The renewal of the Canada-US North American Aerospace Defence (NORAD) agreement in March 1986 will not end the debate on the relationship between NORAD and trends in American strategy, including the Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI). This article reviews and explains the various strains of that debate. It points out why some in Canada argue that participation in NORAD will inevitably lead to Canadian involvement in the ballistic missile defence objective of the SDI. It also notes, however, why the military and other observers are concerned that strategic and technological trends in the US may make it difficult for Canada to remain active in North American aerospace defence, and indeed, even to provide for its own air sovereignty.

Section 2(a) of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms guarantees freedom of conscience and religion. In interpreting the Charter, the courts have interpreted this provision to prevent the legislatures from discriminating against religious minorities by promoting particular religious practices. Judges have been much less willing to protect religious minority groups from secular laws that interfere with their religious convictions. The religion cases hold important implications for those concerned about cultural diversity and the equality of Canada's many ethnic communities, as well as for the debate over the increased power of courts under the Charter.

The concept of a corporation was familiar to the first settlers in Canada, both French and English. The Company of New France and the Hudson's Bay Company are examples of the importance of trading companies in our early economic development. Moreover, colonial legislatures incorporated several dozen companies by special acts before deciding to allow companies to come into being without each one having to go directly to Parliament for its own charter. But a companies act which would permit companies to be expeditiously incorporated for manufacturing, trading, mining, and other ordinary kinds of business was not evolved without some experimentation, a good deal of borrowing from other jurisdictions, and the creation of two rather special methods of our own.

Until about 1850, the principle of limited liability was not generally accepted either in Canada, Britain, or most of the United States. Even as late as 1862 Nova Scotia's “Act for the incorporation and winding-up of Joint Stock Companies” (25 Vict. c. 2) forbade the incorporation of companies for “ordinary, mercantile and commercial business.” Legislators were afraid that a company might purchase excessive amounts of merchandise on credit and so take unfair advantage of its creditors, as individual traders often did during the nineteenth century.

Limited liability was permitted for banks, but only on certain conditions. In Canada, bank shareholders were usually liable for twice the par value of their stock and bank charters were valid for only ten years, so that periodically the government could review and perhaps amend the pertinent statutes.

The years 1867–75 were ominous ones in the history of British trade unionism; they were also years of some of its greatest successes. The renewal in 1867 of trade union violence and murder by the Saw-Grinders of Sheffield created a widespread demand for suppression or at least investigation of the unions; and in the same year the Court of Queen's Bench in the case of Hornby vs. Close questioned the legality of unions and denied their funds the protection of the law. Legislation of some kind was certain to follow from these events and organized labour was therefore faced with a serious situation. The Conservative Government of the day decided to proceed by way of Royal Commission and it was only after the organization and practices of the unions had been examined exhaustively over a period of almost two years in 1867–9 that the first steps were taken in the direction of new legislation. Even then the Government—the first Gladstone administration had come to power—moved with exasperating slowness and the unions were kept uncertain of their fate until 1871. But the Liberal enactments of that year did not dispose of the problem; only with R. A. Cross's acts of 1875 were British trade unions set upon their modern foundations. Though long delayed, the two instalments of reform, in 1871 and 1875, constituted a complete success for the unionists, the first great legislative victory won by organized labour and a forecast of its power in the twentieth century.

The past decade has witnessed a growing recognition of the economic effects of government finance. Government expenditures and revenues, government borrowing and debt repayment are studied, not for their impact on the Treasury, but for their impact on the economy. It is recognized now more than ever before that each aspect of government finance may be used as an instrument of economic policy to influence the size of the nation's income or alter the character of the nation's output. At first the problems of the depression and now the necessities of the war have converted “government finance” into “fiscal policy.” The theory of fiscal policy, reborn in the depression, nurtured during the recovery and matured in the war, has become the handmaiden of the government official and the political economist.

In spite of the great amount of attention it has received, the theory of fiscal policy still lacks complete co-ordination of its various faculties and still suffers from frequent reversion to its childhood days. During the time of deep depression when the multiplier theory was developed it was taken for granted by many economists that deficits were the appropriate instrument for raising the level of national income. Since widespread unemployment and underemployment existed there was little need for differentiating real from money income, since a general rise in prices was not very likely and, in any case, was desirable. During the war, however, we wish to raise only the real income or the physical output, and then only the output of war materials, and keep down as much as possible the money national income and the price level. How must the theory of fiscal policy be changed as a result of these new objectives and altered conditions? And when the war is over will we have to resort to deficit-spending to prevent a depression? Are deficits, which were required to raise the level of national income, appropriate for maintaining a high level of national income? We must exercise the greatest care in answering these questions and we must guard against glibly applying some ready formula which we ourselves have carried over from the pre-war days of business depression. It is necessary first of all to examine the structure of fiscal policy (Part i) and trace through the interrelations among expenditures, taxation, borrowing, debt repayment, and national income (Part ii). Then we can see how fiscal policy may be used to achieve desired ends and avoid dangerous pitfalls during the war (Part iii) and in the post-war period (Part iv).

Scholarly research suggests that Canadian election campaigns are centralized affairs, with party headquarters managing a disciplined campaign organization across 338 federal constituencies. At the same time, local realities can incentivize constituency campaigns to deviate from their parties. This article examines the extent of local campaign discipline, given these tensions between parties’ centralizing compulsions and countervailing forces that militate against party cohesion. The article relies on original data to identify and explain the extent of local campaign behaviour that defies central party preferences and directives. It draws from interviews with 87 former candidates and eight party strategists, as well as observational data gathered from 10 constituency campaigns during the 2019 federal election. The findings indicate a relatively high level of undisciplined constituency campaign behaviour during the 2015 and 2019 elections. The article contends that this behaviour stems from insubordination, innovation and incompetence within constituency campaigns.

There is probably no other form of organized group life in the Canadian community which has been more unstable than the organization of religion. The history of Protestantism in the country is very largely a history of church unions and sectarian divisions. If account were taken of the activities of the Jesuit Order in New France, of the defection at various times of many Catholics to Protestant religious sects, and of recent anti-clerical movements in the province of Quebec and among the Catholic immigrant population in Western Canada, the same would be found to be true in a general way of Catholic development in the country.

The dream of the universal church, of the church which would unite all nations and all classes, has never been fully realized, in Canada as elsewhere in the Western World. Efforts to accomplish such an object, by the establishment of a state church, by the union of separate religious bodies, or by the initiation of a new religious movement which would transcend all other religious groups have invariably failed in face of the expression of strong separatist forces in religious organization. Out of every such effort to create an all-embracing religious body in the community have come new movements of religious protest, the religious sect.

On the other hand, the sect form of religious organization has proved equally unstable. The pure sect, the religious group organized exclusively in terms of the other-worldly or spiritual interests of its members, has never been more than an idealistic conception of religious organization finding expression in movements of religious reform at various times. The necessity of existing in a worldly society has led religious sects from the very beginning to accept to some extent a worldly outlook. Where they have not succeeded in developing into churches, or at any rate into types of religious organization accommodated to the secular community, they have perished. Almost from the moment of their inception, they have been forced to make such a choice between social accommodation or extinction.

Eighty years after his death, judgments of Disraeli tend to focus on two opposing impressions. One of them derives from the portrait which he created of himself in his own lifetime. Striving as he did to exaggerate his personality in social and public life, he inevitably left the impression of being too much the opportunist ever to be sincere. The word “charlatan” was attached to him before he was out of his twenties, and he never completely outgrew it. When he was in his forties even a maverick like Lord Brougham felt free to point him out on the street as “the greatest blackguard in England.” What annoyed so many of his contemporaries was not simply that Disraeli was a Jew or an upstart, but that he did not accept the moral patterns of English politics. He seemed always too ready to make alignments beyond the fixed boundaries of party, and to use even his conservatism as a means towards personal power and fame. Dislike of him on this ground existed in various quarters from earnest statesmen like Bright, Gladstone, and Shaftesbury on the one hand, to Tory aristocrats like Derby and Salisbury on the other. By the end of his life there had developed also the criticism that his political career had been essentially a failure. Walter Bagehot, for example, wrote in 1876 that Disraeli possessed an inaccurate mind with little capacity for the real business of parliament. J. A. Froude in 1891 was even more negative when he said that Disraeli's real triumph was of short duration, since “no public man in England ever rose so high and acquired power so great, so little of whose work has survived him.”

Although most of this essay relates to the work of political scientists, some of it deals with the writings of others who have contributed to our understanding of the government and politics of Canada. It would be a perverse and superficial student of our political institutions indeed who confined himself to the scholarship of political scientists without familiarizing himself at least in a general way with the writings, for example, of historians Ramsay Cook and W. L. Morton, sociologists S. D. Clark and John Porter, economists John Dales and Harry Johnson, legal scholars Edward McWhinney and Frank Scott, and, outside the bounds of Academia proper, journalists Peter Newman and Claude Ryan, and practising public administrators A. W. Johnson and Herbert Balls.

The Scope of the Survey. The survey was confined to the Mackenzie River District. The places visited were Fort Smith, Fort Resolution, Hay River, Fort Providence, Fort Simpson, Norman Wells, Fort Good Hope, Arctic Red River, Fort McPherson, Aklavik, Yellowknife, and Port Radium. Fort Norman and Fort Rae were not visited, but information in regard to these was obtained from medical officers for these areas. All but one doctor in the area were interviewed. The hospitals and schools were visited and the authorities in charge were most co-operative in supplying information. Useful interviews were had with the clergy, R.C.M.P., R.C.C.S., Hudson Bay Company officials, independent traders, oil and mine operators, and many other residents of the Territories.

Students of urban politics have in the past tended to neglect the question of gender in their research. Since the early 1970s, however, this question has generated a significant number of studies. Investigation of the role of women in cities, in relation to the various components of urban structure such as transportation and housing, shows that women have a variety of relations with the organization of social space. The results of research to date allow us to define the main aspects of these relationships, and to assess the relevance of these kinds of enquiries. Several trends can be discerned in the literature in this emerging field. These indicate that the strengths and the weaknesses of future research will be at two levels: that of theory-building in the area of gender politics, and that of continuing investigations of this question in the context of more traditional approaches to urban politics.

This article presents tests of effects of social class background on voters' perceptions of most and least favoured federal parties, perceived party differences and subjective class voting. The data were taken from the 1984 Canadian National Election Study. The results show that subjective class voting extended to voters' beliefs about least liked parties. And the greater the perceived differences between voters' preferred parties and their second and third choice parties, the greater the level of class voting. An index which combined respondents' perceptions of the class orientations of most and least liked parties increased the estimate of the level of subjective class voting that takes place. The results suggest that this index provides an improved way of assessing subjective class voting. This index is a useful improvement upon previous measures because it incorporates information on the extent to which voters see Canadian politics as presenting class-based alternatives. This is the conceptual domain of the dependent variable in the literature on subjective class voting, but perceived class-based alternatives are seldom measured directly.

When compared to research on the family and the school, the study of peer groups within the context of political socialization is a relatively neglected area. Somewhat more concern for peer-group effects has been indicated by non-political social scientists, especially social psychologists. But even though some of their work is suggestive, its application is often marginal for explaining political attitudes. Just as the existing theory on peer-group political socialization is weak, so are the existing data and analysis. The purpose of this paper is to examine the nature and extent of peer-group socialization among German students. This analysis is based on a survey of student attitudes at the University of Cologne. The survey is a random sample of 855 respondents and was carried out in 1968.

Aristotle is reputed to be a thinker for whom nature is a standard which enables political judgments to avoid being arbitrary. By examining his discussion of acquisition in the Politics, this article reconsiders whether and how this reputation is deserved. Although Aristotle's discussion seems to represent a classic case in which theoretical reflections on nature issue in a moral condemnation of limitless acquisition, a subsequent distinction between theory and practice limits the practical consequences of his remarks on nature. This observation invites a rethinking of Aristotle's position on the relationship between nature and political life.