mentality will soon become a pathetic reality. People will simply stop going to the park because they may be in violation of a bylaw and face a fine. As it stands, you cannot really picnic, bring a large family gathering, or enjoy an extended visit without worrying about restrictions. The list of things you "can't do" is long.Is this how we welcome visitors? No. This is how we turn a park into a homeless encampment. People will flock from all over to camp out, knowing the police will not arrest them and bylaw officers will never collect the fines.Now, don't get me wrong. I am pro-Oshawa. I have approached the city many times with ideas and investors, only to receive the same result.In 2026, we have the opportunity to replace two insiders: Tito-Dante Marimpietri and Jim Lee. These are two councillors who, in my opinion, have done little to improve Oshawa during their terms and are now expected to be rewarded with higher-paying positions to do more of the same. Come on. There has to be someone out there who can lead our city. Our future depends on it. We cannot afford to waste our votes on career politicians.

Canada Needs a Growth Agenda, Not a Management Strategy

Canada Needs a Growth Agenda, Not a Management Strategy by Maj (ret’d) CORNELIU, CHISU, CD, PMSC FEC, CET, P.Eng. Former Member of Parliament Pickering-Scarborough East Canada is facing a difficult economic reality. While the country has avoided the severe recessions that many feared in recent years, Canadians are increasingly feeling poorer, not richer. Housing affordability remains out of reach for many young families. Productivity growth has stagnated. Business investment has weakened. Government debt has increased. And our traditional economic advantages—abundant natural resources, access to global markets, a skilled workforce, and political stability—are not translating into the prosperity they once did. The challenge facing Canada is not merely cyclical; it is increasingly structural. The country needs more than careful economic management. It needs a national growth agenda. For decades, Canadians have been accustomed to steady improvements in living standards. Each generation expected to enjoy greater prosperity than the one before. Today, that assumption is no longer guaranteed. Real GDP per capita, one of the most important measures of economic well-being, has struggled to keep pace with population growth. Many Canadians are working harder while finding it more difficult to purchase a home, save for retirement, or support their families. At the heart of the problem lies Canada's productivity challenge. Productivity may sound like an abstract economic term, but it is ultimately the foundation of higher wages and improved living standards. A worker equipped with better tools, technology, infrastructure, and training can produce more value. When productivity rises, wages can rise without creating inflation. Unfortunately, Canada has fallen behind many of its peers in productivity growth. Business investment per worker has lagged behind that of the United States. Companies are investing less in machinery, technology, research, and innovation. Too much capital is flowing into existing real estate rather than into productive enterprises that generate long-term economic growth. This trend should concern policymakers across the political spectrum. The solution is not simply to spend more public money. Governments cannot subsidize their way to prosperity indefinitely. Instead, Canada must create conditions that encourage investment, innovation, and entrepreneurship. One obvious area for improvement is infrastructure. Major projects in Canada often take years, sometimes decades, to move from concept to construction. Whether it is a mine, port expansion, electricity transmission corridor, nuclear facility, transportation project, or housing development, approval processes have become increasingly complex and time-consuming. Environmental protection remains essential, but regulatory systems must also recognize the economic costs of delay. A project that takes fifteen years to approve may effectively be denied. Canada must find a better balance between environmental stewardship and economic development. Housing presents another major challenge. The affordability crisis is not simply a social issue; it is an economic issue. When workers cannot afford to live near employment centres, labour mobility suffers. Businesses struggle to attract talent. Young families delay important life decisions. Economic growth becomes constrained. The answer is straightforward, even if implementation is difficult: build more housing. Municipal approval processes must be streamlined. Infrastructure investments must support new development. Governments at all levels must work together to increase housing supply rather than merely managing demand. Canada must also confront once and for all its fragmented internal market. It is often easier for Canadian companies to export goods to foreign countries than to sell them across provincial borders. This reality would be almost unbelievable to outsiders. Interprovincial trade barriers increase costs, reduce competition, and limit economic opportunity. Removing these barriers should be a national priority. A country of nearly forty million people should function as a single economic market. Energy policy represents another area where Canada possesses enormous untapped potential. Canada is one of the world's leading producers of energy and critical minerals. These resources are essential not only for today's economy but also for the energy transition technologies of tomorrow. Yet Canada frequently struggles to bring projects into production. Investors face uncertainty. Regulatory processes are lengthy. Political debates often discourage long-term investment. Canada does not need to choose between environmental responsibility and economic growth. Modern technology, strong regulatory oversight, and rigorous environmental standards can support both objectives. What Canada needs is the confidence to develop its resources responsibly while ensuring that the resulting prosperity benefits all Canadians. The same principle applies to critical minerals. As countries compete to secure supplies of lithium, nickel, cobalt, copper, uranium, and rare earth elements, Canada possesses significant strategic advantages. These resources should form part of a comprehensive national economic strategy that strengthens both prosperity and national security. Education and skills development must also remain central to Canada's future. The global economy increasingly rewards innovation, scientific expertise, engineering talent, and technological capability. Canada has world-class universities and research institutions, but more must be done to connect research with commercialization and industrial development. As a professional engineer, I have long believed that nations prosper when they value science, technology, engineering, and mathematics. Technical expertise should play a greater role in politics, public policy, economic planning, and national decision-making. Canada should also recognize that economic growth and national security are increasingly interconnected. A country that cannot build infrastructure efficiently, produce critical resources, or maintain industrial capacity will find it more difficult to defend its interests in an increasingly competitive world. Economic strength remains the foundation of national strength.

Bubble Wrapped World: How Safety Culture Has Destroyed Our Sense of Adventure

Bubble Wrapped World: How Safety Culture Has Destroyed Our Sense of Adventure By Murray Lytle Are Canadians less adventurous than they once were? It’s hard to argue otherwise. Alexander Mackenzie was only 24 when the North West Company named him chief fur trader at Fort Chipewyan, in what is now Alberta. A few years later, in 1789 he traveled north along what is now known as the Mackenzie River to become the first European to reach the Arctic Ocean overland. Four years later he crossed the Rocky Mountains and was the first European to reach the Pacific Ocean, beating Americans Merriweather Lewis and William Clark by a full dozen years. In 1898, Martha Purdy arrived in Dawson City to escape a failed marriage and make her fortune in the Klondike Gold Rush. It was while climbing the notorious Chilkoot Pass that she discovered she was pregnant with her third son. She later remarried and, as Martha Black, was the second woman to be elected to Canada’s Parliament. She was also a successful entrepreneur, second woman elected to Canada’s parliament and a world-renown expert on wild flowers. Canadian history is filled with tales such as these. Explorers, soldiers, settlers and other restless souls who endured great hardships and did great things. There is a natural sense of awe that arises when retelling such lives filled with adventure. To our modern selves, they appear as fascinating aberrations, gifted men and women with unusual appetites for risky or dangerous undertakings. Their willingness to set out into the unknown strikes us today as thrilling, unnerving and more than a bit foolhardy. But while their accomplishments may be striking, they lived in more adventurous times. Today society shrinks from adventure and the unknown. Through a combination of practical circumstances, changing social standards and dramatic shifts in individual risk tolerance and government behaviour, present-day opportunities for adventure have been drastically curtailed. How can Canadians get that sense of adventurousness back? “An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered”, G.K. Chesterton once wrote. “An inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered.” There is a case to be made that adventures are simply harder to come by these days. There are no more blank spaces left on maps, and hence no places for modern-day Mackenzies to discover. The omnipresence of the Internet and GPS similarly makes it almost impossible to get truly lost anymore. And if you do, help is usually close at hand. Beyond these practical limitations, however, it seems incontestable that society today is less interested in promoting, facilitating or participating in adventurous life experiences. No one talks of running away with the circus or joining the French Foreign Legion anymore, even in jest. According to Statistics Canada, twice as many Millennials are still living at home as was the case with previous generations. And if any of these young adults do go away, it’s more than likely to be an adventure-less ‘gap year’ holiday between graduate degrees recorded in minute detail on Snapchat and Instagram. The perpetual childhood of today’s younger generations contrasts sharply with the youthful accomplishments of past eras. William Wilberforce, for example, was elected to the British Parliament at age 21 and then proved instrumental in ending the trans-Atlantic slave trade. His friend William Pitt became Prime Minister at 24, and spent his career fighting the French emperor Napoleon Bonaparte, who became a general at 24. Quite a lot can be accomplished when one starts early. Other factors that limit the availability of adventure in our post-modern era include the suffocating impact of the welfare state. When Mackenzie left his family home at 15 to become an apprentice in the fur industry, it was because he had little choice. He needed to make his way in the world as a teenager. The same urgency applied to Black when she decided to escape a failed marriage by travelling to the Yukon. With no government to hold your hand, adventure follows. Popular culture in earlier eras also did its bit as well by celebrating explorers and adventurers as celebrities in the same manner that we laud singers and athletes today. Just as adventure was once regarded as a social virtue to be admired, today society aggressively enforces the opposite expectation – that it is our duty to avoid risk at all costs. In their 2021 book The Coddling of the American Mind, social psychologist Jonathan Haidt and lawyer Greg Lukianoff take a close look at the impact of a creeping safety culture on the behaviour of younger generations. Children, the authors observed, are now deliberately shielded from any sense of risk or uncertainty. How can anyone – young boys most of all – learn about the world around them when school principals announce at the onset of every snowfall that “All snow must stay on the ground.” The ideal of adventure and resilience has been replaced by a debilitating sense of fragility and risk avoidance. So is the dream of looking over an untravelled horizon that animated people like Alexander Mackenzie or Martha Black completely dead in the 21st century? Not exactly. Adventure should properly be considered a spirit, not a place. It is driven by a powerful mixture of curiosity, necessity and an openness to experiencing new things. And it can be found wherever uncertainty reigns. Today, that might entail travelling to strange lands, meeting new people or even engaging in uncomfortable discussions about whether Alberta should remain part of Canada forever. Wherever the unknown lies, adventure can be found.

The Awkward Reality of Inheritance

Dead and Gone… The Awkward Reality of Inheritance By Gary Payne, MBA Founder of Funeral Cost Ontario One of the strangest tensions that shows up after somebody dies has almost nothing to do with the death itself. It comes later. The funeral is over, the casseroles have stopped arriving, the relatives from out of town have flown home. Things are quiet again. And then somebody mentions the will. Or the house. Or a ring nobody is sure what to do with. The room changes. Most families do not go looking for a fight. If anything, the opposite. People get careful, almost too careful. You hear things like, "I don't really care about any of it," or, "whatever everybody else thinks is fair is fine by me." A lot of the time they mean it, or at least part of it. But you can still feel the air tighten the second money enters the conversation. Money and grief just do not sit well together. Talking about finances too soon feels disrespectful, even though the paperwork does not wait. And inheritance has never really been only about money anyway. The minute things start getting decided, the old family stuff comes back. Quietly. Sometimes nobody notices it is happening. One sibling did most of the care-giving for years while another lived three provinces away. One kid got helped out financially in their twenties and everyone remembers, even if nobody says so. People keep score without meaning to. It is not always greed. Usually it is something underneath - fairness, feeling overlooked, an old hurt that was there long before anybody died. I have talked to families who couldn't believe how emotional things got over stuff that wasn't even valuable. A watch, a ring, or an old chair nobody had sat in for years. One family nearly fell apart over a recipe box. Somebody says, "no, you take it, really," and somebody else says, "no, it should stay with you," and then everybody starts choosing their words a little too carefully because nobody wants to look like the one who actually wants it. That awkwardness - more people know it than admit it. Wanting something does not make you greedy. Objects hold stories, and one person looks at an old dining room table and sees an old dining room table. Somebody else looks at it and sees thirty years of Christmas dinners. The house is its own thing. A lot of parents quietly assume one of the kids will want to keep it. Sometimes none of them do. Not because the house didn't matter, life just looks different now. Adult kids live in smaller places, different cities, different financial situations than their parents had at the same age. A three-bedroom in a town nobody lives in anymore is not always a gift. Selling the family home can feel like the right call and a small heartbreak at the same time. Both can be true. The hard part, I think, is that the paperwork moves on its own schedule and the feelings move on theirs, and the two are almost never lined up. People do not always handle that gracefully. It would be a little strange if they did. The families who come out of this okay are not always the ones who avoided every disagreement. They are the ones who figured out, somewhere along the way, that the relationships mattered more than any single decision. That sounds obvious written down. It is much harder in the room, with forty years of history sitting in there with you. I would not want my family judged on how they acted during a few of the worst weeks of their lives. People behave in ways that aren't really them during a stretch like that. Most families find their footing again eventually. The conversations just stay awkward longer than anybody expects.

Two Policing Models. Two Philosophies. Two Very Different Price Tags

Two Policing Models. Two Philosophies. Two Very Different Price Tags. Two Policing Models. Two Philosophies. Two Very Different Price Tags. There is something happening across Ontario that taxpayers need to start paying very close attention to. Policing in Ontario is no longer just about policing. It has increasingly become about massive capital infrastructure empires. Across the province, police headquarters and policing campuses are becoming larger, more architecturally elaborate, more consultant-driven, and dramatically more expensive than what many other jurisdictions across Canada and the United States are building. Meanwhile, provinces like Alberta appear to have taken a far more pragmatic and operationally focused approach. And taxpayers should be asking why. The Ontario “Police Campus” Model In Ontario, modern policing infrastructure increasingly resembles institutional corporate campuses. Large headquarters. Massive administrative wings. Architectural showcases. Integrated civic complexes. Multi-phase expansions. Endless consultant studies. New buildings replacing perfectly functional older buildings. The result? Hundreds of millions of dollars in capital costs that ultimately land on the backs of property taxpayers.In some municipalities and regions, police infrastructure has evolved far beyond what is operationally necessary and has entered the realm of prestige infrastructure. Taxpayers are told: - the buildings must be state-of-the-art, - the facilities must be consolidated, - the campuses must be future-ready, - and every department must be centralized under one roof. But few people ever ask the obvious question: Does this actually improve policing outcomes enough to justify the cost? Because operational policing and expensive real estate are not necessarily the same thing. Alberta’s More Practical Approach By contrast, Alberta has historically appeared to maintain a more practical model. Not flashy. Not over-designed. Not campus-oriented. Just functional policing infrastructure. More emphasis appears to be placed on: - operational efficiency, - practical deployment, - adaptive reuse, - phased modernization, - and maintaining functional buildings longer. In many Alberta communities, policing facilities still resemble what policing facilities were traditionally intended to be: working operational buildings. Not monuments.And importantly, Alberta’s approach often appears far closer to the American municipal model. Across much of the United States, police departments commonly continue operating from: - upgraded legacy facilities, - industrial-style buildings, - phased retrofits, - decentralized operations, - and lower-cost modernization programs. The emphasis is often: “Does the building function properly?” —not— “Does the building impress people?” That difference matters. The Cost Explosion Problem Ontario taxpayers are now living through an era where virtually every public-sector institution appears to believe it requires: - a new headquarters, - a major expansion, - a flagship campus, - or a transformational capital project. Police. Municipal administration. Libraries. Transit facilities. Public works yards. Health facilities. Everything becomes bigger. Everything becomes more expensive. Everything becomes consultant-driven. And taxpayers are expected to quietly absorb the consequences through:- higher property taxes, - increased debt, - development charges, - and long-term operating costs. The problem is not policing itself. The problem is whether Ontario has lost sight of the difference between operational necessity and capital ambition. Bigger Buildings Do Not Automatically Mean Better Policing This is the uncomfortable conversation many politicians avoid. A larger headquarters does not necessarily reduce crime. A newer building does not automatically improve response times. An architecturally impressive campus does not inherently make communities safer. Good policing is ultimately about: - leadership, - deployment, - accountability, - staffing, - training, - community trust, - and operational effectiveness. Not marble floors and oversized atriums. Taxpayers Need To Start Asking Hard Questions Before approving another massive police capital project, Ontario taxpayers should be asking: - Can existing facilities be modernized instead? - Can phased retrofits achieve the same result? - Is consolidation actually necessary? - Are administrative expansions excessive? - Is the architectural scope reasonable? - How does this compare to Alberta or U.S. jurisdictions? - Are we building for operational need—or institutional prestige?These are not anti-police questions. They are pro-taxpayer questions. And in an era of affordability crises, exploding property taxes, and infrastructure deficits, they are questions that desperately need to be asked. Because somewhere along the way, Ontario appears to have drifted from practical policing infrastructure toward institutional empire-building. And taxpayers are paying the bill.

There’s No One Medical Truth

There’s No One Medical Truth Common Sense Health – Diana Gifford-Jones Advice has a habit of changing. One decade, eggs are dangerous. The next, they’re back on the plate. Butter was once a villain. Now it’s got its place. Coffee? Bad, then good, then possibly essential – depending on which expert you ask. It leaves people wondering: if the science is so clear, why does it keep shifting? Medicine has never been one unified story. Believing that can lead you badly astray. This is an opinion column, and for over 50 years, a lot of what’s been shared has rubbed the medical establishment the wrong way. That’s because there has been little patience for hypocrisy and groupthink. If something doesn’t make sense – in medicine, politics, or anything else – you might read about it here. All things in life are shaped by human nature. Bright ideas compete. Smart people argue their cases. Institutions defend themselves. And when a belief becomes widely accepted, questioning it can be problematic. Yet history shows that today’s “settled science” often becomes tomorrow’s revision. Part of the problem is that we talk about medicine as though it were a single, consistent approach. It isn’t. Around the world, and across time, very different models of health have developed. Some focus on drugs and surgery. Others emphasize nutrition, environment, or the body’s internal balance. Even within modern Western medicine, there are competing schools of thought. And they don’t always ask the same questions or look at the same evidence. Take something as simple as vitamins. Most of us were taught vitamins are there to prevent deficiency diseases. A little vitamin C to avoid scurvy. Enough vitamin D to protect bones. Just enough to get by. But some researchers have asked a different question: what happens if the body is given not just “enough,” but far more, under careful supervision? Could higher levels change how the body functions under stress or illness? That idea makes many experts uncomfortable. Yet it reflects a broader truth about biology: the dosage matters. A cup of coffee can sharpen your mind. Ten cups will do something very different. The same principle applies throughout the body. Substances that are helpful at one level can behave in entirely different ways at another. There’s another layer to this as well. The body doesn’t operate one chemical at a time. It works as a complex network – systems interacting with systems. Nutrients, hormones, and enzymes influence each other in ways that are still not fully understood. Some approaches to medicine look at these interactions closely. Others study one factor at a time, because that’s easier to measure and test. Neither approach is inherently wrong. But they can lead to very different conclusions. And that’s the point. When experts disagree, it’s not always because one side is foolish or uninformed. Often, they are simply looking at the problem through different lenses, asking different questions, using different methods, and defining success in different ways. Unfortunately, once a particular way of thinking becomes dominant, it tends to crowd out alternatives. Medical training, research funding, and professional reputation all reinforce what is already accepted. Over time, that can make the system less open to new or unconventional ideas. The Gifford-Jones mantra has been to push back against that tendency. It means you should be cautious about believing that any one voice speaks for all of science. When you hear a confident medical claim, it’s worth asking a few simple questions. What exactly was studied? What wasn’t? Are there other experts who see it differently? And if so, why? These aren’t the questions of a cynic. They’re the habits of an informed consumer.

Middle Man

Middle Man By Wayne and Tamara I'm torn about how to handle this. My 23-year-old daughter got engaged last November. This weekend she and her fiancé visited us. Yesterday I sat down at my computer and her fiancé’s email was still open. In the sent mail I found pictures of his ex-girlfriend wearing nothing but a partially-open robe. This email is one he sent to himself in January. I’m no prude, but I think if nothing else this was stupid on his part. It would cause a major issue if she discovered it. Best case, they're pictures from years ago, and he simply wanted to keep them. Worst case, she is still sending him photos. I’m thinking of confronting him, and if he’s honest with me, then I’ll bury this. But if he lies, I will make him come clean with my daughter. I don't want to cause a problem where there isn't one, but I don't want to ignore something that may be a real issue. Leo Leo, one of the failings of honest people is they expect dishonest people to think as they do. The liar and the victim of the lie have a huge difference in perspective. If your daughter’s fiancé is actively involved with his old girlfriend, he has no reason to tell you the truth. If you talk to him, you should expect the same answer—denial—whether he is telling the truth or lying. The easy way out is to say nothing and pretend you never saw the photos. But the power to keep quiet is not something you have. It is better for your daughter to know now rather than knowing later. She is the one you have a relationship with. When you see someone breaking into your neighbor’s house and don’t tell your neighbor, who are you siding with? The thief. This young man brought consequences on himself. You will always have this in your head when you deal with him. You can’t stop your daughter from making mistakes, but you can give her the information you now possess. Talk to your daughter, alone and soon, in a calm and collected manner. Carefully tell her, “If something came of this, and I didn’t tell you, I would be kicking myself forever. I don’t have the knowledge to know what this means, but I saw something which hurt me because it may hurt you.” Then trust her to do the right thing. Wayne & Tamara Suspicions I work for a small company. Since I have been on board our very young owner has made accusations, but today was the worst. He was getting ready to leave and next to me was a check from one of our customers. It was similar in color to the ones I cut and he signs. He wasn't gone 10 minutes when I got a phone call, asking me why I signed one of our checks. I was dumbfounded then looked around and saw the customer’s check. I told him what he had seen and assured him I do not sign checks because I'm not authorized. There was great hesitation in his voice, and since then he has been rude and snappy with me. Meghan Meghan, your boss “saw” something he didn’t see. Rather than be disproven, he wants to defend himself and carry around the idea he wasn’t wrong. Perhaps he’s under stress, sensitive about his authority, or likes to bully others. Perhaps he is suspicious of others because he knows himself to be untrustworthy. Whatever the case, you have to protect yourself. Document the date and time of the phone call and details about the check involved. Explain to others what happened. In the meantime, act absolutely above board and professionally. If you think your job is in danger, act like your job is in danger and take steps to find a more welcoming workplace. Wayne & Tamara

MUNICIPAL ELECTIONS ARE COMING AND VOTERS NEED LONG MEMORIES

MUNICIPAL ELECTIONS ARE COMING AND VOTERS NEED LONG MEMORIES Ontario’s municipal elections are coming this October, and if there was ever a time for voters to wake up, pay attention, and hold politicians accountable, this is it. Municipal government impacts your life more than almost any other level of government. Property taxes. Roads. Water. Development. Infrastructure. Emergency services. Housing approvals. Garbage collection. Recreation. Your local government touches virtually every aspect of your day-to-day life. And yet municipal elections continue to have embarrassingly low voter turnout. People complain about taxes. They complain about traffic. They complain about overdevelopment, poor planning, endless delays, lack of accountability, and political insiders running the show. But then election day comes, and many either stay home or vote based on name recognition, slogans, or empty campaign promises. That has to stop. The public needs to start paying close attention not just to what candidates say during campaigns — but to what they actually do once elected. Because far too often, politicians campaign one way and govern another. In Clarington, residents have seen this firsthand. Many will remember the statements made by Mayor Adrian Foster and Councillor Willie Woo regarding the incinerator issue before election campaigns — only for positions to later shift once elected and in office. Whether one supported or opposed the project itself is almost secondary to the larger issue: public trust. When elected officials say one thing to secure votes and then proceed in a completely different direction afterward, it damages confidence in the democratic process. And once trust is broken, it is very difficult to rebuild. This election cannot simply be about personalities, signs, slogans, or social media photos. It needs to be about accountability. Voters need to ask difficult questions: Has this person been accessible to the public? Have they answered tough questions? Have they been transparent? Have they voted consistently with what they promised? Have they demonstrated integrity over time? Have they represented the people — or protected insiders and political allies? And perhaps most importantly: Do they deserve another term? Not every incumbent should be removed. Some elected officials work extraordinarily hard for their communities. Some are accessible, honest, responsive, and accountable. Those individuals deserve recognition and, where earned, reelection. But others have built careers on carefully crafted talking points, selective memory, political maneuvering, and saying whatever is necessary during campaign season. The public needs to stop rewarding that behavior. Democracy only works if voters have memories longer than campaign flyers. This October, the electorate must do three things: First — get out and vote. Second — pay close attention to who is running and what they truly represent. And third — stop re-electing politicians who have repeatedly misled the public or demonstrated questionable integrity over time. Municipal politics should not be a lifetime appointment. If elected officials lose the trust of the people, they should lose the privilege of governing them. The ballot box is the ultimate accountability mechanism. Use it.

Fun on Empty: Making Memories on a Tight Budget

Fun on Empty: Making Memories on a Tight Budget By Dale Jodoin Columnist Raising a family when money is tight can quietly break your spirit. Not all at once. It happens in small ways. You say no to dinner out. No to the movie. No to the weekend trip. No to the new restaurant everyone is talking about. After a while, you start feeling like the bad guy in your own house. Then friends talk about going away with their family, or trying some place where the menu looks like a car payment. You smile and say, “I have to work.” That sounds better than saying, “I can’t afford to take my family.” That part hurts. Nobody wants to say it out loud. But here’s the truth. A tight budget does not mean your family has to live a small life. Across Canada, more families are feeling the squeeze. People are working long hours and still going to food banks. Seniors are counting every dollar. Parents are choosing between gas and groceries. It’s not rare anymore. It’s everyday life for a lot of people. And yet, something else is happening too. People are learning how to live differently. Not louder. Not flashier. Just smarter. Take a picnic. It sounds simple. Maybe even a bit boring. But it works. Stop at a grocery store. Grab buns, some deli meat, maybe a bit of fruit. Skip the expensive drinks and mix your own. Pack it into a bag or a cooler. Bring a blanket, or whatever you have, and head out. I remember watching a dad once, sitting on a park bench, quietly counting change before walking back to his kids with a couple of drinks. The kids didn’t notice. They were too busy laughing, chasing a ball, falling over themselves in the grass. To them, it was a great day. Give it ten minutes once you’re there. The air feels different. The pressure eases. It’s not about what you spent. It’s about being present. In a place like Oshawa, there are more options than people think. Parks, open fields, trails. They’re there for everyone. You just have to use them. The same goes for sports. You don’t need a ticket to enjoy a game. Local leagues are everywhere. Baseball, soccer, cricket, and more rugby. Just show up. Stand near the fence or sit on the grass. Watch. Cheer a little. Lacrosse is another one people forget about. Fast, tough, and exciting. Many local games are open to the public. The same goes for school sports. Places like Ontario Tech University and Durham College often have games and events, especially in the summer. Bring your own food. A couple of sandwiches. Some drinks. You sit there together, and for a while, nothing else matters. Transit can open things up too. Not everyone drives, and gas adds up fast. A simple bus ride can take you somewhere new. A different park. A lake. A spot you forgot about. If there’s water nearby, even better. Bring a towel. Let the kids swim if it’s safe. Sit back and take it in. Those are the moments that stay. And don’t overlook what’s already around you. A pickup soccer game. Kids playing baseball. A cricket match in a field. You don’t need to join. Just being there can make you feel part of something again. Local newspapers and city websites are worth checking too. They list events most people skip past. Small festivals. Community days. Local gatherings. Many are free or low cost. You just have to look. Here’s something that matters more than most people realize. Kids don’t measure their childhood by how much money you spent. They measure it by time. By attention. By whether you showed up. You can spend a lot and still miss that. Or you can spend almost nothing and get it right. That doesn’t mean things are easy. They’re not. Working hard and feeling stuck is frustrating. Prices go up. Pay doesn’t always follow. It wears people down. But inside that, there’s still a way forward. For seniors, it might mean asking for a discount and not feeling bad about it. For families, it might mean choosing fast food over a sit down place because tipping just isn’t possible. For others, it might mean skipping one thing so you can enjoy something else. You start to see your city differently. Not as a place full of things you can’t afford, but as a place full of things you can still enjoy. And that changes things. Money can be short. The fridge can be thin. The bills can sit on the table like they own the place. But your kids don’t need rich parents to have good memories. They need time. They need laughter. They need a parent who still tries, even when things are hard. A sandwich in the park can matter. A bus ride to the lake can matter. Watching a free game can matter. Taking pictures on your phone can matter. Because one day, your kids may not remember what you couldn’t buy. They’ll remember that you showed up. And that is how a family finds a way to have fun on empty.

The Easiest Thing To Fix in A Struggling Healthcare System

The Easiest Thing To Fix in A Struggling Healthcare System Common Sense Health – Diana Gifford-Jones The Easiest Thing to Fix in a Struggling Healthcare System No country has it perfect. But a few give us envy. Switzerland combines universal health coverage with rapid access and strong patient choice. People are required to buy private insurance, but the system is tightly regulated, and wait times are generally far shorter than in Canada by comparison. The Netherlands is another standout. It has universal coverage, strong primary care, and insurers compete within strict public rules. It ranks high for patient satisfaction and access. Germany is praised for its social insurance model – broad coverage, quick specialist access, and a large hospital network. Singapore is admired for efficiency and outcomes. It spends far less of GDP on health care than many Western countries while maintaining excellent results, though its system relies more heavily on personal savings and individual responsibility. Among Nordic countries, Denmark is praised for integration and digital health systems, while Sweden is respected for quality but can struggle with wait times. Canada adheres to the principle of universal access. No one should go bankrupt because they got sick. But universal coverage is nothing to celebrate if you can’t see a doctor. And Canadians are frustrated by access delays, and increasingly, by service quality too. In the U.S., money talks. Those with means can get world-class care. For those without insurance, and there are many, it’s a lot harder and the statistics tell a grim story.Regardless of where in the world, or socioeconomic status, no senior citizen should wait 14 hours in emergency with a fractured wrist. No individual with chest pain should sit in a hallway because there are no beds. No one should have to wait eight months to see a specialist, only to be told they need another referral because the original one expired while waiting. We hear promises of “transformational reform” when parts of our systems breakdown. Yet patients continue to experience delay, frustration, and the sense that no one is in charge. What’s the one thing we could easily fix? That would be communication. What drives people to frustration is often not the illness itself but feeling invisible inside the system. Even when right in the middle of it. Medicine has become highly technical, but healing still begins with a person looking you in the eye and explaining what is happening. Patients want two things from a physician: competence and caring. They hoped for the first, but they remembered the second. And caring means diligent communication – in both directions, with give and take, until there is a common understanding. Hospitals measure everything – wait times, readmissions, staffing costs, infection rates. All important. But do we measure whether families are actually informed? Whether discharge instructions are understood? Whether patients know who is responsible for their care? Imagine if every emergency department had one person whose sole role was to keep patients and families informed. Not to provide treatment, but to explain delays, next steps, and realistic expectations. There is an old saying in medicine: “Cure sometimes, treat often, comfort always.” We seem to have forgotten the last part. Comfort is not a complex concept. It is clarity. It is dignity. It is the assurance that someone sees you not as a chart number, but as a human being who may be frightened and trying to make sense of what comes next. Can communication alone fix health care? Of course not. But if we are looking for the easiest place to start, it may be right there. For a lot of things in life, it might help to lay it out. “Here is what is happening, and here is what happens next.”

When Other People Start Weighing In

Dead and Gone…

By Gary Payne, MBA Founder of Funeral Cost Ontario There is a point where the circle around a family starts to widen. It doesn’t happen all at once, but over a day or two, word spreads, calls are made, messages go out, and people begin to reach in. Friends, extended family, neighbours, people who have been through something similar before. If I were gone, I would want my family to understand that this is a natural part of what follows. People care, and most are simply trying to be helpful in the only way they know how. But something else begins to happen at the same time. As more people enter the conversation, more opinions begin to surface. Suggestions are offered, sometimes gently, sometimes more directly. Someone shares what they did when they went through it. Another mentions what they think is expected. Someone else focuses on keeping things simple, while another leans toward something more traditional. None of this comes from a bad place, but when it all starts to arrive at once, it can be harder to sort through than people expect. I have seen families reach that point, even if they don’t say it out loud. The decisions are still theirs, but the space around those decisions starts to feel more crowded. It becomes less about choosing what feels right, and more about trying to reconcile everything that has been said. That can create a kind of pressure that doesn’t come from any one person, but from the accumulation of voices. It can leave people second-guessing themselves before they’ve even had a chance to think things through together. If I were gone, I would want my family to feel steady in that moment. Not closed off, not unwilling to listen, but grounded enough to recognize the difference between hearing someone out and feeling like they need to follow what’s being suggested. It’s reasonable to take in ideas. It’s reasonable to consider what others have experienced. But it’s also reasonable to step back and ask, quietly and honestly, what feels right for the people who are actually making the decisions. One of the things that makes this more complicated is that people tend to speak from their own experience. They remember what mattered to them, what felt meaningful at the time, what they wish they had done differently. Those reflections are real, and they often come from a good place, but they don’t always translate in the same way for another family. Every situation is different, and what brought comfort to one person may not carry the same meaning for someone else. I have spoken with families afterward who said this part surprised them. Not because they expected people to stay silent, but because they didn’t realize how much outside input could influence the way they were thinking. Some found themselves leaning in a direction that didn’t quite feel like their own, simply because it had been suggested more than once. It wasn’t intentional, but it was noticeable once they stepped back and reflected on it. If I were gone, I would want my family to trust themselves enough to come back to each other before making any decisions. To take a moment, even briefly, to ask what feels right between them, without the noise of other opinions layered on top. That doesn’t mean ignoring people or shutting anyone out. It simply means recognizing that the final decisions don’t belong to the wider circle. They belong to the people closest to the situation. In the end, what tends to stay with families isn’t what others thought they should do. It’s how they felt about what they chose. Whether it reflected the person they lost, and whether it felt honest to them in the moment. If I were gone, that’s what I would want for my family - not certainty, not perfection, just a sense that what they decided felt like their own. Next week, I will write about something that often becomes clearer once that space settles again: how to recognize which decisions truly matter, and which ones don’t need to carry as much weight.

Meeting Them in Their Game

Meeting Them in

Common Sense Health – Diana Gifford-Jones Video games have a reputation – and not a good one, at least among parents. For years, I kept my distance. “Brain rot” some experts say. I’ve said it myself, often and with conviction. I’ve worried as my four children have grown up, eyes glued to screens. But over the recent holiday weekend, I caved. My now adult children – gamers, all of them – convinced me to join them. When I sensed their genuine excitement at the possibility that I might finally enter their world, how could I refuse? The game was Minecraft, where players explore, build, and survive in a blocky, pixelated universe. Think digital Lego meets wilderness survival, with a dash of engineering. Before I could begin, however, there was the small matter of getting set up. This, I discovered, was no small matter. Out came an assortment of computer equipment that had been gathering dust in closets. A screen, keyboard, and headset. I was instructed to wear ear pods underneath the headset so that I could simultaneously hear a voice chat on my phone and the game’s audio through the computer. There followed a symphony of muting and unmuting on the phone, on the computer, and on the headset. I was assured not to worry. “We’ve got this,” they said. I did not. But soon enough, there I was: seated, wired, and ready. My grown children, now giggling playmates, were scattered across three different cities, with one just down the hall. Yet we were all together in the game. I could literally see their characters running circles around me. Then the real test began. “Click here, Mom.” Easy enough. Except that was merely the beginning of what felt like a neurological stress test. First, I had to grasp perspective. With the click of a button, I could switch from seeing the world through my character’s eyes to viewing my character from the outside. Then came movement. To walk, I had to use the W, S, A, and D keys with my left hand while my thumb hovered over the space bar to make me jump. My right hand controlled the mouse, which required sliding, clicking left and right, and scrolling with the middle finger. This was no walk in the park. My brain and coordination were being tested. At one point, I was tasked with making an iron pickaxe. “Simple,” they said. Except it wasn’t. First, you need to get wood for a handle. Then you must craft a furnace. Next, the mining, for coal and iron ore. Then comes the crucial insight: coal goes in the bottom of the furnace, iron ore in the top. The game requires players to use reason, but I would have been helpless without my kids telling me how to survive. There was laughter. Lots of it. Belly-bursting laughter. There we were: a family spread across distances, connected by technology, having a blast. But I was thinking about the health benefits. Mental agility, hand-eye coordination, memory, and perhaps most importantly, social connection. Most researchers don’t focus on games like Minecraft; they use cognitive-training tests that miss the elements found in the family fun I’m talking about. So they report modest improvements in attention, reaction time, and memory. But my guess is that a little bit of Minecraft among people of my generation goes a long way in boosting cognitive flexibility, spatial reasoning, and the wholesome happiness factor. Will I play again? I’m counting on it. Much as I love a good book or a quiet walk in the woods, I’m intrigued by the potential for games like Minecraft to keep me sharp as I age.

MOM - ‘WHEN I GROW UP I WANT TO BE A REFUGEE…’

MOM - ‘WHEN I GROW UP I WANT TO BE A REFUGEE...’ By Joe Ingino BA. Psychology Editor/Publisher Central Newspapers ACCOMPLISHED WRITER/AUTHOR OF OVER 800 ,000 Published Columns in Canada and The United States I have seen firsthand the economic struggles many people are facing today—from those on the brink of eviction for unpaid rent, to families losing their homes to financial institutions unwilling to grant even a short extension. Across the country, the overall quality of life appears to be declining. Concerns about crime are rising, and the number of Canadians experiencing homelessness continues to grow at an alarming rate. This week, an announcement drew attention: Pickering to host an accommodation site for asylum seekers.According to Durham Region, a former hotel in Pickering is being converted into temporary housing for asylum seekers. The federal government has provided funding for the purchase of the property; however, neither the total investment nor the projected operating costs have been publicly disclosed. The site will serve as the Durham Reception Centre.Let me be clear—I have no issue with immigration. I am an immigrant myself. I came to this country with the same goal shared by many others: to build a better life, respect the laws of the land, and contribute meaningfully to Canadian society.I recall being asked as a child what I wanted to be when I grew up. My answer never changed. I was inspired by the uniform of the RCMP and the idea of serving a country that had given my family so much. To contribute to that legacy felt like both an honour and a responsibility. Today, however, I sometimes question whether that same sense of purpose is as widely shared. Canada has long been a nation built on diversity, but it has also relied on a shared commitment to integration, mutual respect, and civic responsibility. Increasingly, there are concerns about whether that balance is being maintained. At the same time, local governments are making significant financial commitments—such as the reported $7 million allocated toward a reception centre in Durham Region. This raises difficult but important questions: how do we balance support for newcomers with the urgent needs of Canadians who are struggling to afford basic necessities like food and housing? Behind these issues are real people—our neighbours, our families, our fellow citizens. These are conversations worth having, and perspectives worth sharing.

Tailor Your Answers to the Employer’s Needs

Tailor Your Answers to the Employer’s Needs By Nick Kossovan Employers don't care about your past; they care about their future. Yet most candidates walk into an interview prepared to recite their career history (read: water under the bridge) as if it were a biopic. They then wait for questions that'll give them a chance to explain why they're the right candidate for the job. When those questions aren't asked, which is very likely, they feel they didn't adequately convey their suitability for the job. Waiting and hoping your interviewer recognizes your value isn't a viable strategy; it's a gamble with very low odds. Savvy job seekers don't just answer questions; they manage the interview. They don't see the interviewer's inexperience, vagueness, or unpreparedness as obstacles; rather, they see them as opportunities to steer the interview towards their value-add. They also understand that interviews are sales meetings, and it's their job to convince the employer that hiring them would be a good investment. Every interaction with an employer, whether through your resume, cover letter, LinkedIn profile, or especially during interviews, is your chance to show that you understand their business and how you can contribute to their profitability. Based on my experience, the majority of those who conduct hiring interviews do so as an appendage to their core responsibilities. Unless you're speaking with a full-time recruiter or HR, the person across from you is likely your future boss, who has a mountain of other responsibilities. Inevitably, there'll be times when your interview will be an interruption to your interviewer's workday, which, if it's filled with 'goings on', they'll have their head elsewhere. I've conducted many less-than-ideal interviews sandwiched between meetings, 'putting out fires,' or while dwelling on pressing matters. This lack of focus is precisely why your interviewer may not have read your resume, may not remember reading it, and may ask vague, unstructured questions. When an interview starts to feel messy, your initial reaction might be to think, "This isn't going well!" However, a messy interview is an excellent opportunity to sell yourself. Remember, an interview is a sales meeting. Don't wait for perfect questions; instead, subtly guide your interviewer. Tailor your answers to show you'd be a value-add to the employer's profitability. · Weak Question: "So… tell me about your experience." · Tailored Answer: "I've spent fifteen years in operations, but to make this most useful for you, I'll focus on the parts most relevant to this role—specifically where I've led teams through high-pressure execution challenges and reduced overhead by 20%." · Why it works: You're setting the direction. Rather than giving a long, unfocused history of your career, as most candidates do, you're presenting your skills and experience according to the job's requirements. · Weak Question: "Tell me about a challenge you faced." · Tailored Answer: "I'll use an example where a delivery was off-track, and the client was at risk. Since this role requires managing complex vendor relationships, this will show you how I navigate friction points." · Why it works: You've tailored your answer to their needs. You're not just telling a story; you're illustrating your value. · Weak Question: "What is your greatest strength?" · Tailored Answer: "My strongest skill is identifying operational bottlenecks before they hit the P&L. For Vandelay Industries, which is scaling quickly, this means I can ensure your growth doesn't outpace your infrastructure." · Why it works: You've turned a personality trait into a business asset. · Weak Question: "Where do you see yourself in five years?" · Tailored Answer: "In five years, I plan to have mastered this market segment. But more importantly, in the first six months here, I intend to have your new regional office operating at full capacity so that the five-year goals we set are starting to be visibly accomplished." · Why it works: You've brought a hypothetical future back to you, being a hire that'll offer an immediate ROI. You're also telling them you're focused on their five-year plan, not just yours. · Weak Question: "Why should we hire you instead of someone else?" · Tailored Answer: "I'm not here just to do a job. I'm here to take on your challenges. This job appealed to me because of your recent expansion into the Toronto market. I have the specific vendor contacts and local regulatory experience that would enable me to shave three months off your rollout time." · Why it works: You've moved from "I'm a hard worker," which every candidate claims to be, to "I am a strategic partner who can provide an advantage." Guiding your interviewer, if necessary, isn't about taking control or appearing boastful. Instead, it's about helping them easily recognize your value. The more specific and relevant your responses are to the value you delivered to your previous employers, the less effort your interviewer needs to assess your value. The quality of your answers (read: their influence on your interviewer) is measured not by how long you talk, but by how effectively you communicate that you can influence the employer's profitability. When your interviewer appears disengaged or seems to be struggling, don't get frustrated. Instead, do your best to provide answers that'll help them see you have the skills, experience, and drive to influence profitability.

We scrutinize Rouge Park land. Why not golf courses the size of airports?

We scrutinize Rouge Park land. Why not golf courses the size of airports? by Maj (ret’d) CORNELIU, CHISU, CD, PMSC FEC, CET, P.Eng. Former Member of Parliament Pickering-Scarborough East In the Greater Toronto Area, few debates have been as intense—or as politically charged—as the future of farmland and green space around Rouge National Urban Park. For years, governments, environmental advocates and local communities have contested every hectare. The objective is clear: protect prime agricultural land, preserve ecosystems and manage the pressures of relentless urban expansion. Now, with the federal government stepping away from the long-proposed Pickering airport on lands held for decades by Transport Canada, the debate has entered a new phase. Thousands of acres of publicly owned farmland—adjacent to Rouge Park—are once again open to policy decisions. What should be done with them? It is an important question. But it is also an incomplete one. Because while we scrutinize every acre of public land in Rouge and Pickering, we continue to ignore a far larger reality—one that sits in plain sight across Durham Region and the eastern GTA. Golf courses. The land we choose not to see In Durham Region alone, golf courses occupy an estimated eight to 10 square kilometres of land. That is not a marginal figure. It is comparable to the footprint of Vancouver International Airport and not insignificant relative to Calgary International Airport or Edmonton International Airport. If a proposal were brought forward today to build an airport of that size on prime land in the GTA, it would trigger years of environmental assessments, legal challenges and public consultations. Yet that same scale of land already exists—distributed across golf courses—and it is almost entirely absent from serious policy discussion. This is not an oversight. It is a contradiction. A double standard The case for protecting Rouge Park and the Pickering lands rests on the value of Class 1 farmland—some of the most productive soil in Canada. This is a compelling argument. Food security, climate resilience and long-term economic sustainability depend on preserving such land. However, many golf courses sit on the same class of land. They are often former farms, converted over time into low-density recreational spaces serving a relatively small portion of the population. They occupy large, contiguous tracts—exactly the kind of land policymakers now argue is too valuable to lose. Yet, unlike farmland, golf courses are rarely subjected to the same scrutiny or policy pressure. If the principle is that prime land must be protected for the public good, it cannot be applied selectively. The Pickering paradox The cancellation of the Pickering airport proposal has created a rare opportunity. For decades, these federally owned lands were effectively frozen, reserved for infrastructure that never came. Now, they can be reimagined. Some argue they should remain entirely agricultural. Others propose integrating them into Rouge Park. Still others see an opportunity for carefully planned development to address the region’s housing shortage. All of these positions are valid. However, they also reveal a deeper inconsistency. We are prepared to debate publicly owned farmland hectare by hectare, while ignoring privately held land of comparable scale that could offer greater flexibility. It is as if one category of land is considered strategic, while another is simply beyond discussion. Housing and hard choices The GTA’s housing shortage is no longer theoretical. Governments are under pressure to increase supply, accelerate approvals and identify land for development. At the same time, there is strong resistance—rightly so—to building on protected farmland or environmentally sensitive areas. This is where the silence around golf courses becomes consequential. These lands are: · already cleared and serviced · often located near existing infrastructure · large enough to support meaningful development Even partial repurposing—10 to 20 per cent of golf course land—could support tens of thousands of housing units across the region, while preserving recreational use. This is not about eliminating golf. It is about acknowledging that land use must evolve. Why the silence persists The answer is straightforward. Golf courses are politically comfortable. They are established, familiar and rarely controversial. They do not generate the same level of opposition as new development or infrastructure projects. In short, they are easy to ignore. However, good policy is not about avoiding difficult conversations. It is about confronting them—especially when they involve trade-offs of this magnitude. A question of fairness Public lands like Rouge Park and the Pickering lands are subject to intense scrutiny because they are meant to serve the broader public interest. Their use must be justified in terms of environmental value, agricultural productivity or public access.Golf courses, by contrast, are typically: · privately owned or membership-based · accessible to a limited segment of the population · maintained with significant resource inputs This is not an argument against golf. It is an argument for consistency. If one category of land must justify its use in terms of public benefit, then all categories should be held to a comparable standard. Time for a coherent strategy The real issue is not golf courses—or even the Pickering lands.It is the absence of a coherent, region-wide land-use strategy. What we have instead is fragmentation: · intense scrutiny of public land · relative silence on large private land uses · reactive decisions driven by pressure rather than planning A serious strategy would apply consistent criteria across all land uses, evaluate them based on long-term public benefit and explore multi-use models that integrate recreation, housing and green space. The broader test The debate over Rouge Park and the Pickering lands is necessary. However, its credibility depends on its scope. If we are willing to scrutinize public farmland hectare by hectare, we must also be willing to examine other large-scale land uses with equal rigour. Because in a region where land is finite and growth is inevitable, what we choose not to debate matters just as much as what we do. And silence, in this case, is not neutrality. It is a policy choice.