Every July 1st, we do something very un-Canadian: we brag… just a little. We tell ourselves a familiar story: that we are kind, fair, and the sort of country that says sorry and means it. We tell ourselves that our eggs are local, our meat is ethical, and our food system reflects our values.
But here’s the thing about stories: they’re only as good as the parts we choose to include.
Most Canadians have no idea how animals are raised for food.
As an animal photojournalist, I’ve been behind the closed doors of Canadian factory farms—and these places are not like the glossy marketing tells you they are. I’ve had my boots on the ground in farms and slaughterhouses across the country, and I can say this with certainty: The cruelty happening in Canada is real, and it needs to change.
In 2023, more than 859 million animals were killed for food in Canadian slaughterhouses, and that number doesn’t include the millions who died in transport en route to slaughter.
It’s hard to fathom the scale of nearly a billion animals, but when you’re face to face with an individual animal, the story becomes much clearer. And even more heartbreaking. I’ve photographed hens with extreme feather loss and broken bones. Pigs in gestation crates so small they can’t turn around. Animals arriving at slaughterhouses after hours in transport—panting, injured, and limp from exhaustion. And unfortunately, these aren’t rare examples; they’re standard industry practice.
Do you know there’s no federal law in Canada mandating animal welfare standards on farms? (Seriously, none!) Or that our transport laws still allow animals to go up to 36 hours without food, water, or rest? In fact, we rank among the worst in the Western world for animal transport protections.
Meanwhile, 82% of hens on egg farms in the UK are cage-free. In the U.S., it’s 45%. In Canada? Just 18%.
Eighteen percent. That number should stop us cold. Oh… Canada.
And here’s the kicker: many companies behind this promised to change. They set cage-free targets. They issued press releases. Then, when deadlines approached, their promises quietly disappeared.
This year, nationalism feels louder in Canada. We’re being told to “buy Canadian,” to take pride in what’s homegrown. And in some cases, that’s totally appropriate and wonderful. But when it comes to food, a maple leaf on the label doesn’t guarantee an animal was treated humanely.
I’ve been in our country’s factory farms, and they stink. We’re not just lagging behind when it comes to animal welfare standards; we’re losing ground.
If Canada Day is about anything, it’s about deciding who we want to be. How we want to treat some of our country’s most vulnerable individuals, even when no one’s watching. The Canada I believe in doesn’t flinch from hard truths. It faces them.
So let’s face this one.
We can do that by supporting companies that keep their promises or offer compassionate alternatives. We can ask our grocers where their products come from. We can urge the government to set real, enforceable standards for animal welfare. All of this and more. So that, next year, when we celebrate Canada, we’re not just proud of a nice story; we’re proud of the reality.