Elbows Up as Performance Art By Cylon2036. We/Us
The announcement came with all the solemn grandeur of a wartime address. Prime Minister Carney, chest puffed proudly beneath a maple leaf the size of a studio apartment, announced Canada would stand on its own two feet, with no more over-reliance on the U.S.A.. No more increases in economic integration and no more continental dependency. This was a new era, an “Elbows Up, Canada First” doctrine in which the nation would reclaim its sovereignty, diversify its partnerships, and chart an independent path through a dangerous world.
Then, moments later, Ottawa signed a giant cheque to buy another 100 American fighter jets. Not just any fighter jets, of course, but several billions of Canadian tax dollars spent on U.S. made F-35 stealth aircraft so technologically sophisticated that it reportedly requires a software update every time a pilot sneezes. A marvel of engineering, diplomacy, and recurring invoices, the F-35 is less a plane than a lifelong subscription service with wings. The symbolism was exquisite.
Canada had apparently decided that the best way to reduce dependence on the United States was to purchase dozens and dozens of flying supercomputers whose maintenance, software, parts, logistics, training, upgrades, and operational doctrine would bind Canada to the American defence system until approximately the heat death of the universe. This is independence in the modern age, proudly decoupling from your neighbour while buying the military equivalent of an iPhone that only the neighbour can unlock.
Government ministers explained that this was entirely consistent with the new nationalist posture. Canada, they insisted, was not becoming more dependent on America, it was becoming “strategically interoperable.” This sounded reassuring until someone pointed out that “strategically interoperable” is what people say when they can no longer legally use the phrase “joined at the hip.” Still, the messaging remained confident.
Canada would build resilient domestic industries and protect Canadian workers, prioritizing Canadian autonomy. The jets, meanwhile, would arrive from Texas while officials clarified that there was no contradiction whatsoever. The “Canada First” policy did not mean Canada would stop buying American products, it merely meant Canada would buy American products more patriotically.
Besides, supporters argued, the F-35 wasn’t just an aircraft purchase. It was an investment in sovereignty. True sovereignty, apparently, means ensuring your air force cannot function without access to a Pentagon-approved supply chain, proprietary American software, and a contractor support system sprawling across seventeen U.S. congressional districts. One advisor reportedly described the arrangement as “independent dependence.”
Critics complained that the optics were awkward. On Monday, the government denounced excessive integration with the United States, and by Wednesday, it had committed billions to a weapons platform specifically designed for deeply integrated NATO and NORAD operations under overwhelming American command architecture. But Ottawa remains undeterred.
In fact, officials leaned harder into the nationalist branding. There was talk of painting giant maple leaves on the fuselages. One minister suggested the aircraft could be renamed the “CF-Eh-35” to better reflect Canadian values. Another floated the idea of replacing the cockpit warning alarms with polite bilingual apologies. Military planners were practical about the whole thing. Canada, they insisted, shares a continent, airspace, supply chains, intelligence systems, and defense obligations with the United States, claiming integration is unavoidable.
Which raises the uncomfortable question, if integration is unavoidable in defence, perhaps it is also unavoidable in economics, energy, manufacturing, technology, culture, and trade. Fortunately, nobody wants to discuss that. The important thing is preserving the emotional experience of independence. And in fairness, Canada has always excelled at this particular balancing act by loudly differentiating itself from the U.S., while quietly plugging into every available American system. It is the national equivalent of insisting you are absolutely not copying your neighbour’s homework while submitting an assignment written in the neighbour’s handwriting. The F-35 purchase simply elevated the tradition to performance art.
The result was a masterpiece of modern middle-power strategy with anti-integration speeches delivered beneath the roar of imported stealth fighters whose operating manuals are stored on a server in Virginia. Elbows up, indeed, though preferably not high enough to interfere with the data link to Washington.
