What, Exactly, Just Happened to Justin Trudeau? A Canadian Explains in Brutal Detail.

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Every few years, Americans across the country are beleaguered with a Herculean task usually reserved for the sainted: They must think about Canada. On Monday, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau stepped down as the country and party leader, marking the end of a decade in power. (That’s a long time, but it’s still short of his dad’s 15 cumulative years in office.)

Normally, America gets to operate globally with main-character syndrome. But not this time! Victor Garber saw himself in the reflection of an ice-covered lake in southern Ontario, which means six more weeks of winter and a not-actually-that-surprising election that’ll change the course of the country. Let’s unpack what all of this actually means, and whether it matters to you, an American.

All right, I’ll bite: Who’s Justin Trudeau?

He’s the prime minister. Of Canada. Which is where all your wood comes from. We also gave you Keanu. We hope you’re happy.

So what happened to him?

This week, Trudeau announced that he would be stepping down as prime minister and as leader of the Liberal Party as soon as it picks his replacement. Parliament is now prorogued (suspended), as we Canadians like to say, until March 24. The current government will remain in power, but the work of Parliament is now screeching to a halt. This is different from merely dissolving Parliament, an act that would trigger an immediate election. Doing it this way means the Liberals have more time to actually run a leadership race to find Trudeau’s replacement. Perhaps they’ve learned a little something from watching American Democrats this past summer.

Prorogation is sometimes a controversial move made by prime ministers to avoid facing consequences: the Conservative Stephen Harper government used it to kill an inquiry on the treatment of Afghan detainees, and the Liberal Jean Chrétien government used it to sidestep a report on the 2002 sponsorship scandal.

Well, is it a controversial move this time? Why did Justin quit, anyway?

The funny thing about parliamentary politics is that it provides an avenue for all your colleagues to loudly and declaratively announce that they no longer believe in you. Imagine going to work and everyone’s just yelling, “NO ONE THINKS YOU CAN DO THIS ANYMORE.”

That’s essentially what happened to Trudeau in December, when his finance minister and deputy prime minister quit. Chrystia Freeland, a longtime Trudeau ally, put the blame squarely on him, saying she was “at odds” with his economic policy. Trudeau lost several Cabinet ministers following Freeland’s resignation, and the leader of the leftist New Democratic Party also announced that it would be joining in a nonconfidence vote. Even Trudeau’s allies don’t think he has the juice.

By that point, Trudeau’s options were limited: Either he could run it out and have Parliament dissolve under him because he had no support, or he could quit and give his party a fighting chance in the next federal election. Consider his quitting the more graceful option.

He seemed popular from afar. Was he?

Well, I guess that depends on if you’re asking my mother—who, after Trudeau resigned, texted me, “I won’t see my boyfriend on TV anymore”—or anyone else in the country. (Please keep my mom’s horniness in your prayers at this time.)

Recent polling otherwise suggests that people didn’t like him much. After sweeping the Liberals to victory in 2015, he saw his approval ratings get worse and worse, eventually landing at around 23 percent, just 1 point above the prime ministerial record low.

He’s been suffering from what liberal and centrist politicians across the world are suffering from: their own rigidity. The issue, ultimately, is that Trudeau just didn’t give anyone what they wanted. The Liberal Party didn’t offer Canadians a good enough plan for the future, especially as the cost of living becomes more and more untenable for people all over the country. Like a lot of centrist-democratic parties around the world (perhaps you know of one in America that recently lost an election?), the Liberals have failed to offer Canadians a vision of the future progressive enough for leftists or evil enough for hardcore conservatives. Most Canadians agreed with the Trudeau government on social issues, but most Canadians also want to comfortably buy a bag of frozen corn without getting boned by Galen Weston.

The real question is: What will all the people who make “Fuck Trudeau” bumper stickers do with all their free time now?

I know Justin Trudeau mostly as the hot prime minister. Is he still hot?

Yes, if you like a white man with a Haida tattoo on his shoulder, he’s “still” “hot.” Something for you and your therapist to unpack, very far away from me.

So when is the election?

It has to be before October, though it’ll probably be long before that. For now, the Liberals need to find a new leader, and trust me when I say the field is full of duds and bores. Just wait until you find out about the charisma black hole that is Mark Joseph Carney.

Rest assured, though, campaigning will be comparatively and blessedly brief: The average length of a Canadian election cycle is a mere 50 days. Much like a colonic, this will be over before you know it, and you’ll feel clean and empty and unsure of what happened while you were asleep.

Who will you be casting your absentee ballot for, Scaachi?

The options are pretty uninspired. At the moment, there’s Jagmeet Singh, the leader of the leftist NDP, but that’s another party that continues to disappoint progressives. It’s also not a big contender these days; the NDP is still polling just behind the Liberals.

The faction surging ahead is the Conservative Party, led since 2022 by Pierre Poilievre, a politician who looks like if Toad became an incel because Princess Peach didn’t put out after he helped save her from Bowser’s Castle. Poilievre wants to transform Canada into the “blockchain capital of the world,” defund the CBC, cut personal income tax, fan the flames of immigration anxiety, and chitchat with Jordan Peterson about racism. Last year, he was formally told to shut up in the House of Commons after he suggested that the foreign affairs minister was “pander[ing] to Hamas” because she insufficiently supported Israel.

Barring some major catastrophe for the Conservatives AND an incoming Liberal leader who somehow has name recognition and a plan for a party that’s been slowly eroding over the past decade, the current mood is that the Conservatives will win the election with Poilievre as prime minister. I’m personally not thrilled about having to share the title of “Most Famously Odious Person From Calgary,” but if he wins the election, I guess we can take turns wearing the tiara.

I heard Justin got divorced recently. What kind of divorced guy is he going to be when he isn’t distracted by his little hobby of running the country?

I would steer clear of Ottawa’s dimly lit date-night restaurants for at least 18 months.

What does this mean for me, a person who does not know where Medicine Hat is?

Honestly, it might mean something to you! Trump has been ranting about his nonsensical plan to impose a 25 percent tariff on Canada, a move that would violate the terms of the USMCA. It’ll also affect Americans, since 65 percent of the country’s crude oil comes from Canada.

What should I do with this information?

Depending on who becomes prime minister, they’ll be tasked with trying to get Trump to see a modicum of reason. Or maybe they’ll flop right over and let him go forth with his plan to turn their country into the 51^st state. That, I’m sure, will work—there’s nothing a Canadian loves more than being mistaken for an American. Try it. Go to any bar in the shittiest part of Edmonton and try it. The ensuing hospital visit will at least be free.

I trust that you’ll find a way to forget it immediately, as is your birthright.

I’m a Canadian who read this and have a specific, particular, and unnecessary quibble with your explainer. How can I contact you to argue about how well I know Canada, as is my birthright?

Sorry. I’ve lived stateside for six years, so I’ve adopted most Americanisms, namely a penchant for being right even if I’m not. See you on Family Day! I’ll bring the Clamato.

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