As President Donald Trump demonstrates a continuing interest in taking control of Greenland, the Panama Canal and Canada, Canadians’ reactions have been panicked, as one might expect. The idea that a fellow Group of Seven member could become a generation-defining threat to the country’s sovereignty has yet to fully sink in. But planning against that threat is well under way.
Trump has not ruled out using military force to take over Greenland or the Panama Canal. However, he has stated that economic force alone would be enough to break Canada.
The term “economic force” is vague, though, and despite its typical association with tariffs, could come in a variety of forms. As Canadians and policy makers conceive of measures to apply in what continues to be an unclear and previously unthinkable geopolitical situation, the role of the information economy should be a front-line consideration.
In historical invasions, the public most vividly remembers the physical: physical weapons, protests, policies and announcements. But the contemporary world is decreasing in physicality. Intangible assets play an increasingly important role in the global economy. Content generated by artificial intelligence (AI) is growing harder to distinguish from that created by humans, and the volume of information available on the internet is staggering.
Trump knows this. Since taking office, he has popularized his own social media platform, Truth Social, and established unprecedented presidential ties to Silicon Valley. Meta recently ended its fact-checking program in the United States, directly referencing Trump’s election in its announcement, and Melania Trump is receiving a whopping US$40 million licensing fee from Amazon to make her upcoming documentary.
In the absence of these physical signs, Canadians should be watchful for the ways in which American tech companies’ interests, attitudes and decisions stretch far beyond US borders. Canadians spend hours each day staring at American-made sites on American-designed screens and consume a substantial amount of American-created media.
This environment demands that we develop our capacity to evaluate and measure communications threats, as well as knowledge about historical and global cases that can help us interpret them. Modes of communication have been used in the past — independent of military invasion or economic force — in efforts to change territorial lines, and could be directed at Canadians in future.
The following are a handful of examples where political communications were strategically designed and deployed to impact annexations, referendums and elections.
The Anschluss
In 1933, years before the eventual annexation of Austria by Nazi Germany, Adolf Hitler launched a series of campaigns to entice Austrians to join Greater Germany.
In communications, the Nazis began planting messages of a weakening Austrian economy and incompetence in government. To add to their growing narrative, they staged public demonstrations, started fights with police and used various methods to draw attention to their cause on the streets.
In May 1933, Hitler placed sanctions on Austria’s highly German-dependent tourism industry, charging tourists wishing to cross the border 1,000 Reichsmark to enter for vacation. The subsequent halt to tourism and deterioration of the industry logically and visibly confirmed the narrative that the Germans had been pushing that year, and reinforced their position.
It was not until 1938 that Hitler finally annexed Austria in the Anschluss. When the German army drove in to claim Austria, they were welcomed with cheers and open arms from a society who believed the Germans were key to restoring Austria’s economic stability and national unity. This warm welcome was in no small part because Austrians had been continuously told to believe this for the previous five years.
Brexit
The United Kingdom’s decision to leave the European Union began with a small group of media-savvy, well-positioned players who got their issue to become a national-level referendum.
For decades prior to the announcement of the Brexit referendum, stories were being published to invoke fear of the European Union’s governance and consistently repeated issues targeting immigrant groups. This strategic media buildup led to a mounting challenge of the status quo that normalized the idea of the referendum when it was eventually called.
What many considered to be the most confusing, divisive period of media communications in the United Kingdom’s modern history began after the referendum was set for June 2016. In the months leading up to the vote, the use of private social channels and frequently changing claims created constant uncertainty and disputes over facts. The British public, seldom tasked with voting on policy directly, was completely overwhelmed with confusing messaging about a decision critical to their personal futures.
Five years after the United Kingdom’s exit from the European Union in 2020, the popularity of the Brexit decision has fallen to a historic low. In the months following the vote, the question of foreign media interference, limited fact-checking clarity and social media’s historic role in both Brexit and the US election led the Oxford Dictionary to make “post-truth” the 2016 word of the year.
Taiwanese Influencers
In late 2024, a Taiwanese influencer made a surprise announcement on YouTube that forever changed the way content creators will be perceived by Taiwanese fans.
The video provided evidence of a multi-year operation in which the Chinese government recruited, trained and worked with budding Taiwanese influencers to create political content in support of the island’s annexation.
The Taiwanese are no strangers to being bombarded with messages about embracing Chinese rule, especially during their elections. They have long been suspicious of China’s influence on social media. But the greatest shock in the announcement of the influence operation came from the scale and breadth of its planning. The network’s intentional design has ushered in a new era of soft-power communications in global affairs.
As the lines between entertainment, social media and politics continue to blur in 2025, questions of influencers’ transparency with political affiliations and sponsorships are a growing consideration. In Taiwan, citizens’ social trust in their political messaging has been shaken, and there is policy under way to better expose Chinese-funded communications strategies.
As Canadians continue to discuss how to safeguard the national economy from American threats, it is imperative that the information economy be included in those plans.
The historical cases above illustrate the power and importance of media in defining political control, and the impacts they can have to sway public opinion. As Canadians are bombarded with American-focused messages from all corners of the internet, the consistency and tone of Canada’s independent media will be critical to keeping the country focused on its own story.
Looking ahead, the only certainty about the Trump administration is that it will continue to foster uncertainty. As tariff threats are extended and recommendations to push Canada out of global security alliances are leaked, the anxiety this creates reverberates across households, businesses and financial markets.
Now more than ever, Canadians from all backgrounds and regions need access to an array of media outlets through which they can learn about, understand and face this challenge together.
Amid the chaos — especially as we move into a federal election — Canadian media and politicians should be more intentional about creating spaces for optimism. Stories of innovation, collaboration and hope have exceptional power to reframe focus, spur ideas and build Canada’s sovereign, economic future.
