Mark Carney and the Triumph of the Anywhere Class

By Patrick Keeney

With a new Liberal leader in place, it is time to take stock of Justin Trudeau’s legacy.

Even the most charitable assessment must acknowledge that his record is deeply polarized, with failures often overshadowing achievements. History will ultimately judge, but his tenure as Canada’s 23rd Prime Minister will likely be defined by a profound shift in the nation’s identity, one that sought to move beyond the traditional nation-state as a unifying ideal in favour of a more fluid, post-national vision.

Trudeau’s assertion that Canada is a “post-national state” with “no core identity” was not mere rhetoric, but a governing philosophy. His policies, from mass immigration to multiculturalism as dogma, from net-zero mandates to an unwavering commitment to globalist institutions, prioritized abstract universality over the particularities of the Canadian experience. The result was not a stronger, more inclusive nation, but a fractured society where civic cohesion eroded under the weight of an ideology that prized diversity as an end unto itself rather than as a means of strengthening a shared identity.

Trudeau’s governance was animated by a vision that aligns with what the British writer David Goodhart describes as the rule of the “Anywhere” class—an elite that sees national identity as parochial and outdated, favouring global integration over local rootedness. In his book The Road to Somewhere, Goodhart distinguishes between the “Somewheres”, who are anchored in a specific place, culture, and tradition, and the “Anywheres”, highly mobile, credentialed technocrats whose sense of belonging is tied to transnational institutions rather than to a particular nation with its particular history, culture and traditions. With Mark Carney, the dominance of the Anywhere class in Canada is set to reach new heights.

Carney’s career—spanning Goldman Sachs, Davos, and the United Nations—epitomizes this elite, borderless class. He is the consummate technocrat, fluent in the language of global governance, unmoored from national loyalties, and comfortable navigating the corridors of power where nationhood is seen as a relic of a less enlightened past. Where Trudeau’s post-nationalism was often muddled and rhetorical, Carney’s vision is sharper, more deliberate, and ultimately more dangerous.

Carney’s policies and worldview suggest that, in his hands, Canada will cease to be a sovereign nation in any meaningful sense and instead function as a node in a global network. His advocacy for global financial governance, his role as the UN’s Special Envoy for Climate Action and Finance, and his embrace of supranational regulatory frameworks make clear that he does not see Canada as an autonomous entity but as a component of a broader transnational system. Unlike Trudeau, whose naïveté may have unintentionally allowed him to undermine Canada’s national character, Carney’s vision is one of active demolition, of Canada as a proving ground for a stateless, technocratic future.

The transition from Trudeau to Carney, which Carney promised would be seamless and quick, is not a course correction for the Liberals, but an intensification of the same existential drift to governance by an elite, managerial class.

If Trudeau frayed the social fabric through neglect, Carney’s leadership threatens to unravel it with intent. His rhetoric of “standing up for Canada” rings hollow when his career suggests a preference for standing above it, orchestrating its integration into a world where borders are inconveniences, traditions are obstacles, and national sovereignty is a problem to be managed rather than a principle to be defended.

As Mark Carney prepares to assume power, Canadians must confront a stark and unsettling question: Can a nation survive when its leaders no longer believe in its right to exist as a distinct and sovereign whole? Trudeau may have weakened the foundation, but Carney’s brand of globalism goes further—it is not merely indifferent to nationhood but openly hostile to it. For him, national sovereignty is not a principle to be defended but an obstacle to be overcome, a barrier to the seamless technocratic order he envisions.

Under Trudeau, one might reasonably believe that the erosion of civic cohesion was a byproduct of misguided policies and ideological fervour. On the other hand, Carney’s entire career has been spent as a bureaucrat in institutions that see nations not as self-determining entities but as units to be managed within a larger transnational framework. His advocacy for centralized global financial governance, climate policies dictated by supranational bodies, and migration policies shaped by UN compacts rather than national interests all point to a worldview in which Canada becomes an administrative outpost in a borderless economic and regulatory system.

This is not merely an acceleration of Trudeau’s post-national vision but its logical culmination. Where Trudeau sought to weaken the ties of history, tradition, and shared culture in favour of an amorphous and inchoate multiculturalism, Carney advances the next phase: replacing the very idea of a self-governing Canada with an integrated global apparatus.

In this light, the disintegration of national identity and civic unity is not an unintended consequence but a prerequisite. A population divided by competing identities, detached from its history, and stripped of a common purpose is far easier to manage within a globalist framework than a people bound by national solidarity and cultural continuity.

Canadians face a challenge that reaches beyond politics. If a nation becomes little more than a series of administrative edicts and a geographic bazaar—the identity of its citizens pared down to the roles of consumer and producer—it is difficult to know what can prevent its unraveling.

Canadians must resist this trajectory, and reject the idea that sovereignty is obsolete, that identity is dispensable, and that citizenship is nothing more than a bureaucratic designation in an ever-expanding global order.

In the end, the choice is not, as Carney and his cohort might cast it, a simple tug between progress into a borderless, technocratic future and retreat into a nostalgia for an older Canada. It is a deeper contest: whether to preserve the manifold virtues for which we Canadians may justly take pride, or to yield to the blandishments of an Anywhere elite—a globalist managerial class untethered from the cultural and historical roots that give Canada its identity and cohesion.