There’s a growing trend I’ve noticed in today’s media landscape—and it’s not subtle.
We’re dividing into camps. People tune into podcasts, watch interviews, or read articles not to have their minds challenged, but to have their existing beliefs reaffirmed. It’s easier. It’s comfortable. And in today’s increasingly polarized climate, it feels safer.
That’s not the kind of platform I want to build.
Over the last several months, I’ve had the opportunity—and, frankly, the responsibility—to speak with voices that make some people uncomfortable. Meghan Murphy. Maxime Bernier. Candice Malcolm. John Rustad. All of them bring views that spark strong emotional reactions. And yes, some of those reactions have landed in my inbox and my mentions.
But many others—far more than I expected—have come in the form of quiet thank-yous. Listeners pulling me aside in person. Comments from people who felt heard. People who said, “I may not agree with everything that was said, but I’m grateful you’re willing to go there.”
I’ve learned that going there matters. Not because it's provocative. Not because it will draw headlines. But because we can’t rebuild trust in this country—trust in institutions, in truth, in each other—without having honest conversations.
And those conversations aren’t always easy.
What Happens When You Speak to “The Wrong People”?
When I published my interview with Maxime Bernier, some folks online were quick to accuse me of platforming a controversial figure. But here's the thing: his team reached out to me. They wanted a conversation. And I believed it was important to hear what he had to say—especially on issues like COVID-19, federal overreach, and political polarization.
The same applied to Candice Malcolm. I’ve taken some heat for that episode too. But I felt it was important to sit down with her and directly address concerns around Indian Residential School denialism. If we can’t talk to each other—if we only shout across ideological divides—we won’t get anywhere. The alternative is mutual suspicion, caricature, and fear.
My goal isn’t to validate anyone’s position. It’s to understand it, respectfully challenge it, and see if a better truth can emerge. Not common ground, necessarily—but higher ground.
“Everyone seems to have a lot of emotions around these current topics,” I’ve said on the show. And that’s true. Whether it’s gender identity, Canada’s history with Indigenous Peoples, or free speech itself—people are hurting. People are scared. People are fed up.
We need spaces where those feelings can be expressed, heard, and carefully examined—not shouted down.
Why More Right-Leaning Voices?
Here’s something I’ve noticed: the people most willing to speak right now, especially on controversial issues, tend to lean right. I’ve extended invitations across the political spectrum to many influential voices on the left. Some on the left have joined me, and I’m grateful for that. But many others seem hesitant. Maybe it’s fear of blowback. Maybe it's concern about validating the questions. I get it.
But the imbalance worries me.
It creates a false perception that only one side is willing to engage in open conversation. It makes “free speech” feel like a partisan value when, in reality, it should be a shared responsibility. Because free speech is not just a right. It’s a duty. A practice. A discipline.
And as a podcast host and interviewer, it’s a responsibility I take seriously.
What I’m Building (And Who It’s For)
I’m not here to create a podcast that spoon-feeds information to people who already agree with me. There are enough shows like that.
I want Bigger Than Me—and whatever name it may evolve into—to be a place where people come to challenge themselves. To grow. To sit in the tension between ideas and emotions. To explore nuance. To feel a little uncomfortable. To be introspective, respectful, open-minded, and most of all—mature.
I’m not perfect. I don’t have all the answers. But I want to ask better questions. I want to actively listen. And I want to speak with people who challenge my assumptions, not just the audience’s.
If you're here, reading this—thank you. It means you care about these conversations. It means you're not afraid to think deeply, even when it's difficult. And it means you believe, like I do, that respectful dialogue still has a role to play in rebuilding what’s been lost.
So let’s keep doing the hard work.
Let’s keep talking to people who think differently.
Let’s keep asking questions, even when they have complicated answers.
If this resonates with you—if you believe that free speech is a responsibility, not just a right—I invite you to support this work.
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👉 Upgrade to a paid subscription to help keep these conversations independent and honest.
We’re not just creating content. We’re creating space—for dialogue, growth, and a future where we can actually talk to one another again.
Keep at it. Bridges can only be built when we understand each other better. This doesn’t require agreement.