Politics across the globe feel dangerous in a way that is hard to articulate without sounding alarmist, but alarmed is exactly what we should be. The world is sitting on a fault line. Every major decision made by the global superpowers reverberates across continents, supply chains, borders, households, and families. No one is insulated. And while Canadians have a uniquely deep economic and geographical relationship with the United States, this moment isn’t just about us. It’s about the entire world and its future.
Today we learned that the head of NATO expects the alliance to be formally at war with Russia within the next five years. I’m not unpacking that intelligence or the what-ifs around it. But I am acknowledging the obvious: three of those years will unfold under Donald Trump’s second presidency. And that reality, paired with what we’re seeing in front of our eyes, has pushed me to talk about something I’ve deliberately avoided.
I have a close family member living with a memory-loss disease. I’ve never said that publicly because it hurts, because naming it out loud makes it real, and because I’ve never wanted to use their struggle as a metaphor. But over these past months, as politics have escalated into something darker, I’ve found myself unable to ignore parallels in patterns of behaviour I’ve personally witnessed and the behaviour we see, daily, globally, from the President of the United States.
To be clear, I am not making a diagnosis. I’m not a doctor. I’m not suggesting equivalency. One is a loved one who lived a good, quiet life and deserves compassion and safety and never acts from a place of cruelty or evil. The other is the most powerful person on Earth. But I am talking about recognizable human patterns, changes in speech, changes in focus, erratic storytelling, unshakeable belief in invented narratives, emotional volatility, unusual physical mannerisms, and moments that simply do not match past behaviour.
Back in Trump 1.0, we all witnessed the erratic late night tweets, the mood swings, the wild pivots, the sudden tangents, behaviour that became part of the spectacle, part of the chaos-for-show that defined his first term. It was volatile and unnerving, but it was still framed as “Trump being Trump,” an exaggerated performance wrapped in grievance and bravado.
But it wasn’t until recent months that people began using the word “sundowning” in a more serious way, pointing to his increasingly disorganized late-night Truth Social posts, sharper emotional swings, moments of confusion that couldn’t be brushed off as theatrics, and most of all, the growing certainty with which he clings to things that simply aren’t real. For those of us who have lived with someone who truly does experience certain changes in behaviour and ‘imaginings’ the parallels are impossible to ignore. The volatility, the slipping coherence, the absolute conviction in invented narratives, once you’ve seen these patterns up close, it is deeply unsettling to watch echoes of them play out on a global stage.
In my family’s case we made the heartbreaking decision to place our loved one somewhere safe, supported, respected, and protected. They hold no power, no weapons, no military chain of command and yet we knew we had to make that decision. They require care, patience, and stability. And they deserve that.
Now imagine a similar pattern of behaviour, but the individual holds the largest nuclear arsenal on the planet, commands 1.3 million active-duty service members, and is treated by his closest advisors as flawless and unquestionable. Imagine that person at the centre of a geopolitical world already teetering, and imagine that no one around them is willing, or able, to intervene.
That terrifies me. And it should terrify every Canadian, every ally, every democracy. Not because we dislike his politics. Not because we preferred Biden. But because unchecked power combined with unchecked behaviour is historically catastrophic.
And yes, there were legitimate questions about Biden’s age and capacity. Some of that should have been more transparent. But Biden, for all his flaws, did not glory in cruelty. He did not fantasize about retribution. He did not weaponize the military against political enemies. The comparison is not equivalent.
As Canadians, including those of us in Alberta, we must choose leaders who will not normalize this, who will not run to Mar-a-Lago for approval, who will not bend the knee for trade favours or photo-ops. Mark Carney was never going to “manage” Donald Trump, because Trump is unmanageable. Only those closest to him can intervene. That is the point and the danger. No one is doing that.
I also know I’m not alone in this world. We are living in a time where more and more families are navigating memory-loss diseases. Millions of people understand these behavioural patterns because they live with them every single day. And yes, I know many people are waiting for the full release of the Epstein files and the Caribbean boat incident, and those disclosures absolutely matter. But just as urgent is something far closer to the present: there needs to be a full, unambiguous disclosure of this man’s cognitive and neurological assessment, not another distraction about how “perfect” his heart supposedly looked or another deflection about cankles. Transparency about his actual capacity is not a luxury; it is a global safety issue.
Something is happening, and the people around Donald Trump are doing nothing. That is what keeps me up at night. That is why I am breaking my silence about my family’s situation. Because I know what these patterns look like up close. And when I see echoes of those patterns in the Oval Office, backed by absolute power, global instability, and a circle of enablers?
Yes, it terrifies the hell out of me.
Nancy's Notes 