You’ve probably heard someone call Canada boring. You may have even been the one saying it. I know I used to when my childhood dreams all included moving down south to America, the land of opportunity — or so I thought.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve come to appreciate our country for what it is: beautiful, unique, and fascinating. What does interest me, though, is why so many people still think this way, the way I did so many years ago. What’s behind Canada’s boring reputation? What does it say about our culture, our nationhood, and, most importantly, about us?
If you can still remember your high school social studies classes, you probably recall the collective groan that came over the class whenever Canadian history came up. Studying Europe, you learn about the Roman Empire, the Black Plague, the Crusades; for our neighbour to the south, you’ve got the Civil War, huge battles in World War II, the Cuban Missile Crisis.
As soon as you get to Canada, though, discussing such topics as Confederation or how we got our constitution in 1982, the complaining starts. Compared to the rest of the world, Canadian history just doesn’t seem to cut it.
The same goes with politics — when the American elections come rolling by, you will surely hear more than a few passionate discussions about it here in the north (mostly demonizing the Republicans and showering love on Obama, since this is still Canada). However, during Canadian elections, it’s easy to forget they’re even happening. Barely anyone talks about them.
Probably our most common stereotype is that we’re nice, which isn’t exactly the most exciting cultural trait in the book.
Aside from maybe a few anti-Harper jabs by fellow students, I remember being shocked at how little people seemed to care about the 2011 Canadian election, which had much more bearing on our nation than the Obama vs. Romney feud a year later. Over 40 per cent of eligible Canadian voters didn’t even bother to vote.
Not to mention that, as some people love to argue, Canada doesn’t really have much of a unified culture, or, at the most, a very boring one fuelled mostly by hockey and beer. Probably our most common stereotype is that we’re nice, which isn’t exactly the most exciting cultural trait in the book.
If you type “Canada most boring country” into Google, you will find some rather interesting results. These range from satire to serious criticism of not only Canadian culture and politics, but Canadians themselves. Sometimes, we’re even the ones calling ourselves boring. What gives? Is Canada really that uninteresting? And if so, can we do anything to spice up our national image?
Nicolas Kenny, a professor of Canadian and Quebecois history at SFU, doesn’t necessarily think that our country’s history is more boring than others’ — he simply thinks it’s not as well known. “I think a lot of people like to throw that word [boring] around because Canada’s a smaller country in terms of population, and it’s a country that has maybe a less well-known history.
“We don’t have those big kind of Hollywood moments [in our history],” he explains.
After all, when’s the last time you saw a war movie where Canadians were the heroes? Compared to Americans, our role in the World Wars and other global conflicts seems pretty drab and colourless. Of course, this might have to do with our reputation for peacekeeping and non-violence, one that stands in contrast to the comparatively bloody history of the US and others.
Fellow SFU history professor Allen Seager proposes an alternate theory as to our supposedly boring history: he thinks the way our history has been presented is to blame. “In my view, this idea of Canadian history being boring has been imposed by historians and popularisers of history, including a very influential group of people responsible for school curriculum.”
According to Seager, Canadian history is made to look boring “to develop this idea of Canada as a functioning federation of a peaceable kingdom,” and to make sure that “students will get no other message than the folks in charge of our country have always known how to make the system work.” In Seager’s view, our government and our history as a colonial subject cause our textbooks to ignore the radicals and game changers, favouring the more low key elements of our past.
“The boredom theme is, to me, disempowering,” Seager says. “It’s meant to impose on the students the idea that our elders long ago, like our elders today, have got their act together.” To Seager, this is a fantasy: no government is quite as stable as it seems on the outside.
We may be less aware of our nation’s more colourful historical moments, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t happen — a quick look through the biographies of figures such as Louis Riel and John A. MacDonald prove that our history might be more interesting, and scandalous, than we thought.
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What is Canadian culture? Most would probably point to our cultural stereotypes: maple syrup, beavers, and lots of apologizing. However, there’s much more to our culture and nationality than what’s on the surface — and it goes far beyond sports and liquor.
Scores of great artists, comedians, actors, musicians, and other creatives have, at one time or another, called Canada home. Whether it be the music of Rush or The Guess Who, artists such as the Group of Seven and Emily Carr, filmmakers such as Atom Egoyan and David Cronenberg, or our amazing swath of comedians from Dan Akroyd to Jim Carrey, Canada has produced a lot of talent.
But, the key word here is produced. Jack Little, an SFU professor whose son is comedian Mark Little and whose daughter is an actress who studied in London, explains that Canada’s lack of cultural centres make it hard to make a living in the arts here.
“We don’t have cultural centres as exciting or as big as New York City, London or places like that,” he tells The Peak. “One of my two kids, he [Mark Little] has to go down to Los Angeles, he doesn’t make a living as a comedian in Canada. [. . .] They find a much broader venue for their kind of talents in a place like London or LA. In Vancouver, and the west coast in particular, it’s a struggle for people involved in the arts.”
Our sparse and relatively small population might be to blame for the lack of artistic opportunities in the Great White North — but that still doesn’t explain away the claim that we have no culture whatsoever. Among other complaints found on the web, two of the most common argue that there is no distinct Canadian cuisine, and no identifiable Canadian style.
Moreover, many complain that most of our pop culture is imported over the border, an argument that dates back to the creation of the CBC in 1936, established mainly to promote Canadian content in lieu of the American programs which, at the time, dominated the airwaves.
“I’m concerned about the degree to which we swallow American popular culture wholesale,” Little notes. “And even though my students are claiming a strong sense of Canadian identity, it’s very difficult for them to tell me how they are different from Americans.”
Little says the lack of an identifiable Canadian culture is the result of our values, which promote our nation as a cultural mosaic. “Canada is a country which doesn’t have a very strong cultural identity,” he says, “partly because we’re French and English, so we’re divided there. Partly because we’re a country of immigrants, and we’re promoting multiculturalism.”
Instead of a core national identity, then, Canadians would rather value a set of diverse cultures, making for a varied and interesting — but ultimately difficult to define — place to live.
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When asked if there’s anything that separates us from other countries, Little says that “English Canadians define themselves as not Americans.” It turns out that for many, defining ourselves as the opposite of Americans is about as nationalistic as we get. After watching Olympic hockey matches between Canada and the US, it’s hard not to agree with this point.
Though our value of a complex cultural model is worthwhile, when it comes to a Canadian national identity, there’s certainly room for improvement. As Nicolas Kenny points out, both our history and politics are important factors in building a sense of national pride.
“I think it’s easy if you just dismiss [our history and politics] as being boring without taking the time to think about what’s going on, and why is it interesting,” Kenny explains. “I think it’s dangerous, because societies have a responsibility to understand where they came from, to know their past, to know their politics, to know what decisions are being made in their name, to know what impact they’re having on the world.
Wouldn’t you rather have a boring and undramatic history than a violent and destructive one?
“If we just say ‘Oh, it’s just boring,’ we run the risk of letting other people decide for us. To remain engaged in the world we need to know what our world is about and what our country’s role in that is and remain critical of it.” For Kenny, part of nationality is the ability to know and take pride in one’s country — and to make sure we’re building a Canada we want to live in.
To Kenny, who’s studied Canadian history for decades, our story is far from boring. “We have a really interesting story of people trying to make this place home,” he explains: one filled with rebellion, bravery, intrigue, and drama. Still, he warns us to be careful what we wish for. “You’ve got to be careful not to say the opposite of boring is something positive,” he reminds.
Sure, Canadian history might not be the most interesting, but what’s the flip side? I would rather have boring and undramatic than violent and destructive, wouldn’t you?
When it comes to politics, Canadian government goings-on tend to elicit the same bored shrugs as any of our other cultural mainstays. Sure, occasionally you get a Jack Layton or a Pierre Trudeau. Most of the time, though, our leaders are much less charismatic than American presidents or British royalty. Regardless of your views on Stephen Harper’s politics, it’s hard to argue he’d be fun at a party.
Though our politics aren’t exactly action packed, we have a responsibility to pay attention to what’s going on in our country. We in Canada have the right to vote, something many people around the world would consider a luxury. Whether or not you’re interested in what’s going on in Ottawa, unless you’re paying attention and exercising your right to make your voice heard in an election, you have no right to complain.
Even my friends who have strong opinions on Canadian politics still seem to view them as a bore. Sure, we don’t focus as much on the private lives of our MPs here — you’d be hard pressed to find a news story on Harper’s favourite TV show or favourite restaurant, even though stories like this about President Obama seem to pop up every second week. Canadian politics are different in that we’re focused on just that: the politics.
There are certainly issues, but we have a rather stable political system, and I personally prefer a system that’s boring but efficient. It’s nice to know we’re voting people in on more than a rousing speech or a charismatic personality. Some may complain, but when it comes to picking between exciting disorder and bland order, I’ll go for the latter every time.
Plus, there are plenty of groups out there advocating for increased youth participation in the Canadian democratic process. If you’re interested in looking at our political system in a fresh way, nonpartisan group Apathy is Boring is devoted to making our politics interesting for young voters in Canada. Their goal is to “build a sustainable dialogue between youth and elected officials” through social media campaigns and programs such as concerts, events, and democracy workshops. It’s nice to know that some still believe that our politics can be made interesting — even though it might be difficult.
It is hard to say whether something is boring, because meaning varies from person to person. One person’s paradise might make another man yawn. With that being said, those who think of Canada as boring could stand to learn a little more about it.
“I’m not really concerned with our image as Canadians,” Jack Little says. “You know — the image of being boring, or the fact that when you go to France or England, you never hear about Canada. I mean, usually you hear about places where there’s a lot of conflict.” Maybe a more low-key image isn’t so bad, after all.
Boring or not, Canada’s the best country in the world: it’s beautiful and full of life. I’m proud to be a citizen here, no matter what the rest of the world thinks.
So here’s to our nation’s 147th birthday: Happy Canada Day, everyone!
