Our watch: humanism as resistance in Canada
By Janalee Morris
Canada has long prided itself on tolerance, stability and quiet progress. But is complacency becoming dangerous? Reflecting on the World Humanist Congress in Ottawa, Janalee Morris explores the challenges facing Canadian humanism, from religious nationalism to secular community-building, and calls for resistance rooted in action, solidarity and joy.
Janalee is Executive Director of Humanist Canada.
Polite, modest, and down-to-earth, Canada has always been the good neighbour who helps out on the world stage without stealing the spotlight. At this year’s Humanist Congress, one message rang out: quiet is no longer enough.
“Perhaps the most radical act of resistance in the face of adversity is to live joyfully.”
Iranian-American author Ari Honarvar’s words are a useful starting point, because they remind us that resistance is not only about what we tear down. It is also about the joy and community we choose to build.
The quiet neighbour wakes up
It's almost impossible to talk about Canadian resistance without looking south. For decades, Canadians have enjoyed a gentle superiority over our American neighbour: mocking its propaganda machine, rolling our eyes at its relentless capitalism, then happily consuming its media, vacationing at Disney World, and returning home to feel good about our public healthcare, our peacekeeping, our educated population, and our right to choose.
Even our founding principles differ. Where the American tradition promises “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness”, ours offers “peace, order, and good government”, a collectivist, stability-minded vision. But that stability can breed complacency, and we now have a front-row seat at the erosion of what was once a premier democracy.
The rise of Christian Nationalism in the United States seeks to use state power to enforce religious doctrine, targeting minority rights, climate science, and reproductive care. It would be dangerous to assume Canada is immune. Christian Nationalism is not about spirituality. It's “the cross and the sword”, a politics that puts dominion ahead of human rights. Its tactics are already taking root here:
In education and healthcare: book bans in school libraries, restricted sex education, attacks on gender-affirming care, and rollbacks of support for disabled persons and of access to Medical Assistance in Dying.
In democratic stability: extremist movements and resource-imperialist rhetoric that threaten Canadian sovereignty and confederation.
In climate policy: resistance to real climate action under the guise of geopolitical distraction, even as wildfires burn across the country.
Honesty at home
Resistance also demands internal honesty. Prime Minister Mark Carney recently called for “honesty about the world as it is” and the capacity to “stop pretending and name reality”. For Canadians, naming reality means looking hard at our own record.
Reconciliation: We cannot debate established harms. We must own the history of state-sponsored, church-run residential schools, where government policy dictated that generations of Indigenous children be taken from their homes and sent to be indoctrinated in the Christian faith. Acknowledgement is not enough; we must work toward genuine reparation. True humanism demands that we acknowledge our own human rights violations, from historic internment camps to the ongoing legacy of the residential school system, and refuse to let bad-faith actors debate colonial genocide under the banner of “critical inquiry”. Our critical thinking should be used to demand truth, reconciliation, and action.
Secular integrity: We must end religious privilege. Canada is estimated to fund religious organisations to the tune of $5.5 billion a year through direct subsidies and tax exemptions.
Constructive unity: Debates over laïcité and secularism models, including the national friction over Quebec’s Bill 21, which pits sanctioned secularism against total public neutrality, are real and complex. But secularism is not an attack on religion. It is the neutral ground that lets people of all faiths, and none, live together in peace. The numbers make the case for unity. As of 2026, over 40 per cent of Canadians identify as “religious nones”, and in British Columbia the figure tops 52 per cent. We cannot afford to fracture over nuance while Christian nationalist movements organise to dismantle the wall between church and state entirely. We have too much in common, and the stakes are too high.
A young movement finds its footing
Hosting the World Humanist Congress taught me, above all, that we are not alone. Canada is vast and sparsely populated, and it can feel as though there are no other humanists out there. There are.
Humanism is young in Canada. Humanist Canada has existed in some form since the 1950s, but it has waxed and waned with the times. It emerged, as many groups did, in the wake of the Second World War, and was solidified by our first president, Dr. Henry Morgentaler, in his fight to protect reproductive rights and access to abortion, alongside the civil rights movements of the 1960s and ‘70s.
Then came a lull. Those of us who grew up in the global north in the 1980s and ‘90s thought the most pressing problems were solved. We lived better than kings and queens of a few centuries ago (we had indoor plumbing, after all). We had democracy, access to education, and a general agreement that people are equal and shouldn’t be cruel to one another. Sure, there was work left to do. In Canada, the atrocities of residential schools and the broader discrimination against First Nations peoples were not yet part of public discourse, and beyond our borders there was poverty, war, and genocide to worry about. But the trajectory seemed obvious: upward, and any person in their right mind would see it and carry on.
That thinking bred complacency, even as Humanist Canada did good work. It built an outstanding Humanist Officiant program and advocated for abortion access, Medical Assistance in Dying, and the repeal of Canada’s blasphemy laws. A few years ago it established a Humanist Chaplaincy Training Program, and in 2023 the first Humanist Chaplain was admitted to the Canadian Armed Forces.
In the early 2000s, New Atheism gave secular movements fresh momentum. Without trivialising it, some seemed to believe that if we could only get rid of religion, our problems would be solved. But something was missing. When many people left religion, they lost not morality or meaning, as traditionalists like to claim, but a place to solidify their ethics and talk about morality, philosophy and the meaning of life. Into that space rushed material worship, with the shopping mall as destination and the endless acquisition of more stuff. For some it was tarot, psychics, and crystals. For others it was the type of belonging found in conspiracy groups, survivalist communities, and extremist viewpoints at both ends of the spectrum. What was missing was humanism.
From resisting to building
At the Congress, Humanist Canada Vice President Louis O’Reilly put it plainly: “We need your time, talent, and treasure.” Reading and discussing are not enough. We need to act. You know when people say, “Not on my watch!”? Well, look around. This is our watch. I call on humanists everywhere to step up as leaders.
Attend a local event, or start a local chapter.
Find out what the pressing issues for secular advocacy are in your area.
Keep tabs on Christian Nationalist movements, neo-Nazi movements, and the anti-women groups springing up around us. Shine a light on them and challenge them.
Showcase humanism as a viable alternative by talking about it with family, friends, neighbours and colleagues.
Get involved in advocacy, both on secular causes and on human rights more broadly.
Resistance that is only opposition will burn out. Resistance that builds community, offers meaning, and does so with joy is the kind that lasts. As Dolly Parton put it, “We can’t just hope for a brighter day, we have to work for a brighter day.”
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