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Commentary, Opinion

Francois Legault’s climate policy is an unforced error

Anxious about his plummeting approval rating, Quebec Premier François Legault is shrinking away from one of his strongest positions: Fighting climate change. Earlier this month, Legault’s government announced it will end funding for the Climate Action Barometer (CAB), an annual survey that allows Quebecers to voice their opinions about their municipal, provincial, and federal governments’ environmental policies. 

Curtailing this communication channel removes agency from a populace that has been clamouring for climate action. Meanwhile, Legault has hinted at more potential rollbacks—such as cutting the gasoline tax—at a time when climate action policies need to be front and centre.

Annual average surface temperatures are rapidly rising, and the frequency of extreme weather events is increasing. Tropical storm Debby was a brutal reminder of this for Quebecers. In 2024, the freak inland tropical storm killed an elderly man and became the costliest weather event in the province’s history

By ending the democratic outlet that the CAB provided, Legault alienates his constituents. Most CAB respondents support climate action; in response, he chooses to throw the survey out. This is not just a poor policy choice—Legault is silencing a mechanism that allows citizens to hold their government accountable.

However, it does not have to be this way. Working with Quebecers to implement climate action is a ripe opportunity for Legault to regain some of the public faith he has lost, and it is imperative in the context of rampant global warming.

One of the shining stars of the Legault government has been its energy in fighting climate change. Thanks to his government’s investments, Quebecers around the province—from pilots-in-training in Gatineau to CEGEP teachers in Montreal—have tested commuting on electric bicycles through Equiterre’s Velovolt Program

Last year, the Fonds d’action québécois pour le développement durable (FAQDD) provided $1.5 million CAD to support thousands of farmers in a collaborative project called Agriclimat, which helps farmers adapt to climate change and modify their farming techniques to lower carbon emissions. 

This progress has sparked international acclaim, notably for Quebec’s hydroelectric power system and research on circular economies of reuse.

If battling climate change has been such a bright spot for Legault, then why is he retreating from it?

The answer is affordability. He wants to recoup his losses in favourability with Quebec residents who are frustrated by his spending mistakes, like the $1.1 billion CAD spent on the well-over-budget SAAQclic project, and the $500 million CAD spent on the never-built Northvolt factory. In response, Legault is attempting to make a big deal of cutting the CAB, which costs one five-thousandth the cost of that nonexistent Northvolt factory. This is a mistake—for Legault and for the environment whose preservation he is choosing to neglect. 

Counter to Legault’s rhetoric about affordability, cuts in environmental programs, such as the CAB, do not rest on sound economic logic. 

Taking public transportation costs half as much as driving, and biking costs only one-seventh the cost of driving. Quebecers’ electricity bills are the cheapest in the nation—and it is not close. Environmentally-friendly options are often cheaper for individuals than high-emission ones, so building up eco-friendly options would make life more affordable for everyday people.

The strong support for climate action shown in the CAB study results should—and still could—be great news for François Legault. His government has a track record of delivering on community-focused environmental projects, so he should capitalize on this opportunity to further Quebecers’ climate priorities.

Quebec has worked hard to integrate clean energy and multimodal transportation, making many everyday necessities more affordable for residents while fighting for our planet.
Legault must not turn his back on his own progress. Defunding the CAB is detrimental to his party, his constituents, and the democratic process in which they participate, not to mention the environment as a whole, which is deteriorating and in need of swift action. Legault should play to his strengths and continue to set the pace for clean energy, sustainability, and public engagement in climate action.

Art, Arts & Entertainment, Music

Breaking ground at new creative collective’s defiant art-expo and rave

I was whisked into Concrete Breaks’ Communal Art-Expo and Rave on Oct. 23 by heavy bass thrumming under my feet and a crush of people bottlenecking behind me. Once through the doors, bright projections of cityscapes flashed to my right while a diverse array of prints and poetry lined the walls to my left. To the far end of the st. Laurent bar Barbossa, the density of event-goers increased until they formed a dancing mass, all crowded in front of one of the rave’s string of DJs. 

Concrete Breaks is an offshoot of Nina Rossing, Matt Pindera, and Luke Pindera’s initial creative endeavour Pacific Breaks, “a grass-roots electronic music collective” in Vancouver, which similarly hosted a rave. According to their mission statement, Pacific Breaks aimed to “reinvigorate Vancouver’s rave scene with innovative, open-air events and cutting-edge sounds.”

Concrete Breaks wields much loftier goals, evident from its name, which strays from a specific place and instead describes a geographically universal breaking from stasis. In an interview with The Tribune, co-organizer Nina Rossing described the globality of this event, noting artists from Denmark to Toronto. The cosmopolitan nature of the expo aligns with one of its cardinal themes: Connection. 

Another facet of the art-expo rave’s broader scope lies in its name, the event being an amalgam of many art forms, breaking beyond just sound. Concrete Breaks sent out a call for ‘All Medium/All Voices,’ the only directive being that pieces tackle the themes of dystopia, resistance and connection. This expansive breadth of forms came together at Barbossa to produce a mode of art that was completely novel. 

The DJ’s beat shook the floor of the bar, causing the videos on the walls to fizzle at the edges while red rave lights cast prints on the wall in new shades. Each piece of art did not merely exist alone in the space, but instead all multiplied to form one new piece of which we were all a part. 

Rossing reflected on what she and her team hoped to achieve through the event’s vast array of media. 

“I think it’s just creating humanity. […] The beauty of being human and the beauty of art and of hope, and the power that it holds,” she said.

The night’s goal of humanity was achieved tenfold, with tables sprawled with pens and sticky notes for attendees to place their art alongside the selected artists, a gallery space loud not from music but from conversation, and a dancefloor bouncing beneath jigging bodies.  

Concrete Breaks undertakes a return to humanity, especially imperative in our current zeitgeist. As society moves towards extremist radicalization, forging simple connections feels unreachable—people become friends with artificial intelligence or strangers on subreddits. 

Rossing emphasized the importance of resisting such a world of alienation.

“We need to connect more, and with that, we become super powerful, and we can turn bad things into good things,” Rossing said. 

Fellow organizer Luke Pindera similarly commented on the importance of the Concrete Breaks’ ideology in this moment. He told The Tribune in an interview that they “want to represent something positive amidst this […] world of chaos.”

Rossing, both Pinderas, the artists, and the attendees came together last Thursday to do just that: Create positivity and good. Everyone gathered, interacted, danced, and left feeling fuller than when they entered. 

The defiant art exposition, alight with inspiration and connection, presents a fresh perspective on the importance of coming together and pushing towards resistance. As proclaimed by Pindera, Concrete Breaks goes beyond just a collective; he described it to The Tribune in terms of a way of life. In this fissured world, perhaps we should take up their mantle: Look down and see how we may break the concrete upon which we tread. 

Commentary, Opinion

Nobody is running for mayor! The death of municipal democracy in Quebec

On Nov. 2, Quebec will hold municipal elections—though in 87 cities throughout the province, the results of these elections are already decided. In the 2025 Quebec municipal election cycle, over 4,500 municipal candidates ran unopposed. In a process known as acclamation, candidates who are running unopposed bypass the election cycle and are automatically awarded the title. One of these constituencies is Terrebonne, a city of more than 120,000 residents. If Canada wants to maintain its democratic capacity at all three levels of government, then federal leaders need to treat municipal government with equal importance as they do provincial and federal governments

If nobody is running against incumbents, maybe constituents are simply happy with their current municipal leaders. That is what Terrebonne mayor Mathieu Traversy believes, and in his case, it might even be true. Traversy is a well-liked mayor and has a diversity of political viewpoints in his government. Nonetheless, he still ought to have an opponent for the sake of democracy. 

It is abnormal for a city the size of Terrebonne to have zero competition in a mayoral race. In 2021, three candidates ran for mayor, and four candidates ran in 2017. The lack of competition for Mayor Traversy is a sign of political apathy and a weakening of local democracy. In a representative democracy, the primary way for citizens to influence policy is through elections. Without elections, representative democracy fails to give its citizens a voice. Without a civic voice, democracy does not exist. In Terrebonne, there is no election, and consequently, no democracy.

While uncontested elections are concerning in cities like Terrebonne, they become even more troubling in small towns where municipal government roles are often thankless jobs. Faced with mounting tasks, these mayors often get lambasted on social media for minor problems that they have little power to fix. Yet, election by acclamation is most common in these districts. Of smaller municipalities in Quebec, almost a quarter of districts with less than 2,000 people elected an all-incumbent council this cycle. Normand Marin, former mayor of Pointe-Lebel in the Côte-Nord region, describes rural mayoralty as an impossible task because mayors of small towns tend to be overworked and criticized heavily on social media. The meagre salary makes the job even less desirable.

With immense censure and low salaries, it is no mystery why there are so few candidates for municipal politics. In the Chaudières-Appalaches region, four municipalities—Sainte-Cyrille-de-Lessard, Saint-Benjamin, Lac-Frontière, and Saint-Phillibert—currently have no mayoral candidates. Yet a robust democracy, especially at the municipal level where every vote counts, is reliant upon competition. The question, then, is how to make small-town leadership sustainable and appealing to would-be political candidates.

One potential solution for some of these smaller municipalities could be to merge with neighbouring towns. A municipality such as Saint-Phillibert, which is closer to larger towns, could easily be added to the municipality of either Saint-Prosper or Saint-Georges. Declining local autonomy would be a necessary trade-off, as Saint-Georges has almost 33,000 people and a budget to match. Many of the administrative duties of a mayor could be absorbed by a larger, better-resourced municipal administration.

However, municipal mergers are not viable for every community. If Lac-Frontière merged with its neighbouring municipality, Sainte-Lucie-de-Beauregard, the new territory would span over 130 square kilometres with a combined population of just 450 constituents. Merging such remote, sparsely populated areas would only intensify logistical challenges, as servicing a large, spread-out region is far more difficult than managing a compact community. Combining two municipalities of such a small size would only exacerbate the problems that sparsely populated municipalities already face.

Although merging municipalities represents a compelling potential solution to the crisis of Quebec’s uncompetitive municipal elections, the deeper issue is that local governments are chronically underfunded and understaffed. Government programs to mobilize capable university graduates into voting in municipal elections could offer a means to improve the province’s democratic capacity. 

The provincial government cannot force people to run for office, but it can make running for office more appealing. A first step would be to properly fund and staff rural communities by bringing municipal government to parity with the provincial and federal levels.

Arts & Entertainment, Film and TV

A spooky sitcom season

Do you fundamentally refuse to be scared out of your skin for so-called ‘entertainment’ this Halloween season? Have you seen The Nightmare Before Christmas one too many times? Yes and yes again? That’s what I thought. But don’t worry; the Halloween season has more to offer than inspiration for your very own sleep-paralysis demon and overdone, over-hyped, over-Halloweened content. It’s the end of October, and I am pleased to welcome you to the season of spiders, skeletons, and sitcoms.

Brooklyn Nine-Nine

These Halloween episodes are famous, and for good reason. With a ‘Halloween Heist’ in every season, the squad competes to be in possession of a selected object by midnight, with the winner being crowned ‘an amazing detective/genius.’ These episodes contain some of the most elaborately ridiculous heist plans of all time—from stuffing pigeons into air vents and filling the precinct with characters from The Handmaid’s Tale to hiring previously-arrested criminals as co-conspirators—and the most intense rivalries. Watch a Brooklyn Nine-Nine Halloween Heist episode for Charles Boyle’s (Joe Lo Truglio) terrible and forever un-guessable costumes, outrageous thievery, and to watch friendships be temporarily put aside in the name of glory.

The Office
Season 2, episode 5 of The Office brings the reality of a scary Halloween into the workplace. Michael faces the terrifying task of having to fire someone while everyone else prepares for a Halloween party. Michael Scott (Steve Carell) acts as the Halloween Scrooge, and the real scare comes from the decision he must make. This episode reminds us that navigating adulthood is actually the spookiest part of any season.

Friends

Friends is a staple sitcom for a reason, and its Halloween episode is no exception. Rachel Green (Jennifer Aniston) may or may not start writing children’s cheques after she runs out of candy, Phoebe Buffay (Lisa Kudrow) may or may not end an engagement, and the costumes—well, I guarantee they’re worse than yours. I don’t want to spoil too much for those of you who are planning a Friends marathon this sitcom season, so all I’ll say is: Pink. Fluffy. Bunny. Oh, and potato. If you want to be able to treat Halloween as a more-or-less regular day, this is the show for you. It’s lighthearted and fun—the only spooky part is the notion of marrying someone you’ve known for two weeks—making it a great choice for those who are ready for Halloween to be over already.

Superstore

Superstore is a lesser-known sitcom, or so I’ve been led to believe. But whether you’ve heard of it or not, its Halloween episode is worth a watch. Everyone shows up in costume, except for the company’s resident rule-follower, Dina Fox (Lauren Ash). Dina gets, as you might expect, peer-pressured into dressing up. But she changes into a particularly revealing cop costume. Cue the chaos. Suddenly, everyone’s workplace archnemesis is alluring? If you ever reminisce over middle-school friendship dynamics—or just revel in watching middle-school-esque situations play out—then I promise you will be entertained. Her outfit, combined with rumours that someone may or may not have a crush on someone else, makes the perfect storm for those of you who love to revel in the knowledge that you left high school behind years ago.
If you enjoy any singular aspect of the horror movie experience, you and I are clearly two entirely separate types of people. But you’d best believe that if I’m watching anything on Halloween, it’ll be a sitcom. I’ll laugh and sigh and be unspeakably grateful that Monica Geller (Courteney Cox) won’t ever buy me a Halloween costume.

Montreal, News

Culture Shock 2025: QPIRG hosts workshop exploring Milton-Parc’s hostile urbanism

On Oct. 23, the Quebec Public Interest Research Group (QPIRG) McGill hosted the “Walking as method: Exploring hostile design in Milton-Parc” workshop as part of its annual Culture Shock event series. This exploration was led by Cara Chellew, PhD candidate in McGill’s School of Urban Planning, as well as Jonathan Lebire, co-founder of coaching organization Agence Dragonfly.

The event kickstarted at QPIRG’s office on av. du Parc, with a group of around 15 people making their way to the street’s intersection with rue Prince-Arthur Ouest. Chellew pointed out bright white light bulbs placed above benches at the intersection. 

“Across the street, there’s another light, and you’ll see […] it’s actually blinking,” she observed. “For the longest time, I thought it was malfunctioning. [….] [But] it’s blinking very steadily. It’s been happening for a couple months now. [….] These interventions are meant to really target certain behaviours like trying to sit too long or sleep in public.”

Chellew continued to explain why these acts of hostile urbanism—architectural attempts to restrict certain social groups from enjoying public spaces—are meant to be kept subtle and unnoticeable. 

“Often when [hostile urbanism is] really noticeable, […] there’s outrage, rightfully so, and then sometimes, things get removed,” she said. “[Hostile urbanism] is meant to target these kinds of behaviours, but also not be very noticeable to everyday people.”

The group then ventured inside Les Galéries du Parc, where Lebire highlighted the neighbourhood’s lack of third places.

“You want to cry, you want to yell, […] something bad happened in your life, you don’t want to be seen crying. You’re going to transit to your house as soon as you can. But normally there should be what you call ‘third spaces,’ […] to kind of temper having a bad day at the job,” Lebire said. “There should be a way to use this architecture to make sure people have places to take a minute.”

Chellew then added that spaces where people cluster and socialize are crucial to a neighbourhood’s quality of living. She then talked about the intersection of av. du Parc and rue Milton, where an abandoned lot has been heavily restricted to keep Milton-Parc’s unhoused population out, effectively depriving them of third places.

“We’re purposely not going down [av. du Parc] because I want to give our friends a little bit of privacy,” she said. “There’s this lot that folks used to hang out [at]. [….] I call it ‘ground zero’ because it’s really the most heavily fortified spot in the neighbourhood. It just shows every little space here […] is restricted from people accessing [it].”

Chellew and Lebire continued the tour, pointing out benches that were designed to be uncomfortable, with unnecessary armrests meant to keep sleepers away. Such benches could be found at intersections of rue Sherbrooke and rue Jeanne-Mance, and rue Sherbrooke and rue St.-Urbain.

The tour ended at Jardins du Monde et des Premières Nations at the corner of rue St.-Urbain and rue Milton, as Chellew encouraged McGill students to look out for signs of hostile urban planning.

“There are certain things that you can kind of look out for. When you’re checking out a space, are there places to sit? Does the space feel comfortable? Does it feel uncomfortable for some reason? Why is it uncomfortable? Is it too bright or too loud?” she emphasized.

In an interview with The Tribune, Joseph Liang, the Students’ Society of McGill University (SSMU) Popular Education Events Coordinator, explained that this year’s Culture Shock aims to examine the McGill and Montreal community’s relations to the land through various anti-oppressive perspectives.

“For example [.…] with the Migrant Justice Panel [Culture Shock event], we look at land in terms of […] border regimes that are imposed on land,” they said. “I think [this land theme] is particularly relevant in the context that we’re living in. The settler-colonial occupation that we see happening in Palestine, that is fundamentally an issue of land, an issue of occupation of land. Here in Quebec, the PL 97 was a law that granted a lot of [Indigenous] land in northern Quebec to forestry companies. [….] I think land is sort of at the center of a lot of struggles that we are seeing right now.”

Behind the Bench, Soccer, Sports

Losing the world’s game: FIFA’s ongoing ticket crisis

In anticipation of the Fédération Internationale de Football Association’s (FIFA) 2026 World Cup, excitement for soccer’s biggest competition turned into anger from fans unable to afford tickets, highlighting public dissatisfaction with FIFA’s current ticketing model. 

Beginning on June 11, the 2026 World Cup will take place in 16 cities across Canada, the United States, and Mexico. On Sept. 10, 2025, FIFA—soccer’s official governing body—released the first phase of tickets via a lottery system. It was no surprise that the tickets were a hot commodity, with over 4.5 million applicants lined up for the initial ticket release. But FIFA’s phased and dynamic ticketing system has faced significant criticism for excluding true fans, from the public and local politicians alike. With a growing demand and no price cap on tickets, the dynamic system has the potential to raise the costs of attending to an astonishing price unaffordable for many. 

The current ticket process FIFA is using for the upcoming World Cup involves multiple phases. The initial pre-sale draw on Sept. 10 has been followed by a four-phase release that will conclude in 2026. FIFA has launched tickets for tournament games priced in four different categories, with Category 4 comprising the cheapest seats in the upper levels of stadiums, and Category 1 including the most expensive, located closest to the field. Additionally, fans can purchase venue-specific and team-specific packages for the group stage, or the first round of the tournament matches. 

Due to the demand for certain high-profile games, dynamic pricing will continue to raise the cost of these tickets closer to gameday. The cheapest ticket to the opening match is $784 CAD, and for the World Cup Final, the cheapest ‘get-in’ price runs at an exorbitant $2,842 CAD. Furthermore, no tickets are exclusively allocated for local fans. Once the official group stage draw happens on Dec. 5 in Washington DC, the World Cup’s schedule will be finalized. This means that once the matches are confirmed in each host city, the dynamic model will fluctuate prices further. 

Zohran Mamdani, New York City’s Democratic mayoral nominee, has been a leading voice in criticizing FIFA’s ticket pricing policy. Launching the Game Over Greed petition in September, he has actively called for FIFA to end its current dynamic pricing model. His petition demands a price cap on resale tickets and a 15 per cent discount for local fans, which would counteract the 15 per cent charge FIFA has imposed on sellers and buyers using its official ticket resale website.

The current World Cup ticket prices limit the opportunity for lower-income communities to attend the now-unaffordable games. This concern extends beyond fans in host nations: For global supporters, the price of a match ticket, in addition to travel costs, has left many unable to cheer on their country in person. Members of the England Fans’ Embassy have criticized ticket prices, advocating for ticket allocations for fans not affected by dynamic pricing.   

FIFA has a history of prioritizing financial gain over the love of the game in its decision-making. In December 2010, Russia was selected to host the 2018 World Cup, and Qatar was chosen to host the 2022 World Cup, despite claims that senior FIFA officials had received bribes in exchange for host nominations. No further investigation was conducted into the Russia and Qatar bids. In May 2015, seven FIFA officials were arrested on racketeering, fraud, and money laundering charges spanning over 24 years. The 2026 World Cup ticket debacle reflects this extensive history of FIFA valuing money to a criminal extent, even over the voices of soccer fans. 

With the tournament on the horizon, there is still plenty to be done. FIFA’s current ticket model misses what makes the Cup so special. From New York City to Mexico City, to the world’s most multicultural city, Toronto, FIFA must ensure a fan base from each of these urban hubs can attend games. By valuing profit over pride, FIFA blocks the excitement and joy that these thousands of fans could bring to the tournament’s atmosphere, which is what truly makes tickets worth paying for. 

Commentary, Opinion

Canada must criminalize coerced sterilization and confront its propagation of colonial violence

In 2005, Montreal practitioners performed a nonconsensual hysterectomy on Quebec Senator Amina Gerba, resulting in irreversible infertility. Gerba would not learn she had undergone this procedure—a clear violation of her medical rights and autonomy—until over a decade later, when, during an unrelated procedure, her gynecologist discovered she lacked a uterus. This phenomenon, known as coerced or forced sterilization, constitutes an international human rights violation and has been perpetrated against women—particularly of marginalized backgrounds—throughout Canada since the 1800s. 

Despite centuries of evidence of nonconsensual hysterectomies, Canada has failed to criminalize this violating, dangerous practice. The persistence of forced sterilization testifies to how systemic anti-Blackness and colonial violence continue to shape Canadian healthcare systems, propagating the denial of Black and Indigenous women’s reproductive autonomy. 

Senator Gerba shared her story when testifying in support of Bill S-228, an act to amend the Criminal Code that would criminalize coerced sterilization in Canada. An equivalent bill—Bill S-250—was introduced to and passed by the Senate in 2024. However, the proroguing of Parliament in advance of the 2025 Federal Election forced the termination of the bill before it reached House debate. 

Bill S-228 brings forced sterilization to the forefront of the legislative agenda, opening a window for overdue systemic change: Affording //legal// reproductive rights to women across Canada. In her testimony, Senator Gerba noted the intersectional nature of prejudices against Black and Indigenous women in the Canadian healthcare system, particularly in regard to gynecological interventions. In healthcare settings, medical students and practitioners alike frequently dismiss the pain of Black women patients due to the harmful and racist misconception that Black women have a higher pain tolerance. Such misinformation amounts to an undeniable truth: North American healthcare institutions are failing Black women. 

Indigenous women have also been the historic and current targets of this procedure. In the 1970s, Canadian practitioners facilitated approximately 1,200 cases of coerced sterilization of Indigenous women as part of a broader eugenic, colonial effort to eliminate Indigenous persons. By systematically sterilizing Indigenous women without their consent, these practitioners—acting on behalf of the colonial state—sought not only to control individual bodies but to exterminate future generations of Indigenous peoples. This practice amounts to one of the five acts encompassed within legal definitions of genocide: The deliberate imposition of measures intended to prevent births within a group. 

The UN Committee Against Torture issued a statement in 2018 calling on Canada to end this abhorrent practice. Yet Bill S-228 remains under debate, and organizations like Amnesty International Canada continue to observe extensive evidence that the practice persists today. 

In Quebec, 35 Atikamekw women have brought forward a class action lawsuit against the Centre intégré de santé et de services sociaux de Lanaudière (CISSS) for forced sterilization, citing at least 22 cases of the procedure between 1980 and 2019. Some of these women were misinformed, told sterilization was reversible. Others were falsely told that the health of their future children could be at risk should they fail to undergo the procedure. Still more were told the procedure was unavoidable in the maintenance of their long-term health. 

An estimated 20 other women are pending approval to join the class action lawsuit; the youngest survivor was merely 17 years old at the time of her nonconsensual gynecological intervention. Clearly, Canada has subjected the reproductive rights of women—disproportionately Black and Indigenous womento systemic disregard through its ongoing failure to implement policy prohibiting this medical practice.

In a report published by the Canadian Standing Senate Committee on Human Rights in 2022, representatives offered clear steps that the federal government must take to achieve the end of this abhorrent and violent practice. Foremost among these recommendations were three key obligations: To criminalize forced and coerced sterilization; to implement measures heightening standards of informed consent and cultural competency in medical training; to collect data on sterilization to inform future policy and reconciliation efforts. 

As Bill S-228 now awaits approval by the House of Commons, lawmakers, healthcare institutions, and the general public must call for the swift passage of this bill and for effective, comprehensive implementation. Evidence of forced sterilization is extensive and undeniable; its consequences for future generations of Black and Indigenous women are grave. Canada’s government must wait no longer to enshrine humane reproductive healthcare standards in the legislature.

Features

Opening the Black Box

Shining light on McGill’s Palestinian students stuck in Gaza, and the bureaucratic blockades that keep them there

Part 1: Introducing the Black Box of bureaucratic violence and immigration restriction  

“Our academic aspirations are within sight, and we wish to contribute to the world through our studies. With the goodwill and empathy of Canada, our future will not slip away needlessly due to factors beyond our control.”

This sentiment from Majd, a Palestinian student in Gaza who was accepted to a master’s program in Computer Science at McGill, is not an isolated one; it reflects the circumstances of 68 Palestinian students who are admitted to graduate programs at Canada’s top universities—including McGill University, University of Toronto, and University of Calgary—but are barred from travelling to Canada to study. Their obstacles are not academic; rather, these students’ hands have been tied by a web of targeted and restrictive immigration barriers

Most of these students, like Majd, are stuck in Gaza, where daily life is marked by instability, restricted mobility, and unreliable internet and electricity due to Israel’s continued genocide. Even those who have managed to evacuate the Gaza Strip are still trapped by the selective negligence of immigration bureaucracies.  

Despite their unconscionable circumstances, many of the graduate students in Gaza continue their academic programs remotely while awaiting study permit approvals from the Canadian government. Tragically, some never received that chance. Sally and Dalia Ghazi Ibaid, twin sisters accepted into a PhD program at the University of Waterloo, were killed in an Israeli airstrike on Dec. 5, 2024, while preparing to cross the Rafah border into Egypt. 

Their deaths serve as a devastating reminder of the lives lost when bureaucratic systems tailor their efficiency to a colonial valuation of human life. Such valuation justifies the abandonment of Palestinian students while alleviating accountability from the Canadian institutions and governments perpetrating it.     

This feature examines how Canadian immigration bureaucracies block Palestinian students’ passage to Canada through selective application processing, indeterminate timelines, and impossible requirements, trapping students from Gaza in a ‘Black Box’ of restriction, uncertainty, and life-threatening physical danger.

A study permit and its impossibilities

Requirements for obtaining an international study permit to Canada are the same whether an individual is from France, the United States, or Gaza. Palestinian students, like any others hoping to study abroad, must provide proof of acceptance into a Canadian institution, evidence of financial support, valid travel documents, and biometric data. After submission, applications undergo security screening and background checks before receiving official approval. 

While standardized requirements for a study permit make sense in theory, those applying from within Gaza face unparalleled obstacles from Israel’s ongoing violence, forced displacements, border closures, and demolition of infrastructure in the Strip. As a result, many are unable to even complete their applications, while those who can are kept in limbo by long delays—often without explanation.

In August 2025, the Canadian government introduced Special Immigration Measures for Palestinians, effective until July 31, 2026. These measures are intended to support Palestinians already in Canada through fee-exempt study and work permits, extensions of temporary resident status, and expedited processing in some cases. //But these measures do not extend to Palestinians currently inside Gaza//. Biometric requirements, exit procedures from Gaza, and security screenings still apply to these students, with no adjustments tailored to the context of the ongoing genocide, famine, and destruction in the Strip.

A biometrics issue? 

The impossible procedural barrier for Palestinian students from Gaza is the biometric requirement. Applicants must provide fingerprints and photos obtained at a Visa Application Centre (VAC). However, no such facilities exist in Gaza.

In May 2024, Israel closed the Rafah border crossing—which is Gaza’s only connection to Egypt—and is not likely to reopen it. Even before the closure, reaching Rafah was risky and time-consuming. Now, with the crossing shut and the surrounding areas frequently under fire, it is effectively impossible for most students to leave.

While applicants and advocates have demanded waivers or deferrals for Gazan students’ biometrics given the exceptional circumstances, Canada has ignored these requests.

More than biometrics: The Black Box 

But biometrics are not the whole story. Even those students who successfully left Gaza and completed all application requirements, including biometrics, have now waited more than a year in the background check phase. This stage, managed by unnamed ‘third-party organizations,’ adheres to no official timeline or any precedent of direct communication with applicants. Through interviews we learned that others were barred from paying for various stages of the process because Palestinian visa cards were not accepted. Some were even prevented from //starting// the application process after submitting their ‘interest forms’ and never receiving the reference code needed to complete the application. 

Students and advocates describe this obscure knot of bureaucratic obstacles as a ‘Black Box’—a term reflecting the lack of transparency and accountability surrounding study permit applications for Palestinians. 

“It’s a Black Box. It’s unknown what is causing the block to their study permits,” said Nadia Abu-Zahra in an interview with //The Tribune//

Abu-Zahra is a professor at the University of Ottawa and an active collaborator with the Palestinian Students and Scholars at Risk (PSSAR) network. PSSAR supports students through the university, student visa, and CAQ application processes, helps them access social services, and pairs accepted students with professors to supervise research.

“These innocent students are waiting, and the only thing they want to do is to be able to study,” Abu-Zahra said. “It’s unfair to block them now [for] no reason. No one knows why they’re being blocked. No one has given a reason as to why they are being blocked.” 

Nada El-Fassou, the Director of Student Services at PSSAR, echoed this frustration in an interview with //The Tribune//

“Whenever we ask questions about [the processing delays], IRCC [Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada] just says it’s done by third-party organizations,” El-Fassou said. “We don’t know what they do. They refuse to tell us what they do. They refuse to tell us who the third-party organizations are. And every time we ask for help—even from MPs [Members of Parliament]—they say the same thing: ‘There’s no processing time.’”

So, who is responsible?

While IRCC is a major cog in the immigration restriction machine, it does not act alone. The Black Box is held together not by isolated bureaucratic inefficiencies, but by broader political apathy. 

“If the Prime Minister’s Office decided to create a new process that works for these students, they could have done that a long time ago,” said El-Fassou. “So I believe it’s a shared responsibility between many different parts of the government.” 

The discrepancy between Canada’s alleged commitment to high-quality international education and humanitarian support on one hand, and its neglect of Palestinian scholars on the other, puts in sharp relief the discrimination built into its apparently egalitarian path to international education. It is a path that systematically excludes those facing the harshest persecution, enabling the Canadian government to frame education as a right for most, but for Palestinians, a hard-won privilege.

Part 2: Students’ stories from Gaza

This Black Box is neither abstract nor remote. It is a web of concerted restrictions within which McGill students are stuck //as we speak//, slashing through layer after layer of impossible hurdles and indeterminate delays with their McGill acceptance letter in one hand and a pencil in the other. 

Sherin Jadallah and Majd are two such students. In addition to pursuing her master’s degree, Majd is an alumna of the MIT Emerging Talent program in Computer and Data Science, and a student at the Artificial Intelligence Agents and Large Language Models (LLM) bootcamp based in Gaza. Sherin, a Palestinian physician also from Gaza, will start a master’s specialization in neuroscience at McGill in Winter 2026. Currently, she serves as a medical evacuation officer with the World Health Organization (WHO) in the Strip. 

At the time of publication, both Majd and Sherin have been accepted to McGill but remain trapped in Gaza, as they are unable to provide their biometrics. Majd is also currently relying on solar power, which leaves her without internet connection for her studies during the winter.

“We are trying to build our futures in a vacuum,” Majd said. “There are no safe places to study, no functioning labs, and limited ways to connect with professors for guidance.” 

The value of education for Palestinians

Sherin has never been outside Gaza, and has lived her entire life under Israeli siege. For her, McGill is a key to personal mobility and cultural fluency. But it is also the place that can best provide her with the training in pediatric neuroscience necessary to address the psychological scarring and developmental trauma inflicted upon Palestinian children by Israel’s genocide and it man-made famine back in Gaza. 

“The need for education is greater than ever,” Sherin said. “This isn’t just about knowledge gained during a single academic year or our three academic years, it’s about transferring the experience of a great nation like Canada back home.”

Sherin’s education is a medical resource. By denying it, Canada inflicts egregious violence against the hundreds of Palestinians still stuck in Gaza for whom Sherin’s degree could be the difference between life and death. 

“A breath of life in this crisis”

Just a few years ago, the Gaza Strip bustled with life: Gazans ate in restaurants, worked in offices, and attended university. But this vitality has been erased from dominant visual discourse—physically by Israel, symbolically by Western media, and legally by immigration bureaucracies. Pursuing education preserves a semblance of this denied normalcy. 

“When you look at the current status of Gaza in the news, most are naturally astonished if such a place is fit to human life,” Sherin said. “They might view anyone arriving from Gaza as a form of permanent immigration, assuming they will never return [….] However, Gaza is fit for life, and our primary desire is to acquire Canadian expert[ise] and knowledge so we can return.”

She also described education as a form of resistance and reclamation in the face of the damage-centred colonial rendering of her home.

“For me, education currently is not just a resilience of resistance. It’s a breath of life in this crisis,” Sherin said. “Many of my students have been killed just trying to reach the hospital for a lecture. But also studying makes them feel like they are now live [sic] normal life before the war.” 

Functioning in this way as a token of memory, education is both a form of preservation and a tool of psychological reconstruction of the once-flourishing Gaza. 

“Education stability is the cornerstone of stability,” Sherin told us. “It’s the memory of stability. It’s escape from death, and is sensed.”

The stability of education also comes from its indestructibility. As the Israeli state razes Palestinian homes, schools, aid sites, hospitals, libraries, museums, businesses, and houses of worship to the ground, education prevails as one of the few things of which Palestinians cannot be deprived. 

One Palestinian doctoral student told Abu-Zahra that a doctorate is something no one can take away. 

“He was comparing the doctorate and academic accomplishments to land, to homes, to agriculture, to the place [he] grew up, to [his] ancestors—everything that they’re attached to,” Abu-Zahra recalled. “Palestinians, as a people dispossessed, seek academic qualifications because they recognize that that cannot be dispossessed, that cannot be expropriated.”

Canada has everything to gain from Palestinian students. They have been accepted to the most competitive programs around the country in medicinal chemistry, mathematical cryptography, biotechnology, and civil engineering, to name only a few. Their merit shines irrefutably even after every university that once fostered it has long been reduced to rubble. 

“These students are very high-achieving,” El-Fassou said. “They would be amazing. They would contribute greatly to the Canadian academic community. And we’re really missing out on that.”

Part 3: What can be done; what //must// be done:

“What gives me hope is knowing that this is not an impossible problem to solve,” Majd told us—and it’s true. 

Universities hold the power of advocacy, and a collective influence greater than the sum of their parts. “Universities are like individuals,” Abu-Zahra said. “When they act individually, they have individual power. When they act collectively, they have collective power.” Support from organizations like PSSAR, testimony before Parliament, and acts of solidarity like the McGill Association of University Teachers (MAUT)’s historic resolution to boycott Israel, economize on this influence—and must continue to do so.

But the academy’s power is limited. It is the IRCC and the Canadian government that have the direct power to facilitate Palestinian students’ evacuation to third countries to obtain biometrics—as many other countries have already done. This year, the United Kingdom evacuated 34 Palestinian students, Ireland evacuated more than 60, and France evacuated over 100. “Their actions prove that with political will, a pathway can be created,” Majd said.

“I am very hopeful that the government will change,” El-Fassou told us, “because if they don’t, we will be on the wrong side of history.”

The Canadian government has not been straight-jacketed into quiescence. Today, it could choose to welcome to its universities some of the finest scholars in the world, to foster expertise capable of saving lives, and to be part of the psychological reconstruction and infrastructure of hope for a place razed to the ground by an apartheid state. And if not today, it could choose again tomorrow. 

“Without this kind of intervention,” Majd explained, “my application and my future at McGill remain in limbo, despite everything else I have done to make this happen.” 

“Once [Palestinian students] get here, they can flourish and they can thrive,” Abu-Zahra said. “But they’re starving at the moment. Two of the 70 people accepted into universities have been killed. I don’t know if Canada’s waiting for the other 68 to die or be killed.”

“We are not asking for the impossible,” Majd said. “We are asking for what has been shown to be possible.”

Editorial, Opinion

SSMU must remember whose team it is on

On Oct. 1, the Students’ Society of McGill University (SSMU)’s Board of Directors (BoD) abruptly dismantled the student-run food accessibility collective known as Midnight Kitchen (MK), firing its staff and locking the doors to its kitchen space without any prior warning. 

SSMU’s executive termination of Midnight Kitchen betrays the fundamental duty of a student union to serve and uplift its student body. SSMU’s decision to close MK—without proper consultation with the kitchen collective beforehand—demonstrates an ignorance of the practical specificity of MK’s work, and an exploitation of inconsistent and selective information to sensationalize the circumstances surrounding MK’s dismantlement. 

MK is a non-profit, worker- and volunteer-run collective with the core mission of providing affordable, healthy, nut-free and vegan food to McGill students and the surrounding community. MK’s programs include educational workshops on food prep and food politics, free lunches, and solidarity servings.

The discrepancies between the BoD’s rationale for shutting down MK and the nuanced realities underlying these accusations lay bare SSMU’s disregard for clear and respectful communication with its student organizations. In an email sent to the study body, the BoD claimed that MK had failed to meet its fee mandate, providing only two weekly meals instead of five. In a statement regarding the restructuring of MK, the Quebec Public Interest Research Group at McGill (QPIRG-McGill) clarified this reported shortcoming, explaining that in addition to its two weekly meal servings, MK also provides two to three solidarity meals for students and local communities, totalling four to five meals per week. 

SSMU also claimed that MK did not spend enough of its budget directly on food. The email outlined that in 2023, MK spent 5.1 per cent of its $350,360 CAD budget on food, an amount that increased to 7.41 per cent in 2024, but, according to the BoD, remained insufficient. QPIRG contextualised this claim by outlining that the amount MK spent on food does not represent the true amount of food the kitchen acquires, as it sources a large portion of its ingredients free of cost from Moisson Montréal and local student farms, such as Les greniers agricoles and Élèves des Champs. The way in which SSMU offered data without providing context critical to its meaning is misleading and incomplete, demonstrating a failure to work in good faith with the collective to reach a compromise on financial and operational changes.

As a student society, SSMU’s most fundamental responsibility is to support its students and their organizations, not to antagonize and pit them against one another—as SSMU’s framing has done.  

Instead, SSMU imposed a black-and-white business-centred conception of proper management onto MK’s operations—of which SSMU has little to no expertise. The Students’ Society neglected the practical obstacles inherent to running a kitchen and serving food. MK’s kitchen, for example, can only accommodate eight people; additionally, it has no dishwasher, meaning staff must clean everything by hand. These challenges are much more likely to be at the root of organizational shortfalls than the budgetary discrepancies it problematized. 

SSMU’s unapologetic prioritization of austerity over MK’s critical social and political mandates undermines the collective’s capacity to provide food and education to students and local communities in need, and delegitimizes SSMU allyship with the student body. A student union that uses its bureaucratic power to confuse and mislead its members fails its most basic duty to serve its students—a failure that no amount of increased ‘efficiency’ can make up for. 

Regardless of the details of MK’s funding or operational strategy, the manner with which SSMU addressed its grievances with the collective was deeply damaging, disrespectful, and dismissive. SSMU must commit to transparency, not use numbers and incomplete information to sensationalize its negotiations with the student organizations with whom it is supposed to be allied. As students, it is our responsibility to remain critical of the apparent legitimacy of numbers, to seek relevant context when assessing the efficacy of clubs and collectives, and to avoid passive acceptance of information shaped by SSMU’s bureaucratic power. 

SSMU and its students are all on the same team, and we must treat each other as such.

//A previous version of this article stated that Midnight Kitchen is a non-profit, volunteer-run organization. In fact, it is a worker- and volunteer-run organization. This article has been modified to reflect this information. The Tribune regrets this error.//

Science & Technology

Could personalized interventions transform eating disorder care?

Eating disorders (EDs) are serious and prevalent conditions that can impact all aspects of one’s life. However, treatment remains difficult to access as a result of high costs, long waitlists, and geographic limitations. But what if just one encounter could significantly improve cost-effectiveness and long-term outcomes for individuals living with EDs?

Single-session interventions (SSIs)—programs designed to involve only one visit with a clinic, provider, or program—are emerging as a promising approach to better support individuals with EDs who may otherwise be unable to access care.

In a recent publication in the Journal of Eating Disorders, Laura Lapadat, a fourth-year PhD student in McGill’s Clinical Psychology program, investigated the effectiveness of a personalized feedback SSI for individuals with EDs. Lapadat explained that her motivation stems from a desire to make research more collaborative and patient-involved, ensuring that the voices of those directly affected are heard in the development of new interventions.

“When it comes to creating interventions, it’s great to talk to the people who live with the condition and know what it would be like to have to use this [intervention] day to day,” Lapadat said in an interview with The Tribune

She emphasized the need to move past a “one size fits all” approach to treating EDs, since there are many subtypes; the most well-known include anorexia nervosa, bulimia nervosa, and avoidant/restrictive food intake disorders.

“There’s a movement in the field right now towards more personalized approaches to EDs, as there is a lot of variation in how an ED can present and persist,” Lapadat said. “[Personalized interventions] capture different elements of eating disorders, such as levels of symptoms like restrictive eating or emotion regulation problems.”

Using a qualitative approach, the study interviewed 16 individuals with EDs to explore whether they would be interested in a personalized SSI. Lapadat hoped to incorporate their feedback regarding their ED symptoms and behaviours to better understand their experience during recovery.

Participants indicated that they valued the detailed personal information, appreciated actionable recommendations for their health, and hoped for feedback which could be shared with their extended healthcare team to allow for better support.

“People with EDs are interested in seeing their own data and appreciate the personalized element of it as compared to a one size fits all approach,” Lapadat said.

However, some participants reported concerns that personalized feedback may bring up feelings of shame. Lapadat highlighted the emotional complexity patients face when receiving such feedback, describing a participant who experienced strain between their ED and recovery goals. The participant explained that if the feedback indicated she was “doing well,” it could reinforce and trigger her ED habits. This finding illustrates the need for sensitive delivery in making SSIs safe and effective for people who may be at different stages of ED recovery.

“In terms of how it’s delivered, we wanted it to be engaging, to not have too much long text, and to be formatted in ways that respect the autonomy of people with EDs, ideally giving them options about how they view and receive their feedback,” Lapadat said.

Lapadat also acknowledged the study’s limitations caused by its narrow demographic representation. Most participants were white, educated, cisgender women, with many individuals in stable states of their illness.

“Interviewing individuals in more severe states of their illness may have yielded different findings,” Lapadat said.

Looking ahead, the lab’s next step involves recruiting ten individuals with EDs to conduct a pilot study, where participants receive two weeks of five daily phone surveys, to better capture the interventions’ efficacy in real-world settings. Because EDs have the highest mortality rate of any other mental illness, implementing effective interventions to overcome barriers to treatment is urgent. Personalized SSIs show an encouraging new avenue for ED care by offering treatment tailored to a patients’ unique needs, cutting costs, and reaching individuals who may otherwise not have access to traditional care.

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