Canada’s media landscape loves to tell a story of crisis — ad revenue tanking, local papers shutting down, journalists being cut. Into that void, state subsidies and corporate tech money (Google’s funding programs, for example, as tracked by the Reuters Institute) step in as supposed saviours.
However, the key question is: who really benefits? The answer is predictable: the same handful of giants — CBC/Radio-Canada, Bell Media, Rogers, Postmedia — while independent, racialized, and community-based outlets are left fighting for scraps.
Media Protectionism, Not Socialism
At first glance, this may look like a form of collective support, but in reality it is closer to media protectionism. Subsidies and grants aren’t sparking competition or innovation — instead, they are propping up legacy incumbents. In other words, the effect is stagnation disguised as support. Even Heritage Canada’s own reports show that most federal aid goes to the largest players, entrenching dominance rather than diversifying voices.
Hegemony and the Political Economy of News
To understand why this matters, it helps to turn to cultural hegemony (Gramsci’s concept). Put simply, dominant institutions don’t just survive; they also define what counts as “common sense.” Thus, when CBC, Bell, or Rogers capture the lion’s share of funding, their narratives become the national story. Meanwhile, Black, Indigenous, immigrant, and grassroots-led outlets — those closest to lived inequity — are treated as peripheral. This dynamic is not incidental; rather, it is systemic.
Data Feminism and the Myth of Neutral Rules
This brings us to the myth of neutrality. Programs like Google’s media fund are branded as open and impartial — anyone can apply. Yet in practice, only organizations with grant-writing staff and compliance infrastructure (that is, the big guys) succeed. Equity-seeking publishers rarely have the same capacity. Here, Data Feminism offers a useful reminder: neutral rules applied to unequal players merely reproduce inequity. Therefore, what looks like fairness on the surface is actually a reinforcement of existing hierarchies.
Idea Production as Power
Moreover, media doesn’t just reflect society; it actively produces ideas. This means that who gets the funding also decides which communities are amplified, which struggles are visible, and which frames are normalized. When equity-seeking outlets are sidelined, so are issues like anti-Black racism, Indigenous sovereignty, or migrant precarity. As Carleton research demonstrates, mainstream Canadian coverage already underrepresents racialized communities. In effect, funding inequity fuels idea inequity.
Case Study: The Kimmel–Kirk Incident
To illustrate why this is not just theoretical, consider two U.S. media figures who operate under the same system but navigate power differently. When Jimmy Kimmel critiqued conservative activist Charlie Kirk after his assassination, affiliates pulled him off air and political leaders piled on pressure (The Guardian, AP News). His show only returned after public outcry. In contrast, consider Joy Reid, whose MSNBC show The ReidOut was canceled in early 2025 after a change in the political climate and shifts in corporate priorities (AP News). Reid, long a vocal commentator on race and democracy, faced sustained backlash for being 'too political' and 'too outspoken.' Her removal from primetime underscores how power shifts — whether political or corporate — can abruptly redraw the boundaries of who gets to speak and who doesn’t.
Both Kimmel and Reid reveal the same paradox: freedom of speech is less about truth and more about tolerance within the corporate and political ecosystem that hosts you. Kimmel’s satire was punished for offending power; Reid’s commentary is often marginalized for confronting it. They sit on opposite ends of the ideological spectrum, yet both operate within the same fragile media economy where advertisers, regulators, and owners decide the limits of dissent.
Speculatively, if Reid were to challenge centrist or corporate interests as directly as Kimmel clashed with the right, she might face similar institutional discipline. The parallel exposes the broader issue: platform access depends not on integrity or insight, but on how palatable one’s critique is to power. Canada’s media funding dynamics mirror this logic — incumbents stay amplified, while critics, regardless of political alignment, remain precarious.
Closing Reflection
What Canada has built is not a free and competitive media ecosystem but a protectionist one. Subsidies and corporate grants are funneled to the same incumbents, locking up not just airtime but also the pathways for innovation, growth, and wealth. The result is a tight ecosystem where the so‑called Canadian dream — the promise that anyone with talent, ideas, and hustle can build something new — remains out of reach.
Intersectionality sharpens the picture. When small, independent, and equity‑seeking outlets are excluded, the losses multiply. Race, gender, and class intersect to make it especially difficult for racialized founders, women‑led initiatives, and immigrant‑run publications to break through. Yet it isn’t only about identity — even ambitious non‑legacy ventures find the field impossibly tilted. In practice, everyone outside the old guard is pushed to the margins.
This isn’t just bad for democracy; it’s bad for economics. By freezing competition, Canada’s media protectionism stops wealth and ideas from circulating. It keeps growth stagnant, risk‑taking minimal, and the cultural imagination narrow. Cultural hegemony ensures the dominant players define what “common sense” looks like. Data Feminism reminds us that supposedly neutral rules reproduce inequity. And the lived reality is that the cycle locks wealth, voice, and power at the top.
If the goal is democracy, equity, and progress, Canada’s media system must move beyond protectionism. Weighted funding, capacity‑building for independents, and transparent allocation are essential. Until then, the question is unavoidable: how do you build a Canadian dream when the gatekeepers own all the doors?
