By Siavash Shekarian, CEO of SHEKARIAN LAW PC, Chair of CILA’s Business Immigration Committee, and Public Affairs Liaison of the Citizenship & Immigration Section of the Ontario Bar Association
Introduction: Canada, the Undefined Immigration Nation
“Canada is an immigration nation.”
A statement so universally accepted that no political party—or leader—dares to disagree. Yet, it remains a phrase void of substance. Because while everyone repeats it, no one can define it.
The problem isn’t just about immigration policy—it’s about Canada’s identity struggle. What does it truly mean to be an “immigration nation”? Is it about numbers? Humanitarian gestures? Economic growth? Demographics? Votes?
In 2025, as political parties race for the right to govern, this fundamental question is left unanswered. Instead, immigration is reduced to a talking point—weaponized when convenient, ignored when complicated, and almost always framed as a problem to manage, rather than an opportunity to seize.
This article critically examines how Canada’s major political parties approach immigration—not through their lofty slogans, but through what they’ve said in the Leaders’ debates and written in their platforms. The French debate—where immigration was begrudgingly given airtime—offered a revealing glimpse into the political mindset. The English debate? Immigration was axed entirely, a silent admission of how uncomfortable the topic has become.
With the Conservatives releasing their platform on April 22, 2025, we now have a full view of where each party stands—or stumbles—on immigration.
But first, let’s start where they did: On a debate stage, where Canada’s lifeline—immigration—was treated as little more than a crisis management exercise.
The Debate
If you want to understand how Canadian politics views immigration in 2025, look no further than the Leaders’ French debate. Immigration wasn’t framed as a nation-building tool or a strategic advantage—it was framed, unequivocally, as a problem.
The opening question said it all. Moderator Patrice Roy set the tone by asking if Canada would accept the 500,000 Haitians at risk of deportation from the U.S. A fair question in today’s Trump-influenced geopolitics—but one that instantly reduced immigration to crisis management, and also gift-wrapped bargaining chip for Trump in trade negotiations—as if the next Prime Minister’s role was to brace for Trump’s demands rather than lead with Canada’s own vision.
Unsurprisingly, every party leader—regardless of political stripe—gave the same answer: No. Dressed in varying degrees of humanitarian language (courtesy of the Liberals and NDP), but a rejection nonetheless, citing the Safe Third Country Agreement. So much for Canada’s self-proclaimed generosity.
The second major immigration question wasn’t about opportunity or strategy either—it was about Quebec demanding $500 million to handle refugees. Pierre Poilievre took this as an opportunity to reject the Century Initiative’s population growth targets and pivoted to his signature soundbite: immigration must not outpace housing, jobs, or healthcare.
On the surface, it sounded responsible—tying immigration levels to measurable capacities. But scratch the surface, and it collapses into political convenience:
- How do you define “available housing” for immigrants? Is it just counting rooftops, or do we track which units are vacant, affordable, and suitable for immigrant families? What assumptions are made about family size, regional housing markets, or rental availability?
- What does “healthcare capacity” mean in practice? Is there a formula that predicts the future medical needs of diverse immigrant populations? Does one senior equal three healthy workers in this equation?
- Who decides when Canada has “enough” jobs?
By reducing immigration policy to a vague balancing act, Poilievre avoids answering the harder question: What is Canada’s strategic goal for immigration? Is it just to avoid upsetting supply-demand charts—or is it to build a stronger, more competitive nation?
Mark Carney echoed Poilievre, sidestepping accountability for the Liberals’ disastrous miscalculations on absorptive capacity—off by 30% in a single year (compare 2024-2026 level plans with 2025-2027 level plans). His solution? Vague commitments without any framework for how Canada should assess or plan immigration levels beyond reactive guesswork.
Jagmeet Singh began with the classic, “we need immigration”—a statement that deserves credit for its honesty. It’s a step up from the usual NDP rhetoric of “we want immigration”, which too often feels like a charitable gesture from Canada, the global pioneer of humanity and compassion.
But the disappointment came quickly. Singh’s reasoning collapsed into a narrow, utilitarian view: immigration as a source of low-skilled labour. His examples—farmers for Quebec, workers for small businesses—reduced immigration to a tool for filling short-term, low-wage gaps, ignoring its broader role in driving long-term prosperity.
The Bloc Québécois, kept the focus on asylum seekers, warning against “abuse” of the system while making a token distinction in favor of students and workers—so long as they don’t dare seek protection.
When asked if Canada’s immigration system was “off the rails,” Carney admitted it “wasn’t working”—but blamed numbers and COVID. Conveniently forgotten was the fact that inflating immigration to boost post-pandemic GDP was a deliberate Liberal policy choice. Worse yet, Poilievre’s solution to inefficiency? Dismissing “bogus claims”—singling out Mexican asylum seekers as the problem. A reckless generalization that should have triggered outrage but was met with silence.
Singh, meanwhile, falsely blamed backlogs on staffing shortages, ignoring PBO reports showing IRCC had surplus resources (65% more than needed) and was, in fact, laying off staff. His answer? Throw more money at a broken system—classic political theatre.
Carney tried to play the “humanitarian card,” but when the Bloc suggested hitting pause on immigration until “the system is fixed,” Carney “more or less” agreed.
And just like that, Canada’s entire immigration discourse—what should be a cornerstone of national strategy—was wrapped up in 14 minutes of fear, numbers, blame, and political deflection.
For a country that prides itself on being an “immigration nation,” the debate exposed a harsh truth:
Our leaders aren’t discussing immigration policy. They’re managing immigration anxiety.
The Platforms
NDP: A Deafening Silence on Immigration
The NDP’s 2025 campaign platform, titled “Ready for Better”, conspicuously omits any mention of immigration. This absence is not just a minor oversight; it represents a significant gap in addressing a critical national issue. While the platform discusses various topics, from healthcare to housing, it fails to acknowledge immigration’s role in Canada’s socio-economic fabric. This omission is particularly glaring given the NDP’s historical advocacy for marginalized communities and social justice.
In contrast, past statements by NDP members, such as MP Jenny Kwan, have highlighted concerns about immigration backlogs and discriminatory outcomes. However, these concerns are not reflected in the current platform. Moreover, the NDP has previously criticized the Temporary Foreign Worker Program for exploiting workers with precarious immigration status . Yet, the platform lacks any proposals to reform such programs or address the systemic issues within Canada’s immigration system.
This silence raises questions about the party’s commitment to comprehensive immigration reform and its vision for Canada’s future as an inclusive and diverse nation.
The Liberal Platform: Managing Immigration Like a Balance Sheet
The Liberal platform is a mirror of their decade in power—a purely quantitative approach to immigration. It’s a numbers game where success isn’t measured by integration outcomes, but by how neatly immigration figures fit into politically convenient percentages.
Their 2025 commitments stay true to form. The platform emphasizes stability through hard caps: Temporary workers and international students limited to 5% of Canada’s population by 2027. Permanent resident admissions kept under 1% annually beyond 2027.
But numbers often reveal more than intended. On one hand, the platform paints Canada as a nation of “comminutes based on shared values of fairness, solidarity, responsibility, resilience and sustainability”. On the other hand, it is conveniently silent on the math: by 2027, there will be a 4% gap—roughly 1.68 million temporary workers and international students—left in limbo with no pathway to permanent residency.
One can only wonder how this aligns with notions of fairness and responsibility, especially when this cohort overwhelmingly aspires to build their future in Canada. The Liberals offer no explanation—because acknowledging this reality would expose the disconnect between their rhetoric of inclusion and their policy of exclusion.
Adding to this is the quiet reality that maintaining their proposed cap will require a 15% increase in permanent resident admissions by 2027 compared to 2026 levels.
In other words, the Liberals are telling Canadians: “Don’t worry, we’ll fix housing, healthcare, and infrastructure by 2027—trust us.”
A bold promise from a party with a track record of capacity miscalculations reaching 30% in just the past year.
There’s no mention of leveraging immigration as a strategic economic driver beyond buzzwords like “top global talent.” No serious proposals to modernize integration policies, foster entrepreneurship, or align immigration with Canada’s long-term competitiveness. No acknowledgment of the growing distrust among applicants, businesses, and even provinces over Ottawa’s reactive, number-fixing approach.
In the end, the Liberals continue to treat immigration as an adjustable variable—tweaked to ease political pressure, rather than embraced as a pillar of Canada’s long-term prosperity.
For a party so eager to speak of shared values and diversity, their platform reveals the uncomfortable truth: Behind every mosaic metaphor lies a spreadsheet—and for far too many immigrants, the numbers simply won’t add up.
The Conservative Platform: Restoring Order—or Institutionalizing Fear?
The Conservatives frame their immigration policy with a nostalgic nod to the Harper era—claiming they will “restore order” to a system they insist the Liberals have broken. It’s a familiar Conservative playbook: evoke crisis, promise control, and sell security over strategy.
Their 2025 platform is built on one core message: less is more.
The brief section on immigration merely echoes Pierre Poilievre’s lines from the French debate—insisting that population growth must stay below the growth of housing, jobs, and healthcare. And just like in the debate, the platform stops there. No framework, no metrics, no plan—just a slogan masquerading as policy.
On paper, this might appear as pragmatic management. In reality, it’s a dangerously simplistic approach that reduces immigration to a risk factor—something to be minimized, contained, and constantly justified.
If the Liberals obsess over numbers, the Conservatives take it a step further: they reframe immigration as a law and order issue.
Nearly every Conservative commitment is rooted in mistrust and enforcement: Union LMIA pre-checks to “protect Canadian jobs”, criminal background checks for students, faster removals and expanded deportations, and departure tracking systems.
This looks more like immigration policing than immigration policy.
Perhaps the most telling part of the Conservative platform is its proud rejection of the Century Initiative. Rather than offering an alternative vision for Canada’s demographic and economic future, they simply dismiss growth altogether—mocking the idea of vibrant, expanded cities as if national decline is preferable to ambitious nation-building.
There’s no mention of how immigration could address Canada’s aging population, labour shortages in high-growth sectors, or global competitiveness. No strategy for leveraging skilled immigrants, entrepreneurs, or innovators. The Conservatives offer no pathway forward—only a promise to pull the handbrake.
While they pay lip service to “prioritizing those who grow our economy,” there’s zero substance on how they’ll attract global talent or foster integration. In the end, their platform reflects a party more comfortable managing fears than managing the future.
The Bloc Québécois: Sovereignty with a Coherent Immigration Strategy
In a landscape crowded with contradictions, vague promises, and reactive policymaking, the Bloc Québécois stands apart—not by championing immigration as a driver of growth, but by delivering a consistent, strategically coherent platform rooted in its sovereigntist vision for Quebec.
While other parties oscillate between rhetoric and reality, the Bloc is unequivocal: immigration must serve Quebec’s interests, on Quebec’s terms.
Their proposals—ranging from demanding full control over immigration to introducing conditional permanent residency tied to regional settlement—offer pragmatic responses to real challenges, such as immigrant retention and labour market vulnerabilities. The call for sectoral and regional open work permits reflects a nuanced approach to balancing economic demands with worker protections—an element glaringly absent from federal platforms.
But coherence comes at a cost. The Bloc’s platform is fundamentally defensive—focused on preservation rather than progress. It lacks any ambition to harness immigration for innovation, entrepreneurship, or demographic renewal beyond Quebec’s immediate concerns.
In short, the Bloc offers what no other party does: A clear, honest immigration strategy—even if it’s one designed to manage boundaries, not expand horizons.
Conclusion: Immigration—Canada’s Greatest Missed Opportunity
Across debates and platforms, one thing is painfully clear—Canada’s political class has lost sight of what immigration truly represents.
Whether it’s the Liberals’ obsession with percentages, the Conservatives’ fixation on enforcement, the Bloc’s defensive posturing, or the NDP’s deafening silence—immigration has been reduced to a liability. A number to cap, a risk to manage, or worse, an issue to avoid altogether.
But immigration is not Canada’s problem. It is—and has always been—Canada’s greatest opportunity.
In a world grappling with aging populations, economic stagnation, and geopolitical instability, countries would compete fiercely for Canada’s potential in attracting human capital, innovation, entrepreneurship, and diversity.
Yet instead of harnessing this advantage, our leaders frame immigration as a burden. They overlook the reality that newcomers don’t just fill gaps—they create growth. They launch businesses, revitalize communities, and inject resilience into a country that increasingly relies on their contributions.
The real problem isn’t immigration. It’s political imagination trapped in short-term thinking, populist fear, and administrative complacency.
What Canada needs isn’t smaller targets or tighter borders. It needs a strategic, nation-building vision for immigration:
- A vision that prioritizes integration outcomes over arbitrary percentages.
- One that aligns immigration with Canada’s ambitions to become an economic powerhouse—focusing on GDP per capita, ensuring the system drives prosperity for both Canadians and newcomers alike.
- A system rooted in support, not unrealistic expectations—a framework that empowers immigrants as partners in building Canada’s future, not as liabilities to be managed.
Until political leaders stop treating immigration as a balancing act between public frustration and capacity limits, Canada will continue to squander one of its defining strengths.
But change won’t come from politicians alone.
In a free and democratic country like Canada, we—the people—own this conversation. It’s up to us to rise above political rhetoric, ask the hard questions, and demand more than the complacency we’ve been offered.
If we truly are an immigration nation, it’s time we start acting like it—not just saying it.
