Nancy's Notes

Oil. Say it again. Oil. That three-letter word that runs everything from the price of my groceries to the geopolitical temperature of the Western Hemisphere. In Alberta, it isn’t a resource, it’s a personality type. In federal politics, it’s a loyalty test. And internationally? We dress it up with talk of democracy, alliances, religion, security… but strip away the slogans and what’s underneath? Oil!

I’ve watched my entire lifetime of Middle East “operations,” “peacekeeping,” and “stabilization missions.” Peel off the moralizing, and you find that same three-letter word holding the marionette strings. And here at home, Alberta has built whole identities, economies, and political movements around it. Including mine. My husband leaves next week for another new project, because as much as I write about diversification and long-term planning, oil still pays the bills in this household.

That’s not hypocrisy. That’s Alberta. And darn oil has been good to us. But it’s also the problem. Because Alberta acts like it’s insulated from global chaos when in reality we’re sitting right in the middle of an energy world that’s shifting fast. And if you want proof of how dangerous this can get, look at Venezuela.

Never mind the complicated tapestry. It’s oil. Just oil. Venezuela has it. The U.S. wants it. And with Trump in the White House, the U.S. is dragging the Monroe Doctrine out of the 1820s like a museum relic and pretending the entire Western Hemisphere is its personal property. Don’t like a government? Overthrow it. Want a canal? Take it. Want resources? Just grab them. International law is treated as optional.

Sound familiar? Because that swagger. The belief that resources equal entitlement is the same attitude we see entrenched in some parts of Alberta politics. Cheered on by the extreme right, it fuels everything from separatist fantasies to “take back” rhetoric to the idea that oil gives us moral permission to do whatever we want.

Now the U.S. is treating Venezuela the way imperial powers used to treat Africa or Latin America: as a cupboard of resources you pry open when you feel like it. And here’s the terrifying part:
Launching an attack on Venezuela without congressional authorization or legal justification would violate international law. It would place the U.S. beside Russia on the list of nations that commit aggressive war. It would prove that the world’s self-proclaimed defender of freedom is fully willing to abandon the rules it demands everyone else follow.

All because,say it with me, OIL!

Now, Alberta loves to think we’re separate from all this mess. But we aren’t. We’re tied directly to the global market, the global politics, and the global moral compromises that come with fossil dependency. And if Alberta chases the American model, which many want to, if we follow the “oil above all” mindset,we might not like where that road ends.

This is where it gets personal. When my husband spent five years fighting for his life,cancer, cardiac arrest, a coma,I had a front-row seat to a truth most Albertans never face until their world collapses: oil money means nothing when you’re wondering if the person you love will ever wake up. Nothing!

Not the wages, not the big projects, not the boom years, not the politics built around it. You don’t sit beside a hospital bed praying for another oil boom. You sit there hoping for one more conversation.

But in Alberta, too many people view oil as a birthright and high wages as entitlement. As if this industry is supposed to guarantee them a certain lifestyle forever. As if the rest of the country should bow to our exceptionalism. As if questioning oil’s supremacy is an act of betrayal.

Let me be clear. I know what oil has provided my family. I know what it provides to Alberta. I know what it has contributed to Canada. But I also know that when life hangs in the balance, the entire mythology around oil collapses. What remains is what actually matters: people, families, health, community, stability, democracy. Not oil.

Which is why watching Alberta flirt with the same aggressive, resource-obsessed worldview we see in parts of the United States should concern every one of us. If Alberta believes its wealth gives it moral permission, if we take the American route of dominance, supremacy, and extraction above all, we are heading toward the same democratic rot.

Oil is a tiny word, just three letters. But Alberta has given it far more power than it deserves. The love of money may be the root of all evil. But the worship of oil, its money, its mythology, its political leverage, is the root of a whole lot more.

And if we don’t learn that now, we’re going to learn it the hard way.

Most mornings, I move through a routine that probably looks a lot like yours: wrangle the dogs, feed the cat, get the coffee going, check the business emails, skim the personal ones, glance at Facebook, and only then start thinking about the rest of the day. Nothing unusual.

Except today, my inbox was overflowing with statements from Prime Minister Mark Carney. Not dramatic and not performative announcements. Just straightforward records of what he’s doing: the work, the diplomacy, the economic files, the defence briefings. Five statements this morning alone. He’s in South Africa right now for the for the G20. Yes that South Africa, which people keep mislabeling with this week’s buzzwords. (A conversation for another day.)

And here’s the truth: over the past couple of months, I’ve sometimes wondered why Carney isn’t “louder.” Why he doesn’t slap a spotlight on every single thing he’s doing. Why he doesn’t pound his chest the way some leaders do. Then I look at Donald Trump’s gold-trimmed office, the oversized signature, the photo ops with the Dr. Oz, Rubio, RFK Jr, Pam Bondy cartoon lineup, and I remember: we do not need a second one of those. We already have the world champion of self-promotion.

Mark Carney leads in the opposite way, the Canadian way. Quiet, steady, competent, and never with overdramitization.

So this morning, I sat down and read the last 20 or 30 statements. And while I know these files well, I follow them obsessively, seeing them lined up, one after another, honestly hit me.

Because people keep saying, “Carney’s not doing anything.”

Well, actually, we have the receipts. In these press releases.
Literal receipts showing meetings, important calls, negotiations. and coordinated actions with our allies. All drafted, published, and sitting right there for anyone who bothers to look.

Look at the relationships he’s building. Look at his work on economic stability. Look at defence, safety, and security. Look at the effort happening behind the scenes, quietly, without the need for applause.

And look at the company he keeps: the leaders of nearly every major democracy. Because unlike the guy down south, Carney actually understands that alliances matter, not just for photo ops, but for Canada’s long-term economic and security interests.

Here’s a perfect example from today: Carney and several other leaders issued a joint statement that politely, thanked Donald Trump for his “efforts” on Ukraine. And then said, just as politely, that his proposal isn’t a credible peace plan. That it hands over land. That it weakens Ukraine’s defence posture. That it’s not peace at all, it’s capitulation presented as compromise.

This is the kind of work serious leaders do. Not performative nor loud but rather deeply consequential.

I challenge everyone to subscribe to Carney’s statements and actually read them. Yes, they’re written in diplomatic English. They won’t make you laugh. They won’t give you the adrenaline hit of an opinion piece. But that’s the point: he’s not writing for entertainment. He’s governing.

And thank God for that. Thank God he’s not a blogger, a huckster, or a man selling miracle cures out of a suitcase. And most importantly, thank God he is not Donald Trump.

Carney isn’t trying to be a celebrity. He doesn’t need rallies, slogans, or a stadium chant to keep going. He works. He thinks long-term. He moves Canada forward with intention instead of volume. He treats leadership like the responsibility it is.

This morning, after going through those statements, I felt something I wasn’t expecting: genuine gratitude. Gratitude that we have a prime minister who actually wakes up and works, not for attention, but for outcomes. Gratitude that we have someone who sees Canada as part of a global community, not an island. Gratitude that we have someone playing the long game instead of chasing the day’s headlines.

If you read what Mark Carney is doing, day after day, meeting after meeting, and still can’t see Canada’s role on the world stage rising, still can’t see the strategic work under the surface, still can’t see the direction he’s steering this country…

…then you may not understand what this moment truly demands.

Me? I see it. Clear as day. And I’ll say it plainly: I’m sure glad Mark Carney is our prime minister. Because leadership isn’t volume, it’s competence. And frankly, I’ll take competence every damn time.

“Oh no, not again,” and then, “Oh my god, not more American politics.” Well yes and no. Because while this story passes through the United States, it’s actually a Canadian story. And it’s about airplanes. Not just any airplanes, but our military jet fighters.

So where do I start?

For decades, Canada has been circling the same procurement debate like an aircraft in a holding pattern. First the Harper Conservatives committed to the F-35. Then the Trudeau Liberals backed off, re-evaluated, circled back, endorsed it, and ordered jets. And now the Carney Liberal government is taking a deep breath and asking the question a lot of Canadians are quietly asking: did we get this right?

I’m not ready to answer that yet. But here’s where I come from a very different place.

Trying to explain this without sounding dramatic is impossible, so I won’t try. The first time I ever saw an F-35 do a dirty flyby, I got chills. Real chills. That sound, that vibration, that pressure wave that rolls right through the ground and up your legs. I don’t hide from it. I run toward it. It’s who I am. Aviation is in my bones, in my family, in my upbringing.

And it’s personal because my military son, flying since 14 has long had his eye on the F-35 as his dream aircraft. His north star. And Canada has already spent billions on the program. So yes, I watch this file very closely. But then came November 6th of last year, when the United States effectively stopped being a reliable ally.

There is concern that the President of the United States could control the jets we’ve already bought. He has said openly that he could withhold parts or restrict operations. And he said it like a man who means it.

Then layer on the company he keeps, including Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, a man whose human rights and women’s rights record is a void. A black hole. A regime with zero alignment to our values. Yet somehow, in this new geopolitical landscape, MBS has become a more valuable client to the United States than Canada who is a NATO partner, a NORAD partner, and a country that has stood with them for generations. They are now a preferred customer for the F-35. That should make every Canadian stop and think.

Because if your military fleet depends on the political mood swings of a country that now prioritizes autocrats over allies, then your sovereignty is not secure. Your sky is not your own.

Which brings us to a surprising new chapter: Sweden. With the entire Swedish royal family arriving on Canadian soil, their first visit in twenty years and Saab offering 10,000 Canadian manufacturing jobs, a partnership with Bombardier, and the potential to build the Gripen here in Canada, you’d have to be asleep not to see what’s happening.

This isn’t just diplomacy, but rather a full-throttle bid for partnership.

And honestly? The Gripen is sounding pretty damn appealing.

No, it doesn’t come with the F-35’s Hollywood reputation. But it does come with something Canada desperately needs: sovereignty and stability. A platform we can maintain, build, and supply ourselves. A jet backed by a country that actually respects human rights, actually respects allies, and doesn’t use military hardware as a political bargaining chip.

Now, I don’t know exactly what this means for our existing F-35 commitments. We’ve already sunk billions into that program. That matters. But Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, our obligations to NORAD, our commitments to NATO, and Canada’s own strategic future all make this an increasingly urgent conversation.

This isn’t just about jets. This is about independence. It’s about whether Canada is prepared to make decisions without being boxed in by someone else’s politics. It’s about whether we are finally ready to secure our own sky.

Now let me take this somewhere human for a moment and go back to airplanes. Below this, you’ll see a picture of me on an F-18 the very aircraft we now need to replace. I don’t have a picture with an F-35 (yet), or a Gripen (yet), but trust me: once Canada picks our next bird, I’ll happily update the photo. Call it an aviation love story in installments.

And so I end where I began… Have I ever told you how incredible it is to stand beside a fighter jet and feel the heat from the burners? To feel the vibration in the ground when it does a high-speed pass?… I should assure you that ultimately, that’s my happy place.

So stay tuned, Canada. This is one of those rare moments when a country redefines its sovereignty, its strength, and its ability to chart its own course. And yes, we will honor our NATO commitments. But we also have the freedom, the responsibility, and the opportunity to choose what truly serves our future.

Let’s get this right. Our skies, our security and our independence depend on it.

No more taxiing behind anyone. Canada’s ready for its own runway.