The Three Stooges Election: Constitutionality for Thee, But Not for Me

Welcome to the 2025 election, where the major parties each come out with bold, sweeping promises — some ambitious, some delusional, and most brushing up against constitutional convention, provincial jurisdiction, or basic logistical reality.

The real joke? They all do it, but only some get mocked for it.

Cue a self-styled “socialist” streamer, chiming in with this:

And this:

Now here’s the punchline:

Swap out “NDP” with “Liberals” or “Conservatives.”

Ask yourself — does this smug logic still hold?

Spoiler: it does.

The Liberals just promised to build 500,000 homes a year — a federal housing blitz they say will be the largest since the post-WWII prefab era.

The Conservatives want to blow past Indigenous consent and climate protections to force through pipelines and drop a “three strikes” law that practically dares the courts to strike it down.

If we’re talking about federal overreach or jurisdictional hopscotch, every single one of these parties is guilty.

But when the NDP proposes something bold and leftward — even something symbolic, even something that would require intergovernmental cooperation — suddenly we’re in civics class with a condescending TA who didn’t read the rest of the syllabus.

This post isn’t about defending the NDP’s platform — it’s about calling out the double standard in how we treat ambition on the left, especially when it comes from voices outside the Liberal establishment.

If you think the NDP’s rent control idea is unserious because it would face jurisdictional hurdles, you better be laughing the Liberals and Conservatives off the stage too.

Let’s break down what each of the Three Stooges are really promising — and who’s actually playing constitutional Calvinball.

Before we dive in, let me make something clear: this isn’t an attack on Steve Boots. He just happened to offer the perfect springboard for the broader critique I want to explore here.

I’m a big fan of Steve’s work. He’s sharp, insightful, and one of the few people genuinely doing the work of political education in an increasingly chaotic, hyper-polarized landscape.

If you’re not already following his content on YouTube, Twitch, or social media, you absolutely should. His commentary has helped a lot of people — myself included — make sense of the political moment we’re in.

But here’s the thing: nobody bats 1.000. We all miss sometimes. And when you’re growing an audience and gaining influence, your words carry more weight, which means the stakes go up. Like it or not, that comes with responsibility and accountability. And when something lands wrong, it’s fair game to respond in good faith.

Now, had Steve stopped at his initial critique of the NDP, fair game. I probably wouldn’t be writing this. I’m all for holding parties to account, especially ones that are supposed to represent our values. That kind of internal pressure is necessary. Hell, I’d even say it’s healthy.

But the issue wasn’t the critique itself. It was the defensiveness that followed.

When Steve started getting pushback, his response wasn’t to engage or clarify. It was to go on a bit of a spiral — posting three back-to-back takes that read more like a tantrum than thoughtful discourse:

This is the rhetorical equivalent of the “everyone who disagrees with me is a bot” shtick. I read the replies. Sure, there were some diehard partisans in the mix, but there were also plenty of thoughtful critiques. People who align more with my line of thinking, who were being mocked or dismissed outright by Steve and his more zealous followers.

One of the better replies came from someone named Christoivalis:

Crickets.

Look, I don’t care if someone wants to focus their criticism on the NDP. That’s valid. We should expect better from the party claiming to represent the left.

But when your public posture is this reactionary, this dismissive, and this uncritical of your own inconsistencies? Then you don’t look like you’re speaking truth to power. You look like someone who picks fights, then plays the victim when people fight back.

That’s not political education.

That’s just ego.

And ironically, I walked away from all this feeling like I learned more about Steve than I did about the NDP.

Steve nailed a core concern when he said:

And he's not wrong — at least not on the surface.

That’s the tension with promises like these: they require multilevel cooperation in a fragmented, hyperpolarized country, and that’s no small ask.

Even in a best-case scenario, where the NDP surges and somehow gets the balance of power, it's still unlikely they’d be able to implement national rent control without provincial buy-in.

So why bother campaigning on it?

Well, here's the thing: bold goals aren’t about immediate deliverables — they're about shifting the horizon. They're about setting the standard, defining the terrain, and daring others to match your ambition. You don’t win the future by accepting today's constraints as permanent.

Would it be smarter for the NDP to lay out a clear mechanism for how they'd push provinces to play ball? Absolutely.

Maybe that’s tenant organizing. Maybe it’s tying federal housing funds to affordability guarantees. Maybe it's establishing national minimum standards via the Canada Housing Benefit and using public pressure, not just policy tools, to drive action.

But instead of digging into those possibilities, the response from critics like Steve — and many in media and Liberal-aligned circles — is to treat the promise itself as unserious. Because it's coming from the left.

That’s the double standard.

When the NDP overreaches? It’s clown shoes and civics class lectures.

When the Liberals do it? It’s “visionary.”

When the Conservatives do it? It’s “bold,” “disruptive,” “populist.”

Steve’s follow-up, clearly responding to pushback, took a more sarcastic tone:

Cue the dunk:

“Explain how Saskatchewan doesn't have pharmacare, then.”

And yeah — fair enough. If your only evidence that you can bulldoze jurisdictional boundaries is a patchwork of half-measures where even supporters can’t explain what’s covered or who qualifies, maybe don’t act like that’s a slam dunk.

Because that’s the real kicker: those examples — dental, pharmacare, childcare — weren’t wins, they were half-wins at best.

Why? Because the Liberals never intended for them to be more than that. These weren’t transformative policies. They were optics-driven programs held together by red tape, paperwork, and provincial buck-passing.

That’s not just a policy failure — it’s a political one. And the NDP wears the blame, even though the patchwork is built by Liberal design and provincial stalling.

So no, the NDP shouldn’t point to those programs as proof of federal leverage. The better example — the one Steve and most critics miss — goes further back.

Let’s talk about John Diefenbaker and Tommy Douglas.

In the 1950s and 60s, the dream of universal healthcare wasn’t federally mandated from day one. It started in Saskatchewan under Douglas, and it was Diefenbaker — a populist prairie Conservative — who helped nationalize the idea by responding to public demand and leveraging federal power to lay the groundwork with the Hall Commission. That’s how we got Medicare.

Not through federal overreach, but through popular pressure.

Not through immediate buy-in, but through envy.

That’s the blueprint.

You get a few provinces on board — maybe British Columbia, maybe Manitoba — and you make rent control popular. You make Alberta and Ontario feel like they’re getting left behind. You don’t just fight for policy — you fight to change what’s politically possible.

So yeah, rent control might not be something the feds can impose by fiat — but that doesn’t make the demand meaningless. What matters is how you build the fight. And frankly, there’s a long tradition of “unconstitutional” demands becoming national standards — once people are loud enough.

So let’s not pretend this is about civic literacy. This is about whose ambition we treat as legitimate — and whose we pathologize.

Let's not forget: The Canada Health Act doesn’t deliver care directly — it sets standards and attaches strings to federal transfers. The same logic could apply to rent protections: you want federal housing funds? You cap rent increases, you guarantee vacancy controls, you meet affordability benchmarks.

Funny how we never hear ‘but that’s provincial jurisdiction’ when the feds want to bail out banks, offer subsidies to corporations, or let developers essentially write housing policy. Suddenly, constitutional convention matters when it’s working people trying to keep a roof over their heads.

And that brings us to what might be one of my favourite interactions as Steve spirals into constitutional cosplay.

Here, a Communist Party supporter responded to Steve saying:

Fair enough. At least they're honest about the stakes. But Steve’s reply?

Followed by:

Now, put aside the irony of someone saying “change the constitution” like it's a group project due next week.

What this really shows is how unserious the seriousness police actually are. Because if the constitution — or provincial jurisdiction — were truly the immovable object here, we’d expect that same energy when the Liberals promise national childcare, or when Conservatives propose Charter-violating sentencing laws and want to trample all over Indigenous rights. Wouldn’t we?

In fact, the only thing I learned here is that Steve is exactly where he should be in educating folks on politics (which he does a great job at), and away from the actual levers of power, with all due respect to him.

If my distant relative and former PM John Diefenbaker was so pure and rigid, we'd never have the Bill of Rights, which set the stage for our Charter Rights.

Here’s what the civics hall monitors miss every time they puff up their chests and shout “but the Constitution!”: Parliament proposes, the courts dispose. That’s not a flaw — that’s the design.

The job of Parliament isn’t to sit on its hands and pre-vet every idea through a hypothetical court ruling. It’s to test the limits, push the boundaries, and fight for the future.

Whether it’s Harper’s crime bills, Trudeau’s assisted dying legislation, or the Liberal Party’s use of the Emergencies Act — we’ve seen governments of every stripe put forward policies that ended up in court. That’s not radical. That’s just... governance.

So when critics like Steve scoff at rent control proposals as “unconstitutional,” they’re not defending democratic institutions. They’re defending the status quo — knowingly or not.

Because let’s be real: the Constitution isn’t some sacred, untouchable scroll handed down by the gods. It’s a political document, rooted in colonial foundations, interpreted by judges, and shaped by the pressure we apply.

And if you’re not willing to challenge the constitutional status quo — especially the parts built on British imperial leftovers and racist legal doctrines like the “doctrine of discovery” — then what the hell are you even doing in politics?

We’re not here to play constitutional cosplay. We’re here to change the damn rules.

The Constitution isn’t holy. Parliament can and should propose legislation that stretches it, tests it, even reimagines it. Because that’s how progress happens.

It’s how same-sex marriage happened. It’s how abortion rights were fought for and (partially) won. It’s how universal healthcare became a Canadian identity. Not by politely asking, “May we?” — but by organizing, legislating, and daring the courts to keep up.

So no, pushing for rent control isn’t naive. What’s naive is pretending that anything good ever came out of waiting for constitutional permission before acting in the public interest.

Let’s call this out for what it is: austerity civics.

It’s that kneejerk impulse to police leftist policy with fake-earnest concern about the rules — but only when the left proposes it.

Suddenly, people who didn’t bring the same fiery smoke with Liberal jurisdictional overreach or Conservative assaults on the Charter become constitutional purists the moment the NDP raises its voice.

Because let’s face it — nobody has been crying about jurisdiction when Mark Carney made an impossible promise on housing. Nobody clutched their pearls over the Constitution when Pierre Poilievre announced his three strikes, you're out mandatory minimums.

But when the left demands rent control? Now it’s a civics crisis.

No actual engagement. Just snark. It’s not a civics lesson — it’s gatekeeping disguised as grown-up talk.

And when someone points out that federal conditional funding is a tool every party uses, including the Liberals in their 2021 healthcare pitch, Steve just waves it off:

So what’s the alternative here? Throw up your hands and say it’s all pointless? Mock anyone who doesn’t have a provincial coalition agreement already drafted and signed in triplicate?

You see the problem is that you could literally swap out sections 91 and 92, replace it with charter sections 7, 9, 12, and 11(h) and replace NDP with CPC, and you get the exact same result.

But let’s be real: Even after Poilievre promised a "three strikes" criminal sentencing regime — one that undoubtedly violates Charter rights — we don't see this hand-wringing over jurisdiction.

We see it branded as bold and tough on crime until the courts would inevitably strike it down (should the CPC somehow manage to win). And even then, it would still shape the public debate.

Because the truth is, ambition always comes first — legal mechanisms and policy scaffolding come second. But only when you're not on the left.

And speaking of federal overreach...

Let’s talk about the Liberals’ shiny new promise: 500,000 homes a year — the biggest building blitz since the Second World War.

Sounds bold, even historic, right?

But here’s the rub: like rent control, housing construction is largely in provincial and municipal hands. Funny how no one gets a “civics lecture” this time — no lectures about jurisdiction or constitutional limits when it's a big flashy federal promise from the Liberals.

Because to actually make good on this, Mark Carney and the Liberal Party would need full cooperation from provincial premiers like Doug Ford and Danielle Smith — neither of whom is exactly known for respecting constitutional norms. Ford, in particular, is a frequent flyer with the undemocratic notwithstanding clause.

And even if Carney does get them on board — is that a good thing?

That’s the likelier scenario anyway, especially from the same party that semi-recently defended its accidental celebration of a Nazi in Parliament and continues to support an unfolding genocide abroad, including the embrace of a hateful antisemtic IHRA definition of antisemitism that has been called out by the UN and major human rights orgs, including the folks who drafted it.

Why the man who drafted the IHRA definition condemns its use

The Liberals may call it pragmatism — but it's a pattern of capitulation dressed up as leadership.

The Feasibility Problem: Who’s Making the Promise?

And then there’s the elephant in the room: the man behind this grand promise, Mark Carney.

Liberal supporters love to point to his PhD and illustrious career as proof that Carney is the only person who can solve Canada’s economic woes. But if you actually look at his record — and not just the resume he’s built with polished corporate speak — you’ve got to wonder: What exactly does he think he's promising?

Carney, of all people, should know better than anyone that this 500,000-homes-a-year target is more fantasy than feasibility. It’s not like we’re in an era where Canada controls its own sovereign currency anymore. It’s not even like we’re talking about the kind of public investment that would put people over profits.

And it gets worse when you look deeper at Carney’s track record. Recent reports, like that CBC piece titled "Carney's green funds at Brookfield used Bermuda tax haven to attract investors", paint a picture of Carney’s economic worldview: neoliberalism — the same economic system that ensures the rich keep getting richer while the rest of us struggle to afford a roof over our heads.

His work at Brookfield, where offshore tax havens were used to attract investment, is just the tip of the iceberg. It’s a glaring reminder that Carney is no stranger to using loopholes to enrich the already wealthy, not exactly the champion of public housing or a progressive agenda.

This is a man whose entire career is rooted in pushing policies that prioritize private profits over public good — and now, somehow, he’s supposed to be the hero of the housing crisis? The same system that fuels wealth inequality, corporate tax evasion, and the concentration of power in the hands of the few?

This housing promise, when looked through the lens of Carney’s past, looks less like a genuine effort to address the housing crisis and more like a convenient way to distract us from the fact that the system is rigged against us.

The rich will get tax breaks, investors will get returns, and Canadians will get more of the same — skyrocketing rents, unaffordable homes, and a deepening wealth gap.

Now, before anyone starts accusing me of being too hard on the Liberals and giving the Conservatives a free pass — let’s not forget: I’m calling out every party here, no one’s getting a free ride.

The fact that the Liberals are making unconstitutional promises doesn’t excuse the Conservatives from their own agenda, which is far more dangerous for Canadian rights and long-term prosperity.

Don’t just take my word for it — look at the record.

Go back and check out my federal legislation thread, where I’ve already dissected a whole heap of Harper-era bills that laid the groundwork for the kind of corporate-friendly, anti-rights agenda Poilievre is now championing.

The commentary from Pierre and the rest of his party speaks for itself.

For those who aren’t familiar, the Oil Moratorium Act was a half-measure passed during the Trudeau era. While it didn’t go nearly as far as it should have, it was at least an acknowledgment of the need to protect Indigenous lands from further exploitation.

But here’s where things get interesting: Indigenous communities were loud and clear about their opposition to any weakening of protections. If I recall, 9 or 10 out of the 18 briefs submitted to the government came from Indigenous groups and communities, all warning of the harm that scrapping the moratorium would cause.

Poilievre’s promise to rip up that act isn’t just reckless; it’s unconstitutional.

Indigenous rights are enshrined in our constitution, and yet, Poilievre and the CPC are prepared to throw those rights under the bus for the sake of corporate interests and oil executives.

It’s almost like the Constitution doesn’t matter when it comes to corporate oil and gas rights, right?

If this is a Three Stooges election, then let’s give credit where it’s due.

You’ve got Curly, the Liberals, running around smacking themselves in the face trying to sound progressive while quietly appeasing developers and throwing working people scraps wrapped in red tape.

Moe, the Conservatives, is swinging a bat at the constitution like it’s a piñata — no concern for who gets hurt, so long as the money flows and the enemies of capital get punished.

And Larry? Well, the NDP is doing their best to show up with ideas even as leadership is in complete disarray, only to get poked in the eyes the minute they dream too big.

And the pundits? The streamers? The self-appointed referees of political “seriousness”? They’re not in the audience — they’re onstage, playing the straight man, mugging at the camera while the real joke plays out at our expense.

Because here’s the truth: it’s not “unserious” to fight for rent control, housing justice, or a national standard that says “your landlord shouldn’t be able to price-gouge you out of your home.”

What’s unserious is pretending we don’t already break constitutional norms every time it's profitable for the ruling class.

What’s unserious is letting corporate landlords essentially write housing policy.

What’s unserious is subsidizing pipelines and mega-projects while calling tenant protections “overreach.”

What’s unserious is a constitution that bends for capital but slams the door on basic dignity.

The lesson here isn’t that the NDP needs smaller ideas. It’s that we need a bigger fight, one that doesn’t bow to rules written by and for the people who benefit from our housing crisis, our healthcare patchwork, and our political stagnation.

If ambition from the left is always met with mockery, while ambition from the right is met with analysis and deference, we’re not having a policy debate — we’re watching a rigged game where the refs only call fouls on one team.

So yeah — laugh at the Stooges.

But don’t confuse the clown for the villain.

And don’t let the serious people tell you not to dream.

Because the future we need won’t come from technocrats who follow the rules — it’ll come from people bold enough to break them.

Share