Davos on Lake Ontario – Why Canadians need to be worried about the upcoming Canada Investment Summit

The Canada Investment Summit is not a neutral economic event. It is one that risks accelerating privatization of Canadian public assets, weakening labour protections, and entrenching corporate power.

By Fareed Khan

A version of this article is available on Substack.

On Monday the Canada Investment Summit is scheduled to take place in Toronto.  On September 14th and 15th some of the world’s top asset managers are set to arrive in the city in what is being promoted as a landmark moment in Canada’s economic strategy — a chance to attract US$1 trillion in global capital over the next five years and economically reposition the country amid the current trade war with the United States. The government’s messaging frames the summit as a bold, forward‑looking initiative designed to strengthen Canada’s economic resilience and diversify away from over‑reliance on the US. But beneath the polished PR messaging lies a far more troubling reality — the summit represents a deepening entrenchment of global financial and corporate power in Canada’s political and economic life.

The gathering will bring together roughly 250 of the world’s most powerful financial actors, who collectively control an estimated US$120 trillion in assets — nearly the entire annual output of the global economy. Those attending are not philanthropists. They are representatives of institutions whose primary obligation is to maximize returns for investors and shareholders. Their interests do not align with the public good, democratic accountability, or the long‑term well‑being of ordinary Canadians.

This raises a very important question. In holding this summit is Prime Minister Mark Carney looking after the interests of Canadians, or is he acting as an agent of global elites and oligarchs? His government’s policy trajectory since taking office — from corporate‑tilted tariff relief programs to labour code reforms that critics fear will weaken worker protections — suggests a pattern of governance that privileges the wealthy and powerful over the needs of the public.

The summit’s agenda, guest list, and political context reveal a project that is not designed to strengthen public services or expand democratic control. Instead, it appears to be a vehicle for accelerating privatization, expanding corporate influence, and reshaping Canada’s economy in ways that benefit global capital while leaving ordinary Canadians behind.

A summit built for global capital

The summit’s agenda is a showcase of sectors coveted by global investors: critical minerals, uranium, pipelines, reactors, artificial intelligence, quantum computing, defence manufacturing, and advanced industrial production. These sectors are not simply economic opportunities — they are strategic assets that shape national sovereignty, environmental futures, and public safety.

The summit’s agenda reads like a showcase of sectors coveted by global investors — critical minerals, uranium, pipelines, reactors, artificial intelligence, quantum computing, defence manufacturing, and advanced industrial production. These are not merely areas of economic opportunity; they are strategic assets that shape national sovereignty, environmental futures, and public safety. The calibre of attendees underscores this reality. Among those expected in Toronto are Berkshire Hathaway, with a market capitalization exceeding $1 trillion, KKR with $758 billion in assets, Mubadala at $385 billion, and Norges Bank Investment Management, which controls an astonishing $2.3 trillion. They will be joined by Saudi Arabia’s Public Investment Fund, valued at $1.2 trillion, the Abu Dhabi National Oil Company with $477 billion, Australia’s Macquarie Group at $205 billion, and IFM Investors with $201 billion under management.

These institutions do not answer to Canadians. Their accountability lies with global markets, sovereign wealth funds, and private shareholders whose priorities are driven by profit maximization rather than public welfare. Their presence at the summit signals a profound shift in Canada’s economic strategy — a pivot toward deep integration with global capital and away from public ownership, democratic oversight, and the protection of essential public assets.

This shift raises a critical question: if the summit is truly intended to benefit Canada, why is opposition to it rapidly building across so many sectors of Canadian society?

The privatization threat

Reports suggest that the summit may include discussions about privatizing major public assets — airports, ports, toll roads, power grids, and even water systems. Privatization is often presented as a strategy to attract investment, improve efficiency, or modernize infrastructure. Yet the global record tells a very different story. When corporations assume control of essential public assets, the results follow a familiar pattern: user fees rise, accountability diminishes, service quality declines, democratic oversight erodes, and profit is extracted from services that people depend on for daily life. These outcomes are not theoretical. They have been documented across dozens of countries where privatization has led to deteriorating public services and widening inequality.

One example illustrates the stakes with stark clarity. Former Nestlé CEO Peter Brabeck‑Letmathe once argued that the idea of water as a basic human right is “extreme.” His statement reflects a worldview in which fundamental human needs — water, electricity, transportation — are treated as commodities rather than rights. It is a worldview that sees public infrastructure not as a shared foundation for collective well‑being, but as an opportunity for private profit.

If such thinking is allowed to shape Canada’s infrastructure future, the consequences could be severe. Water systems, power grids, and transportation networks are not luxuries, they are the backbone of modern life. Entrenching control of these systems in the hands of global investors who prioritize returns over public welfare would mark a profound and potentially irreversible shift in Canadian society.

Critics warn that if the sale of public assets is on the table, Canadians will be the losers in the long run.

Inequality and the corporate tilt of Carney’s policies

Canada is experiencing a spiralling inequality crisis. Housing costs have soared, wages have stagnated, and the affordability crisis continues to deepen. Yet Carney’s policies have consistently prioritized corporate interests, with only a handful of policies addressing the affordability crisis.

One example is the $7.5 billion Trump tariff relief package, which — as reporting shows — “falls short for small business” because strict eligibility rules block many from accessing aid. Large corporations, however, face few such barriers. This pattern reinforces a central concern: the summit is not designed to help ordinary Canadians. It is designed to help corporations expand their control over Canadian industries and public assets.

Carney’s government has also launched a sweeping review of the Canada Labour Code, prompting fears that worker protections may be weakened. If labour standards are eroded while public assets are privatized, the result will be a Canada in which workers face greater precarity while corporations enjoy greater freedom to extract profit.

This is not a path toward shared prosperity. It is a path toward oligarchy.

Opposition to the summit is intensifying across a wide spectrum of Canadian society — labour unions, Indigenous sovereignty movements, tenant organizations, climate justice groups, anti‑war networks, migrant‑rights advocates, and Palestine‑solidarity coalitions. Many of these groups have begun referring to the event as “Davos on Lake Ontario,” a pointed comparison to the World Economic Forum’s annual gathering of billionaires and corporate executives. The nickname captures their belief that the summit is not a forum for democratic economic planning but rather a meeting designed to consolidate elite power.

Their concerns are grounded in lived experience. Labour organizations warn that the summit’s corporate‑centric agenda could further weaken labour protections and expand employer power. Indigenous land defenders caution that the financing of megaprojects may accelerate resource extraction on unceded territories, deepening conflicts over sovereignty and environmental stewardship. Tenant advocates fear that privatization initiatives will worsen housing affordability by placing essential infrastructure in the hands of profit‑driven actors. Climate activists object to the summit’s emphasis on pipelines, reactors, and fossil‑fuel infrastructure, arguing that it entrenches carbonin-tensive development at a moment when rapid decarbonization is urgently needed. Anti‑war groups raise alarms about the presence of defence manufacturers and military‑industrial firms, whose interests are tied to Israel’s genocide in Gaza. Migrant rights advocates point out that global capital often relies on precarious labour conditions, leaving migrant workers vulnerable to exploitation. And Palestine‑solidarity groups condemn the invitation of BlackRock CEO Larry Fink, whose company profits from weapons manufacturers supplying Israel’s assault on Gaza.

Taken together, these concerns lead to a critical question: why are so many social movements mobilizing against a summit that claims to be for the benefit of Canada? The answer is straightforward. These groups do not believe the summit is designed to serve the public good. They see it instead as a gathering of powerful interests whose priorities are fundamentally misaligned with the needs, rights, and aspirations of ordinary Canadians.

The invitation of Larry Fink, CEO of BlackRock, is particularly controversial. BlackRock is one of the largest asset managers in the world, with deep investments in fossil fuels, defence contractors, surveillance technology, and companies linked to human rights abuses. Fink himself has been a supporter of Donald Trump, and BlackRock has profited from weapons manufacturers whose products have been used in Israel’s assault on Gaza — an assault widely described by human rights organizations as genocidal.

This raises a pointed question. Why did Carney invite Larry Fink — a known Trump ally — to a summit supposedly designed to benefit Canadians?

The answer appears to be that Carney is courting global capital without regard for its ethical implications. This is not the behaviour of a leader prioritizing human rights. It is the behaviour of a leader prioritizing investment flows.

A pro‑corporate, militarist, anti‑environment summit

The summit’s agenda features sessions devoted to pipelines, reactors, defence manufacturing, advanced military technology, critical minerals extraction, and fossil‑fuel infrastructure. This is not the agenda of a government preparing to confront climate change, strengthen public services, or expand social welfare. It is the agenda of a government courting capital, directing attention toward sectors that promise high returns for investors — often at the expense of environmental protection, Indigenous rights, and community well‑being.

This naturally leads to a pressing question: where will the benefit for ordinary Canadians come from? The summit’s official materials offer no meaningful answer, nor do the government’s press releases. Instead, the advantages appear to flow overwhelmingly toward global investors, multinational corporations, sovereign wealth funds, defence manufacturers, fossil‑fuel companies, and private‑equity firms. In this distribution of benefits, ordinary Canadians are conspicuously absent. The structure of the summit makes clear that its priorities lie not with public welfare but with the consolidation of elite financial power.

Carney’s strategy is to present Canada as a hedge against American volatility — a safe alternative for global investors seeking to diversify away from the United States. This is a bold geopolitical move, but it carries risks. The question is not just whether this strategy will provoke Washington. It is whether Canada’s economic future should be shaped in closed‑door meetings with global elites rather than through democratic debate.

The presence of former Conservative prime minister Stephen Harper at the conference to close a summit hosted by a Liberal prime minister underscores the bipartisan nature of Canada’s corporate‑investment consensus. When both major parties align with global capital, it’s a sure bet that democratic accountability will weaken.

Canadians should be wary

The Canada Investment Summit is not a neutral economic event. It is a political project — one that risks accelerating privatization of Canadian public assets, weaken labour protections, and entrench corporate power. If public assets are put on the table, Canadians will be the losers in the long run.

This is not alarmism. It is a sober assessment of what will happen if essential infrastructure is handed over to global investors whose primary obligation is profit maximization.

Canadians should be wary. They should ask hard questions. They should demand transparency. And they should listen to the social movements raising the alarms, because those movements have correctly identified what is at stake — the future of public ownership, democratic governance, and the public good itself.

© 2026 The View From Here. © 2026 Fareed Khan. All Rights Reserved.

Canadians want a politics of decency and humanity, and NDP leader Avi Lewis could deliver it

Canadians are rejecting the politics of fear and capitulation and instead choosing a politics of empathy, solidarity, and material improvement. 

By Fareed Khan

A version of this article can be found on Substack

Avi Lewis’s election as leader of the federal New Democratic Party earlier this year was not merely an internal party upset or a moment of ideological turbulence. It was a national signal—clear, forceful, and overdue that Canadians are rejecting the traditional political binary that has dominated federal politics for years—a choice between the Conservative Party and Pierre Poilievre’s rage‑based theatrics, or the Liberal Party led by Mark Carney, a polished but pliant technocrat. Lewis’s victory shows that Canadians are hungry for something different, for a politics rooted in humanity, solidarity, and economic dignity.

For decades, Canadians have been told that their political choices begin and end with the two parties that have governed the country since Confederation—parties now led by a career politician who thrives on division and a former central banker who campaigned on “elbows up” toughness but has governed with “hands up” submission. Neither Poilievre or Carney offers what Canadians actually need. One cannot deliver because he sits in Opposition, and the other has failed because none of the initiatives he announced as prime minister have materialized—whether on affordable housing, affordable groceries, affordable internet and phone services, a government willing to confront corporate greed, or a leader with a moral compass in the face of genocide who stands up to foreign pressure rather than bows before it.

Lewis’s rise demonstrates that Canadians are sick of fear‑based politics and want to embrace a politics of decency—one that understands the daily struggles of ordinary people and refuses to treat corporate interests or foreign governments as the true constituency of Canadian democracy.

The failure of the old politics

Poilievre’s politics revolve around resentment, division, and perpetual outrage. He has mastered the art of weaponizing anger while offering little in the way of substantive solutions. Carney, by contrast, presents himself as a steady hand, a global thinker, a technocrat who has the international experience to manage crises with calm expertise. But his record since becoming prime minister reveals a troubling pattern. Despite his speeches promoting “elbows up”, when confronted by pressure from Donald Trump’s administration, Carney has given concessions without getting anything from the United States in return.

Many Canadians voted for Carney out of fear—fear of Poilievre becoming prime minister, and fear of Trump’s threats to annex Canada or impose crippling tariffs. But fear is not a governing philosophy, and Canadians are now realizing that Carney’s leadership has delivered submission more than economic stability, and that his tools to deliver that economic stability are very limited.

Trump’s escalating war with Iran (something over which Carney has no control) has already destabilized global markets, driven up energy prices, rattled supply chains, and pushed major economies toward recession. Canadians have felt the effects of this in gas prices and at the grocery store.  His erratic tariff threats, sanctions, and military adventurism have created an environment where no country can count on predictable trade flows or stable investment conditions.

Carney promised during the federal election that he would shield Canadians from global volatility, insisting that his experience as a central banker in both Canada and the United Kingdom equipped him to steady the economy in turbulent times. But the reality has been starkly different. Despite his international stature and frequent overseas trips to seek investment and sign trade deals, Carney has no meaningful ability to counteract the economic shockwaves generated by Trump’s decisions. His government cannot blunt the impact of Trump’s escalating confrontation with Iran, which has already driven up global energy prices, disrupted supply chains, and pushed major economies toward the brink of recession. Nor can Carney insulate Canadians from the broader instability created by Trump’s unpredictable sanctions, tariff threats, and military brinkmanship. In practice, Carney’s government has little leverage and no effective strategy beyond waiting for the chaos instigated by Washington to pass. The economic turbulence unleashed by the US president since returning to office is far larger than Carney’s ability to deliver on his promises, and Canadians are now living with the consequences.

Carney’s pattern of capitulation

Carney’s “elbows up” pledge has collapsed under the weight of repeated concessions to Washington. Four major examples illustrate this pattern clearly.

Digital Services Tax retreat: Carney promised to ensure multinational tech giants pay their fair share—a 3% levy on the Canadian revenues of US tech giants. But when Trump threatened retaliatory tariffs, Carney rescinded implementation of the Digital Services Tax in June 2025, effectively surrendering to US pressure rather than defending Canadian sovereignty. Critics across the political spectrum described the move as a capitulation wrapped in the political spin of affordability for Canadian consumers.

Gordie Howe Bridge concession: Trump’s administration attempted to use the Gordie Howe International Bridge as leverage, threatening delays and regulatory obstacles unless Canada made concessions on unrelated trade issues. Instead of asserting Canada’s rights in a binational infrastructure project based on a legal and binding agreement, Carney quietly acquiesced. His government’s refusal to release the details of the deal speaks volumes. It’s another instance of when Trump pushes, Carney yields.

The F‑35 procurement paralysis: More than a year after Carney called for a review of Canada’s purchase of F-35 fighter jets, his refusal to make a clear decision—despite years of planning and billions of taxpayer dollars already committed—is another example of his unwillingness to confront Washington. Trump’s administration openly pressured Canada to accelerate the procurement and Canada even put in a down payment on 14 additional jets, and Carney has responded with indecision rather than resolve. His hesitation signaled weakness and an unwillingness to make a decision that affects the future of the RCAF.

Withdrawal of the Online Streaming Act levy: Perhaps the clearest example of Carney’s capitulation came with his withdrawal of the Online Streaming Act levy. The levy would have required major American streaming platforms—Netflix, Amazon Prime, Disney+, and others—to contribute up to 15% of their Canadian revenues toward Canadian and Indigenous content production. The policy was designed to strengthen Canada’s cultural sector and ensure foreign platforms invested in the country from which they profit.

But after intense pressure from US officials, American tech companies, and Trump’s trade representatives—who called the levy “discriminatory”—Carney reversed course. He directed the CRTC to rewrite the rules, effectively scrapping the levy and replacing it with a $600‑million annual federal subsidy. Carney framed the decision as an affordability measure, claiming the levy would raise subscription costs for Canadians. But critics immediately recognized the move for what it was: another concession to Washington in the middle of Trump’s trade war with Canada.

The reversal shocked Canada’s cultural sector, blindsided Liberal MPs, and signaled to foreign corporations that Canadian cultural policy is negotiable whenever U.S. pressure is applied. It was a textbook example of Carney’s governing style—rhetorical toughness paired with policy surrender.

Avi Lewis represents the politics many Canadians want

Lewis’s victory in the NDP leadership race signals a profound shift in the Canadian political landscape, as is the NDP’s rise in the polls. Canadians are rejecting the politics of fear and capitulation and instead choosing a politics of empathy, solidarity, and material improvement.

The truth is that Lewis understands what Canadians want: affordable housing built for people, not investors.  Affordable groceries in a market dominated by corporate giants; affordable internet, data, and phone services in a country where telecom monopolies extract some of the highest fees in the world; a government that stands up to corporate power, not one that bends to it; a foreign policy rooted in human rights, not one shaped by the interests of states like Israel whose actions violate international law with impunity.

Lewis’s politics are grounded in the daily realities of Canadians who are struggling to pay rent, feed their families, and stay connected in an increasingly digital world. He speaks to the majority, not the elite minority.

A new kind of leadership

Lewis offers something Canadians have been denied for years—a politics of courage and compassion. He does not posture. He does not perform toughness while quietly capitulating behind closed doors. He does not weaponize anger or fear. Instead, he offers a politics rooted in human dignity.

He has shown he can empathize with people’s struggles and articulate a vision of Canada that is not defined by corporate interests or foreign pressure. He has demonstrated that he understands the basic needs of the vast majority of Canadians—and that he is willing to fight for them.

This is why his rise to lead the NDP matters. It is not simply a victory for the party’s left wing. It is a declaration that Canadians are ready for a new political era.

The Canadian public has shifted

The old political class still insists that Canadians are fundamentally centrist, cautious, and resistant to bold change. But Lewis’s victory proves otherwise. Canadians are tired of being told that they must accept corporate greed, rising costs, and foreign interference as inevitable facts of life. They are tired of being governed by people who do not understand them.

Lewis’s election is a wake‑up call—not just for the NDP, but for the entire country. It shows that Canadians are ready to embrace a politics that prioritizes human dignity over corporate profit, sovereignty over submission, and solidarity over division.

Carney and Poilievre offer Canadians politics as it has been for most of Canada’s existence—alternating between two parties which have both shifted to the right of the political spectrum.  Lewis offers a politics of hope, and Canadians are making it clear which they prefer.

© 2026 The View From Here. © 2026 Fareed Khan. All Rights Reserved.

The Iran war is negatively impacting national economies, and will have severe impacts on real estate

Beyond higher interest rates and inflation, wars cause jobs to dry up, slow construction, and increase unemployment. 

By Fareed Khan 

A version of this can be found on Substack.

Regional wars that break out far from Canada can still send strong ripples through the economy and impact every sector in the economy, particularly real estate and housing. The current war on Iran instigated by the United States and Israel, which started on February 28, shows exactly how this happens. Rising oil prices, higher everyday living costs and the Bank of Canada keeping interest rates elevated all make it tougher for average families to buy homes, slow down sales and push house prices lower. The longer these conflicts last, the more damage they do.

Canada’s real estate sector stands out as one of the largest parts of the national economy, accounting for roughly 13.2% of GDP – the biggest single slice of the national economic pie. This covers the value of people living in their own homes, rental properties, commercial leasing and the work of real estate agents and brokers. It also accounts for jobs in construction, banking and related services, which fuels much of the consumer spending that keeps the economy moving. When this sector takes a hit, the pain spreads quickly, touching everything from the more than one million mortgage renewals due in 2026, to plans for the construction of new homes and condos across the country.

The way these economic shocks reach Canada's shores is straightforward—and it plays out the same way with every major global conflict. Wars in the Middle East hit particularly hard because the region produces a substantial share of the world's oil supply; under normal conditions, countries there (including key Gulf producers) account for roughly 30 per cent of global output, and critical routes like the Strait of Hormuz carry about one-fifth of seaborne crude trade.

When fighting disrupts production, threatens tankers or blocks key shipping lanes—as has happened dramatically since the current conflict escalated—oil prices surge quickly. That higher cost flows straight into everyday expenses—gasoline at the pump gets pricier, home heating bills climb, and even the price of fruits and vegetables rises because so much modern farming relies on oil-based fertilizers and fuel for transport. Even though Canada is a net exporter of oil and produces more than it consumes domestically, the country isn't shielded from these international swings. When global oil prices jump, the cost of living rises for everyone, no matter where they live, pushing up inflation and pressuring central banks to respond.

To stop prices from spiralling out of control, the Bank of Canada holds off on cutting interest rates or raises them if needed, thus making mortgages more expensive, especially the variable-rate ones many households carry. According to the International Monetary Fund Canadians already carry some of the heaviest household debt in the world relative to their income, consistently ranking at or near the top among developed nations. As of the fourth quarter of 2025, Canadians held approximately $1.77 in credit market debt for every dollar of disposable income, according to Statistics Canada data released in March 2026.

In the current market, with housing affordability already a major problem, and households struggling under these heavy debt burdens, even modest rate increases make buying a home feel out of reach for many. In such a scenario, many owners would likely decide to stay put rather than sell and take on a costlier new mortgage, while first-time buyers find entering the market even more difficult. 

This pressure has been building for years.  Since 2021, consumer insolvencies—including bankruptcies—have risen annually, with 2025 recording the second-highest annual volume on record since tracking began in 1987, a 16-year high. Consumer bankruptcies specifically increased by 4.3% compared to 2024, driven largely by persistent inflation, higher debt servicing costs from elevated interest rates, and growing debt loads, particularly on credit cards.

These trends leave families more vulnerable when external shocks like rising energy prices from a distant war push borrowing costs higher, turning what might be a temporary squeeze into longer-term financial strain that further cools the real estate market.

Building new homes becomes noticeably more expensive too, because oil plays a central role in producing many construction materials—asphalt for roads and roofing, plastics for pipes and wiring, paints, and insulation—while also raising the price of trucking those supplies across vast distances to building sites. At the same time, when wars disrupt global supply chains and sows widespread uncertainty about the economy, people considering entering the housing market or moving to a bigger home, along with investors eyeing properties, often choose to pause and wait for a more stable situation. That collective hesitation quickly becomes visible in the market as fewer homes sell, activity slows sharply, and house prices flatten or begin to trend downward. 

If a conflict ends quickly, things can usually return to normal fairly soon once oil supplies stabilize and interest rates come down. But when the fighting drags on—as appears increasingly likely in the current US-Israel operations against Iran, now in its third week with no immediate end in sight—the elevated costs take root as the new everyday reality.  Borrowing remains expensive for an extended period, and the harm to home values grows deeper and more persistent, affecting markets nationwide from high-rise condos in Vancouver and Toronto to single-family houses in Halifax and communities in between.

During the six long years of the Second World War, Canadian factories turned almost entirely to producing weapons, vehicles, and other military supplies, left civilian construction—including new homes—severely limited. With building materials rationed and labour redirected to the war effort, the number of homes added to the market was far below what was needed. As the conflict dragged on, cities swelled with workers drawn to wartime jobs and, later, with returning soldiers eager to start new lives. The result was a sharp housing shortage that left families crammed into overcrowded apartments, shared homes, or whatever shelter they could find.

Because the disruption lasted so many years, the housing market could not begin to recover until well after the fighting ended in 1945. Only then, with the help of government programs such as those run by the newly created Central Mortgage and Housing Corporation, did large-scale home building finally take off and ease the pressure. Even though Canada was never bombed or occupied, the long diversion of resources and attention to the war effort still created a deep and lasting housing crunch for ordinary families across the country.

The 1973 Yom Kippur War and the oil embargo that followed also brought years of rising prices and economic pain to Canada. Fuel costs quadrupled, pushing up the price of almost everything. To fight the surge in living costs, the Bank of Canada pushed rates higher, eventually topping 20% by the early 1980s. Mortgage payments became crushing for many families, sales slowed dramatically and home prices stagnated or fell when measured against inflation. The effects lasted well into the 1980s because the oil shock did not fade quickly, showing how a distant conflict can keep housing under pressure for years even when Canada was not directly involved.

The 1990-1991 Gulf War lasted only months but still helped trigger a recession that weighed on Canadian real estate+ for several years afterward. Oil prices spiked at first, inflation rose and consumer confidence cratered. The Bank of Canada eventually cut rates, but the damage had already been done as sales weakened, new building slowed and average house prices dropped noticeably in many parts of the country. The short duration of the war allowed an eventual rebound, yet it proved that even brief regional wars can create extended drags on the market through higher costs and lost confidence.

The Russia-Ukraine war, now entering its fourth year, offers a recent warning of how drawn-out fighting keeps hurting economies far away. Energy and food prices jumped as a direct result of the Russian incursion into Ukraine, forcing the Bank of Canada to raise interest rates within a week after the invasion began, driven by fears of runaway inflation and soaring commodity prices. Housing sales volumes cooled, affordability worsened and price growth slowed across the country even in strong markets like Toronto and Vancouver. The conflict’s length has prevented a full recovery, leaving higher borrowing costs and uncertainty in place far longer than a quick resolution would have allowed.

The current situation with Iran is already showing early signs of the same pressures. Since the strikes began in late February, oil prices have climbed to more than US$100 per barrel, with gas prices topping $2.00 per litre in British Columbia, approaching $1.70 per litre in Ontario and Quebec, and reaching $1.80 per litre in Atlantic Canada. Bond yields have moved higher because investors worry about lasting inflation, making mortgage rates firmer just as hundreds of thousands of Canadian families face renewals. Economists note that if the conflict stretches on, the Bank of Canada may have to increase rates and keep them elevated longer, delaying the relief many home buyers were counting on for the spring market.

Wars create extra layers of harm beyond higher interest rates. Construction jobs dry up when building slows because of costly materials and hesitant buyers, leaving tradespeople out of work, and more families are forced to sell homes quickly—sometimes at a loss—to cover bills. This extra supply on the market pushes prices down even further in already soft conditions.

Overseas investors who once saw Canadian real estate as a safe place to park money are also likely reassess their investing and with many of them looking at investment opportunities in other countries. With uncertainty rising, capital will flow elsewhere, cutting demand sharply in cities where foreign buyers play a large role in the market—cities like Toronto and Vancouver—and will cause noticeable price drops in certain neighbourhoods. The simple fear of what might happen next will freeze the market in place, as families put off buying their first home or moving up, while sellers who can afford to wait hold off until the market improves. Fewer deals mean that prices will drift lower as the lack of activity itself signals trouble to everyone watching.

Looking back at past conflicts makes the pattern clear. During the early 1990s slowdown linked to the Gulf War, Canadian real estate took a particularly heavy hit, with property values declining sharply in many rmarkets once lending tightened and confidence vanished. The 1973 oil crisis produced similar years of flat or falling prices once inflation was taken into account. These repeated drops show how deeply wars can wound the housing market even in a peaceful country like Canada.

Notable is that the economic damage does not stop when the shooting ends. It often takes years for confidence to return fully, for rates to settle and for large numbers of buyers to feel secure enough to jump back in. During that slow recovery period, many families watch their biggest asset—their home—lose ground or fail to grow, eating into retirement equity and overall wealth that most Canadians count on. This long-lasting drag is why experts stress that extended wars are especially dangerous for the housing sector.

Real estate’s large role in the Canadian economy makes these blows land harder. It not only drives a big share of GDP but also supports hundreds of thousands of jobs, and lets families tap into home equity for everything from children's education to daily spending. When wars disrupt that foundation through higher interest rates, increased costs, fewer sales and lower values, the effects reach far beyond individual homeowners to slow growth across the national economy.

Taken together, history and the present situation prove the point clearly. Regional wars send shocks through energy prices and interest rates that reach Canada regardless of any direct involvement. Short conflicts may cause only brief dips, but longer ones—like the multi-year oil crises of the 1970s, the lingering effects of the Gulf War recession or Ukraine’s ongoing drag—embed higher costs, greater uncertainty, and sustained pressure on real estate prices.

The new Iran conflict, with its potential to push oil prices to new record highs, and keep inflation elevated, risks repeating the worst of those patterns if it continues. Mortgage payments could stay at painful levels, new construction could remain stalled, and buyer confidence could remain shaky, leading to clear declines in real estate values nationwide. The longer such wars go on, the more severely Canadian real estate and housing values suffer—a reminder of how connected even a peaceful country’s biggest asset class is to distant conflicts.

© The View From Here.  © Fareed Khan.  All Rights Reserved.

The US annexing Greenland would result in catastrophe for North America and Europe

Economically, the fallout would devastate the US as the European Union and NATO nations retaliate in response to American aggression . . . including dumping holdings of US debt . . .

 
By Fareed Khan 
A version of this article can be found on Substack.

As Canadians, deeply invested in the stability of our continent and the alliances that have protected it for generations, we should view the escalating American rhetoric around annexing Greenland with profound alarm. In early 2026, President Donald Trump’s repeated assertions that the United States must control this Danish territory “one way or another” for national security reasons have pushed transatlantic relations to a breaking point. If the US were to proceed with forceful annexation, whether through military action or overwhelming economic coercion, it would constitute an unprecedented act of aggression against a fellow NATO member. Rather than strengthening the United States it would represent geopolitical suicide, dismantling the post-World War Two international order that has prevented major wars among major global powers and ensured relative global peace.

The bedrock of this order is NATO, founded in 1949 on the principle of collective defence. Article 5 declares that an armed attack against one ally is considered an attack against all. By moving against Greenland, a semi-autonomous territory of Denmark fully covered by NATO’s guarantees, the US would trigger this clause against itself. Such a betrayal would render the alliance untenable overnight. European leaders, including Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen, have explicitly warned that an attack on Greenland would spell the end of NATO. The organization that has deterred Soviet and then Russian aggression for 75 years would collapse, forcing Europe to accelerate independent rearmament and seek new security arrangements that exclude the former guarantor. This fracture would not only embolden adversaries like Russia and China in the Arctic but also leave North America more vulnerable, as shared defense structures collapse.

Militarily, the consequences for the United States would be swift and severe. Europe currently hosts numerous key US installations—over 30 military bases and additional sites—essential for projecting power into Eurasia, the Middle East, and Africa. Facilities like Ramstein Air Base in Germany, Aviano in Italy, and RAF Lakenheath in the UK form the backbone of American forward presence. In retaliation for an attack on a NATO partner, European governments would demand—and likely enforce—the closure of these bases, evicting US forces from soil they helped defend since 1945. The US would retreat to a more isolated posture, losing critical logistical advantages and diminishing its global reach. Recent European deployments of small contingents to Greenland for joint exercises with Denmark already signal a shift toward bolstering Arctic defences without heavy US reliance.

Economically, the fallout would devastate the US as the European Union and NATO nations retaliate in response to American aggression and restrict American products entering the European market. The EU could impose comprehensive sanctions, including dumping holdings of US debt, divesting from dollar reserves, and targeting American corporations operating on the continent. This would undermine the dollar’s status as the global reserve currency, sparking a severe devaluation, rampant US inflation, and a potential stock market collapse far exceeding more recent crises. American companies—tech giants, automakers, and consumer brands—could face asset seizures, market bans, or forced divestitures, erasing trillions in value. Aviation restrictions might ground Boeing aircraft and bar US carriers from European airspace, severing transatlantic supply chains. The result would be a rapid de-globalization that isolates the American economy from its wealthiest trading partners and severely weakens it, contrary to the promises Donald Trump made to American voters. 

Diplomatic and cultural isolation would compound the damage. International sporting bodies, drawing parallels to Russia’s exclusion following its 2022 invasion of Ukraine, would likely suspend the US from events like the Olympics and FIFA World Cup competitions. Team USA would be absent from global stages, treated as a pariah akin to Russia. Visa-free travel to Europe would end abruptly, complicating movement for Americans and turning the US passport into a barrier rather than an asset. This ostracism would be long-term because trust, once shattered by invading a democratic ally, does not easily recover. Europe would pivot to independent defence architectures, alternative financial systems, and alliances that sideline the US, preserving the broader Western framework without American leadership.

The consequences for Canada would be devastating, given our deep and longstanding economic entanglement with the United States. Bilateral trade between the two countries routinely surpasses a trillion dollars annually (combining goods and services), with the US serving as the destination for the overwhelming majority of Canadian exports. These exports account for a substantial portion of our economy—often estimated at around 17-20% of GDP in recent years. If the US economy were to collapse under the weight of severe European sanctions and diplomatic isolation, the fallout for Canada would be swift and severe with widespread job losses across interconnected industries, fractured supply chains that have evolved over decades, and intensified recessionary forces rippling through every region of the country.

In this scenario Canada would suddenly find itself caught in an excruciating dilemma—torn between our largest and most vital trading partner on one side, and our longstanding European allies on the other. In a world order turned upside down by such a crisis, Ottawa would face an unavoidable choice of allegiances. In all likelihood, Canada would ultimately side with Europe, this alignment reflecting a commitment to upholding international law and norms, as well as a strategic imperative to preserve credibility within the remnants of NATO and the broader network of global institutions. Standing firmly against any illegal annexation would help safeguard Canada’s reputation as a principled middle power, even in the face of short-term economic pain.

However, this choice carries grave risks. Canada’s Arctic expanse holds vast energy reserves and critical minerals essential for green technologies. In addition, this country holds approximately 20% of the world’s freshwater reserves—a resource increasingly coveted by the US as the American US southwest continues to grapple with a megadrought ongoing since 2000, the worst in over a millennium. If the US justifies seizing Greenland for strategic and resource needs, similar logic could cause Trump to say that the US needs Canada’s north for its strategic and economic importance as well.

To protect Canadian sovereignty in the face of such uncertainties, Canada could seek enhanced European military support—including troop deployments or joint Arctic patrols on Canadian territory. Europe, recognizing Canada as a key partner in preventing a broader transatlantic fracture, would likely respond with firm commitment by deepening security ties through established frameworks, investing in shared infrastructure, diversifying trade to lessen reliance on the US, and extending defensive assurances via EU mutual assistance mechanisms beyond NATO. Recent European troop deployments to Greenland already signal a readiness to act decisively in the Arctic, and extending comparable solidarity to Canada would strengthen collective resilience across the region.

In the end, any US annexation of Greenland would sacrifice an eight-decade alliance and the shared economic prosperity forged through cooperation, all for short-term territorial advantage. From Canada’s vantage point, this course promises not greater strength but mutual decline, where a once-dominant superpower drifts into isolation, while its former allies realign to sustain patterns of economic partnership and collective defence without American involvement. To avoid being caught in the crossfire, Canada must forge closer coordination with Europe and secure robust allied backing. The survival of the post-war international order ultimately hinges on firmly rejecting aggression—even from the US—before it becomes irreversible.

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