The Russian word “derzhavnost” is usually translated as “great power status,” but the real meaning is closer to the gangland concept of “respect.” The word was beyond the reach of my feeble Russian vocabulary until I heard it about 20 times in 20 minutes while interviewing an ultranationalist ideologue called Aleksandr Dugin about 20 years ago.

He was then popularly known as “Putin’s brain,” although his role was always to provide philosophical justifications for what the Russian dictator wanted to do anyway, not to give him policy guidance. Vladimir Putin already had the attitudes of somebody who grew up poor and short on the mean streets of Leningrad, where “respect” meant everything.

Dugin is still around, although he is probably no longer in close touch with Putin. But he’s still in play, and CNN interview last March, he claimed that Trump’s America has a lot more in common with Putin’s Russia than most people think: “The followers of Trump will understand much better what Russia is, who Putin is and the motivations of our politics.”

Well, yes, of course. As the Kremlin spokesman said of Trump’s new National Security Strategy, published two weeks ago, “The adjustments that we see correspond in many ways to our vision.” That vision is a deeply traditional version of nationalism which includes the conviction that the great powers have the right to command all the others.

AS the Carney government announces a raft of nation-building projects ranging from new oil and gas pipelines to critical minerals to port expansion, one obvious economic opportunity is missing from the list: expansion of our recreational chemical industry.

Others disparage the product as illegal drugs, but the industry consortium, the Earthways Alliance, promotes the term recreational chemical. Just like “tar sands” creates negative brand equity for the fossil fuel industry (hence oil sands), so too do the tired, old terms “illegal” or “illicit” drugs. It casts a bad light.

With economic development at the fore, one must look at all opportunities, especially now that Mr. Carney allows ministers of his government to ignore existing laws and regulations standing as roadblocks. So we should look south to Colombia, a country only slightly larger than Canada (51 million versus 41 million population) where 4.3 per cent of its GDP is derived from the export of cocaine, compared to just 3.2 per cent of Canada’s GDP derived from oil and gas.

Canada could easily become a recreational chemical superpower, providing “clean” cocaine for the rest of the world. Our state-of-the-art facilities would meet every green standard using organic coca plants raised in greenhouses heated by natural gas, a boon to the fossil fuel industry. The finished product would be made not in clandestine makeshift laboratories, but in safe, government-licensed manufacturing plants, providing high paying jobs.

While I was on a vacation in Victoria a few years ago, I was told to check out the home of my friend’s family member on Trutch Street.

British Columbia has recently taken significant steps to improve public protection and patient safety in their health-care system.

Over the past few years, British Columbia has turned its attention to how the professional health regulatory system can be more attuned to patient safety issues. A report by the British Columbia ombudsperson found that regulatory college boards “do not appear to have fully accepted or understood what it means to act in the public interest.”

In 2018, Harry Cayton, an expert in health profession regulation, identified several problems with the B.C. regulatory framework including “the construction of college boards, a lack of relentless focus on patient safety, and secrecy into the complaints, among other things.”

Cayton’s findings align with Ontario’s Goudge report which concluded that their medical complaint system provided “little apparent benefit to the public in terms of better or safer patient services.”

The U.S. has dominated the rules-based global order for the past 75 years. But now, Washington “has chosen to walk away from the international system,” Ian Bremmer, head of the Eurasia Group, said recently in his annual state-of-the-world speech. “Not because it’s weak, not because it has to — because it wants to.”

It’s a bizarre historical precedent. And the implications for the global balance of power will be profound.

Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine approaches its fourth year shrouded in uncertainty. A corruption scandal has rocked Ukraine’s government, forcing President Volodymyr Zelenskyy’s chief of staff to resign. Kyiv is meanwhile scrambling to stall White House negotiators from brazenly tilting ceasefire talks in Vladimir Putin’s favour. The Russian leader refuses to compromise, convinced he is winning on the battlefield.

Indeed, Russian forces are advancing but at glacial speed. The Kremlin is achieving this partly through strengthening drone capabilities. But also, maintaining a grotesque disregard for its troops, mindlessly throwing them into the buzzsaw of Ukraine’s AI-powered defences. Ukrainian authorities say Russia is now losing 1,000 soldiers a day to gain less than five kilometres of territory per month.

It’s unfortunate that the nuclear industry’s PR machine continues to mislead the media and the public.

Ten years ago this week, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada released its final report, a landmark document that laid bare truths that First Nations have known for generations.

Age-gating is the process of restricting user access to online content based on a user’s age. This is a responsible and necessary function of government to protect our youngest citizens.