I Don't Remember A "Buy Canada" Movement When China Kidnapped the Two Michaels

Jingoism makes fickle bed-fellows:

The so-called buy Canadian movement gained momentum when Donald Trump suggested, half in jest but with a tone of menace, that Canada could one day become America’s “51st state.”

The remark struck a nerve. Canadians reacted with indignation and pride, choosing to affirm their sovereignty not only through political rhetoric but also through their wallets. Many began rejecting U.S. products and looking more deliberately at what it meant to support Canadian ones.

(Sidebar: buy Canadian citrus!) 

At first glance, it appears that some companies have gained from this wave of patriotism. Liquor boards reported stronger sales of Canadian wines and beers, though these increases were largely the product of institutional bans on U.S. products rather than a broad-based consumer awakening. In grocery retail, NielsenIQ data showed U.S. food product sales falling by 8.5% last spring within only a few months.

Yet the sales of Canadian products remained largely flat, suggesting that the vacuum left by fewer American imports did not translate into an equivalent rise in domestic demand.

(Sidebar: stocked up, broke, or cleaned out? YOU decide.) 

Instead, the gap has invited another phenomenon: “Maple washing.” This is where products are branded or marketed as Canadian even though they are not genuinely so. We have seen oranges and almonds sold with a maple leaf logo despite the obvious reality that Canada does not produce these commodities at scale. Packaged foods made almost entirely from imported ingredients but assembled in Canada are now presented as “homegrown.”

These cases, and many others circulating on social media, reveal just how quick some companies are to exploit patriotism without delivering on its promise. Canadians have grown impatient with such practices. They expect detail, transparency and honesty from their grocers, and when those expectations are not met, trust erodes.

(Sidebar: do they, though?) 

The food service sector has joined this race to capture national sentiment, though often with gestures that border on the absurd. Subway’s “Ditch the Inch” campaign, where sandwiches previously sold as six inches are now marketed as 15.24 centimetres, is a case in point. It is clever in a superficial way, tapping into Canada’s use of the metric system, but it hardly amounts to an authentic expression of Canadian identity. Such stunts risk trivializing a movement that, at its best, could reinforce real pride in local food systems.