“Forget the invasion. The only war Canada can guarantee to win is the Storage War — the battle against everything we’ve stockpiled in our cupboards, fridges and freezers while our bodies quietly became the biggest thing we can no longer carry.”
- adaptationguide
THE ENEMY IS COMING FROM THE SOUTH — AND IT MAY ALREADY BE IN YOUR KITCHEN
Canada is being told to prepare for the unthinkable: a U.S. military assault. Fine. Let’s talk about the part nobody wants to put on the war map: the average Canadian civilian.
There is something deeply unsettling about the fact that the Prime Minister of Canada has reportedly spent the past year preparing for the possibility that the United States could one day attack Canada.
Not because an American invasion is the most likely scenario.
It isn't.
Mark Carney reportedly described it as an “extreme tail risk” — the kind of extraordinarily unlikely event that could produce catastrophic consequences. His argument is brutally simple: you don't build your entire life around the disaster, but you don't get to pretend the disaster is impossible either.
That is risk management.
And apparently, somewhere inside the machinery of the Canadian state, somebody has finally opened the drawer marked:
WHAT IF EVERYTHING GOES TO HELL?
The Canadian Armed Forces have reportedly modelled a hypothetical U.S. invasion and what Canada's response might look like if conventional forces were hopelessly outmatched. The reported scenario assumes American forces could overwhelm Canada's strategic positions within days, leaving unconventional warfare — ambushes, sabotage, drones, hit-and-run operations and dispersed resistance — as a possible response.
A model is not a war plan.
But it does force an uncomfortable question:
What exactly are we preparing to defend?
Because there is one gigantic vulnerability sitting between the Canadian military and the theoretical American invader.
Us.
THE GUERRILLA ADVANTAGE: BEING SMALL, FAST AND VERY ANNOYING
History has demonstrated something conventional armies repeatedly discover the hard way:
You don't necessarily have to defeat a superior military force head-on.
You can disappear.
You can move.
You can operate in small groups.
You can make occupation extraordinarily expensive.
That is the basic logic behind guerrilla warfare. A smaller force can exploit terrain, mobility, local knowledge, dispersion and asymmetry rather than attempting to fight a technologically superior opponent at its own game.
The Canadian military reportedly considered precisely this kind of asymmetric response.
And here is where the Canadian preparedness conversation gets brutally funny.
Because guerrilla warfare has one absolutely non-negotiable requirement:
You have to be able to move your ass.
Fast.
THE GREAT CANADIAN CHAIR-BASED RESISTANCE
Imagine the invasion.
The warning sirens go off.
The internet goes down.
The power flickers.
The grocery shelves are empty.
Your phone has 8 percent battery.
And somewhere in suburban Canada, a man who hasn't walked farther than the distance between his truck and Tim Hortons in three years looks at his emergency backpack and whispers:
“I knew I bought this for a reason.”
He tries to put it on.
He gets stuck.
Not because of the backpack.
Because of him.
That isn't an insult directed at individual Canadians.
It's a national preparedness problem.
According to Statistics Canada, 68 percent of Canadian adults aged 18–79 were classified as overweight or living with obesity in 2022–2024, based on measured height and weight. Obesity alone affected 33.4 percent of adults in that age range.
So let's be honest about what our hypothetical resistance army looks like.
Somebody says:
“Fall back!”
Half the squad says:
“Where's the elevator?”
Somebody screams:
“Take cover!”
Someone else asks:
“Does DoorDash still work?”
And the guy carrying the drone says:
“Can somebody carry me?”
Welcome to the Canadian Resistance.
Powered by Wi-Fi, poutine and lower-back pain.
WE DIDN'T LOSE THE WAR. WE LOST THE WARM-UP.
Here's the uncomfortable part.
You don't need an American invasion to expose Canada's physical vulnerabilities.
A prolonged blackout could do it.
A major wildfire could do it.
A catastrophic flood could do it.
A heat emergency could do it.
A pandemic could do it.
A prolonged supply-chain disruption could do it.
A cyberattack could do it.
A major earthquake could do it.
A fuel shortage could do it.
A regional evacuation could do it.
You don't need tanks crossing the border.
You just need the supermarket to stop receiving trucks.
Suddenly that six-pack of frozen pizzas isn't looking like strategic food storage.
And that giant television isn't going to boil water.
Preparedness isn't really about defeating an invading army.
It's about remaining functional when the systems you take for granted stop functioning.
And that is where Canada's obesity crisis becomes part of a much bigger resilience problem.
Because resilience isn't merely having a basement full of bottled water.
It's having a body capable of carrying it.
THE ULTIMATE AMERICAN WEAPON
Now let's talk about the elephant in the room.
Actually, according to Statistics Canada, there may be quite a few elephants in the room.
And before somebody accuses me of blaming individuals, let's stop right there.
This isn't about shaming people for their bodies.
It is about recognizing an environment that has become exceptionally good at making unhealthy choices cheap, convenient, aggressively marketed and available everywhere.
Health Canada explicitly advises Canadians to limit highly processed foods because they can contribute excessive sodium, sugars and saturated fat to the diet. The federal guidance specifically lists sugary drinks, candy, chips, fast food, fries, burgers, frozen meals, processed meats and other products.
And Statistics Canada reported that ultra-processed foods accounted for 45.7 percent of total daily energy intake in its national dietary analysis.
That's not a military invasion.
That's something arguably more insidious.
It doesn't arrive with aircraft.
It arrives with advertising.
It doesn't occupy your capital.
It occupies your checkout aisle.
It doesn't fire missiles.
It fires cravings.
And it has an extraordinary ammunition supply.
Sugar.
Salt.
Saturated fat.
Calories.
Convenience.
Marketing.
Super-sized portions.
Drive-through windows.
24-hour delivery.
And an entire industrial ecosystem designed around the proposition that you shouldn't have to get out of your chair to obtain another bucket of fried carbohydrates.
Junk food: the ultimate American weapon.
No NATO summit required.
THE INVASION THAT DOESN'T NEED TROOPS
The irony is almost too perfect.
We're discussing whether Canada could withstand a hypothetical invasion from the south while simultaneously importing an enormous amount of the cultural machinery that has helped create our modern sedentary, convenience-driven lifestyle.
And I'm not talking about Americans as people.
I'm talking about a commercial system.
Because junk food isn't uniquely American anymore.
Canada has its own food corporations.
Its own fast-food chains.
Its own processed-food industry.
Its own marketing.
Its own supermarkets.
Its own consumers.
We've taken the model and enthusiastically franchised it into our own lives.
The enemy, if you insist on calling it that, isn't the person behind the counter.
It's the business model.
Make it cheap.
Make it addictive.
Make it convenient.
Make it enormous.
Make it available everywhere.
Then convince everyone that cooking is an inconvenience and walking is something you do when your car breaks down.
That's not an invasion.
That's market penetration.
THE CHAIR IS THE NEW FOXHOLE
And here's where the guerrilla-war comparison gets interesting.
Guerrillas survive because they are mobile.
They don't sit around waiting for the enemy to deliver dinner.
They don't depend on an uninterrupted electricity supply.
They know their environment.
They can carry equipment.
They can endure discomfort.
They can disappear into terrain.
They can improvise.
They can survive without the infrastructure that makes conventional life comfortable.
Now imagine applying those principles to ordinary Canadian disaster preparedness.
Can you walk 10 kilometres if you have to?
Can you carry 10 or 20 kilograms?
Can you climb several flights of stairs?
Can you go 24 hours without refrigeration?
Can you sleep somewhere uncomfortable?
Can you function when it's 35°C?
Can you function when it's -20°C?
Can you carry water?
Can you help somebody else?
Can you evacuate without your vehicle?
Can you spend a day without your phone?
Can you cook without electricity?
Can you navigate without Google Maps?
Can you remain calm when the information disappears?
Those are resilience questions.
And they're a hell of a lot more useful than fantasizing about becoming Rambo.
THE MOST DANGEROUS FANTASY OF ALL
There is another dangerous assumption buried beneath all of this.
That somebody else will save us.
The government.
The military.
The police.
The power company.
The supermarket.
Amazon.
The internet.
Your bank.
Your insurance company.
Your GPS.
Your refrigerator.
Your neighbour.
Your smartphone.
Maybe.
Until they don't.
A military invasion is an extreme-tail-risk scenario.
A power outage isn't.
A heat wave isn't.
A wildfire isn't.
A flood isn't.
A supply disruption isn't.
And physical inactivity isn't.
That's why the military scenario should be used as a giant thought experiment rather than a Hollywood fantasy.
Forget the American tanks for a moment.
What happens if the systems that make modern Canadian life possible simply stop working?
That's the preparedness question worth asking.
CANADA DOESN'T NEED AN INVASION TO TEST ITS RESILIENCE
If the Americans ever did come — an extraordinarily remote scenario by any reasonable assessment — Canada would face an overwhelming conventional military imbalance.
That much is obvious.
But the lesson from asymmetric warfare isn't that Canadian civilians should start stockpiling weapons and practising sabotage.
The lesson is much more boring.
Resilience is a capability.
You build it before you need it.
Physical fitness is a capability.
Basic first aid is a capability.
Knowing your neighbours is a capability.
Growing some food is a capability.
Knowing how to purify water is a capability.
Having emergency cash is a capability.
Keeping essential medications available is a capability.
Being able to walk out of your home with a backpack and keep going is a capability.
Knowing how to operate without the internet is a capability.
Knowing what to do when the lights go out is a capability.
And yes:
being able to get out of your chair is a capability.
THE REAL CANADIAN DEFENCE SPENDING PROGRAM
Maybe Canada's most useful national-security investment isn't another expensive piece of military hardware.
Maybe it's also millions of Canadians becoming harder to break.
Stronger.
Fitter.
More self-reliant.
Better prepared.
Less dependent on uninterrupted convenience.
Less dependent on ultra-processed food.
More capable of functioning under stress.
More comfortable with discomfort.
More connected to their communities.
More knowledgeable about emergencies.
More capable of surviving three days, seven days or two weeks without civilization holding their hand.
Because here's the delicious irony:
The same citizen who can survive a week without a smartphone, carry 20 kilograms of supplies, walk ten kilometres, cook over a camp stove, purify water and help an injured neighbour is already better prepared for almost every disaster imaginable.
No invasion required.
SO, PRIME MINISTER: KEEP RUNNING THE WAR GAMES
If the Canadian government believes an extreme-tail-risk scenario deserves to be modelled, model it.
That's what responsible risk management is supposed to do.
But while the generals are running simulations of armoured columns crossing the border, somebody should run another simulation:
What happens when ten million Canadians suddenly have to walk?
Not to war.
To safety.
What happens when the elevators stop?
What happens when the cars can't move?
What happens when the supermarkets close?
What happens when the air-conditioning fails?
What happens when the internet disappears?
What happens when the pharmacy can't open?
What happens when the refrigerator becomes a box of warm food?
What happens when your neighbour needs help carrying water?
That's the war game ordinary people should care about.
Because the greatest threat to Canadian resilience may not be whether we can defeat a hypothetical invading army.
It may be whether we can function for 72 hours without civilization doing everything for us.
AND THAT'S THE PUNCHLINE
America doesn't need to invade Canada to demonstrate the weakness of a sedentary, hyper-convenient society.
Neither does Mother Nature.
Neither does a blackout.
Neither does a wildfire.
Neither does a flood.
Neither does a heat dome.
Neither does a supply-chain collapse.
They simply remove the conveniences.
Then we discover what we've actually built.
So forget the camouflage.
Forget the Hollywood guerrilla fantasies.
Forget the heroic last stand.
Start with something much less glamorous.
Walk.
Carry something.
Learn something.
Cook something.
Grow something.
Fix something.
Help somebody.
Get comfortable being uncomfortable.
And for God's sake, occasionally leave the chair.
Because if the future really does demand resilience, the first battle may not be fought in the forests of British Columbia or the streets of Toronto.
It may be fought in your kitchen.
And the first weapon to defeat might be the one already sitting in your hand:
the bag of chips.
Adapt or die.
yours truly,
Adaptation-Guide
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