Latest News

Editorial, Opinion

It’s time Quebec funds trans futures, not transphobia

Just two months ago, McGill students raised their voices against the Centre for Human Rights and Legal Pluralism hosting a transphobic talk by Robert Wintemute, whose work at the LGB Alliance denies the fundamental rights of trans people under the guise of protection for cisgender gay, lesbian, and bisexual people. The Quebec government has decided to follow McGill’s lead in letting down trans people and economically supporting the erasure of the community. Quebec’s Ministry of Labour, Social Solidarity and the Family confirmed the province’s funding of Pour les Droits des Femmes du Québec (PDF Québec)—a trans-exclusionary so-called feminist organization. 

It is in Quebec’s best interest to immediately stop supporting PDF Québec. As the organization uses its social media platforms to publicly target and misgender trans activists such as Fae Johnston, their actions discredit the province as a body legislating in good faith.

Despite the province’s claims that they do not support the entirety of PDF Québec’s views, financial support amounting to $143,000 for the 2022-2023 fiscal year makes the statement that, in fact, they do. Among the province’s several competent and inclusive feminist organizations, Quebec chose the only one in support of Bill 21––which prevents civil servants from wearing religious symbols—that also excludes trans people from its bigoted platform.

In 2015, PDF Québec presented a brief to the federal government asking that only trans people who had medically transitioned could change their official gender identification on government IDs. Two years later, in 2017, it campaigned to modify Bill C-16—which aims to protect  gender-diverse people from discrimination—to exclude some trans people, arguing that offering them protection would impede on women’s rights. Quebec’s support of the organization has been ongoing since 2019, with $120,000 to $140,000 of tax-payer dollars going to PDF Québec every year. In the context of increasing hate crimes against 2SLGBTQIA+ people across Canada, Quebec is not protecting its own residents. Instead, the government has explicitly endangered the trans community by not providing them a safe and welcome space to exist, while funding an organization that stands in opposition to their very identity. 

Quebec’s support for PDF directly challenges the idea of Canadian exceptionalism, which elevates Canada as a uniquely socially just country in the international order. But Quebec’s political decisions prove that the country is—step by step—following the repressive path of our neighbour south of the border. American lawmakers are passing transphobic bills at an exponential rate, like bans on gender-affirming care or restrictions on name changes. As they become normalized, these laws provide legitimacy for Canadian provinces to implement their own anti-trans agenda. Rather than offer meaningful solutions to the strained health-care system for trans people in Quebec, the province adds to its deadly inaccessibility. By funding a group that only recognizes trans people who have medically transitioned, Quebec ignores the medical discrimination faced by the trans community and propagates biological essentialism.  For Indigenous communities under the imposition of settler colonial constructions of gender, the money the province funnels to PDF Québec would be better spent decolonizing Quebec health care.   

Quebec must collaborate with and listen to young trans activists like  Celeste Trianon, who runs a legal aid clinic helping trans women in Montreal and is a direct target of PDF Québec’s vitriol. Futures for trans people flourishing in the province must recognize the role played by  trans women of colour in the history of the North American queer rights movement. Marsha P. Johnson, Sylvia Rivera, and Miss Major Griffin-Gracy led the 1969 Stonewall Riots and played a key role in the emancipation of gay people in the United States and across the world. The ‘T’ carried the ‘LGB’, and excluding trans people, especially of colour, from today’s feminist movements would be a grave denial of history.


The outcry against Quebec’s trans-exclusionary funding must be infinitely louder. The Montreal student community already rebelled once against McGill’s transphobic talks, and must keep denouncing the powerful institutions that impede upon trans people’s basic rights—human rights. Let’s not forget the individual power that each one of us holds in reaching out to their National Assembly representatives, for a single voice speaking out can go a long way in the collective fight for justice.

All Things Academic, Student Life

Mapping out your career path

My university experience has not been the conventional one. 

I entered McGill as a first-year student in the fall of 2020, during the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic. Classes were online, and I felt disconnected from my fellow student community. Making matters worse, I could not come to Montreal during my first semester, which made me feel all the more distant from student life. Having spent my first two years of university behind a computer screen in my bedroom, at a café, or in a public library, I missed out on so much. Not only was I unable to meet people and make friends at school, I also didn’t have the opportunity to benefit from McGill clubs and events. Like many others, I felt robbed of my university years, which everyone told me would be the best of my life. 

When I look back at it, although my younger self was sad that she couldn’t attend all those fun university events, I now realize there was much more to McGill than just making friends and partying. I wasn’t just missing out on the fun: I was also missing out on the relationships, the in-person learning opportunities, the networking, and the chit-chatting with professors in the hallways. These experiences would have helped me build my career path, find exciting opportunities, and grow personally and professionally. I am now in my third year and graduation is looming. This lack of connection to my school and its prestigious community has slowed me down in my pursuit of a career. 

Graduating is scary. You are thrown into the real world, and cast into a sea of opportunities. This puts a lot of McGillians, especially “COVID-students,” under a significant amount of pressure toward the end of their degrees as they try to plan their careers in an in-person world that Zoom school did not prepare them for. 

The stress of graduating

The McGill community is extremely competitive. McGill is indeed a highly-ranked, global institution where students are concerned with their academic performance. I’m sure you can relate to watching students discussing and judging each other’s successes and achievements, leaving others (and maybe yourself) feeling inadequate.

Michelle Maillet, an undergraduate program advisor in McGill’s geography department, has come across a number of students who feel distressed because of constant comparison with other students. 

“Some people go to their advisors to talk about their insecurities, claiming they don’t know what to do once they graduate,” Maillet said. “These are common discussions that students have behind closed doors with their advisors. But between themselves, they don’t share this concern, for fear of being judged.”  

Students must understand that one “correct” career timeline just does not exist. Just because someone else sounds like they have their whole life planned doesn’t mean that you’re falling behind. While some people are natural planners who meticulously calculate every step of their careers, others prefer to go with the flow. It’s important to strike a balance between planning and being adaptable. 

Graduate applications, job hunting, and looking for internships are arduous and time-consuming tasks. As these processes often take place during the final year before graduation, which for some, is the most difficult year in their degree, McGillians feel increasingly overwhelmed.

Mira Almrstani, U3 Arts, has had a lot on her plate, particularly with the stress of her looming graduation. 

“Honestly, trying to juggle workload with internship or job applications has been difficult, especially being in such a fast-paced, high-demand environment,” Almrstani said. “Trying to find the right step, narrowing down what I want to do with my life after my undergrad, and trying to find something within my skill set and experience has made me feel overwhelmed and stressed.” 

A competitive environment, a devastating COVID pandemic, and difficulty juggling tasks are some of the biggest concerns among students on the verge of graduating. However, this stress can make students forget that it’s alright not to have their whole life figured out. What matters is making the most of your experience and developing as a person. 

What to do with an Arts degree

In life, you never stop learning. You will continuously have new experiences and develop in both your career and your personal life. A lot of students are fixated on jobs that they feel their degrees directly lead to, which can be daunting. This is especially the case for Bachelor of Arts students, who are unsure how to parlay their studies into a profession because a BA isn’t necessarily a professional designation degree. 

“As an Arts student, you must see yourself as a jack-of-all-trades,” Maillet said. “You have qualities and some expertise in a variety of topics. You can navigate working with many different stakeholders and you’ve been taught to be a critical thinker. So it’s not just about the marketable skills. It’s about using your critical thinking skills and knowledge, and continuously developing them.”

Your experiences at McGill matter more than you think. What you do outside the classroom, whether it’s participating in newly-opened clubs and athletics, organizing events, or contributing to student associations (yes, even in your third year), are very valuable for your personal and professional growth. Through these experiences, you will discover more about yourself, learn transferable skills that you can’t learn in class, and take on tasks that will help guide you toward a career you’re interested in. 

So don’t worry too much. Go with the flow, let one experience lead you to the next, and never overlook the value in seizing different learning opportunities in all their forms. 

Benefitting from McGill services while you can

If you need help navigating your post-graduate options, you should also try using Career Planning Services (CaPS). CaPS at McGill is like your personal career GPS, guiding you to your dream job and helping you develop the skills and experience to take it on. With CaPS, you can explore different career options, get expert advice on job search strategies, and learn how to make your resume and cover letter stand out. They also provide interview preparation support to help you impress prospective employers. 

In addition, CaPS offers exciting career workshops and events, employer information sessions, and networking opportunities to connect you with employers and industry professionals. Plus, you’ll have access to exclusive job postings and internships to jumpstart your career. 

With the click of a button, you can find everything on their website. They are also very accessible, open every day from 9 a.m.-5 p.m., and are always present on the second floor of the Brown Student Services Building.

Susan Elizabeth Alersh, associate director of CaPS at McGill, shared some of the benefits of this service in an interview with the Tribune.

“The goal of CaPS is to get students to start thinking about their careers as early on as they can,” Alersh says. “Whether at orientation or before students even come to McGill, they should be aware of these services to get exposure right away.” 

So, as a McGill student, try benefiting from these services available to help you succeed! 

Moving forward toward growth

Although my university experience has not been the one I imagined, I feel that I owe it to my younger “COVID-student” self to take advantage of everything I can on campus in my third year. Whether it’s using the McGill-offered career services, joining clubs and student associations, or even having conversations with professors during office hours, I constantly look for new opportunities to experience, learn, and grow. I’ve found this to be tremendously beneficial, allowing me to find internship opportunities and research assistant positions, and helping me figure out what career I potentially want to pursue. I truly believe that by adopting a similar mindset, others can enjoy experiences that bring them joy, light them up, and, who knows? Maybe eventually you’ll figure out what career path suits you the most, or at least, which step to take next. 

Behind the Bench, Sports

No more settling for mediocre soccer

Canada and the United States are often criticized for their lack of soccer culture. Though some cities’ enthusiasm shows that the two countries’ soccer culture is alive and well, the city-concentrated support for Major League Soccer (MLS) and National Women’s Soccer League (NWSL) teams is not as pervasive as it could be. 

Unlike most successful soccer leagues, Canadian and American leagues—including the MLS and the NWSL—do not have a system of promotion and relegation. Systems of promotion and relegation typically consist of three or four leagues organized according to strength: The top league is where the strongest teams play, the middle league where average teams play, and the bottom league where the lowest-performing teams compete for a chance to advance. Top finishers of lower-tier leagues are promoted to the next-highest level for the following season, while bottom finishers are demoted to the league immediately below their own. 

If North American soccer culture wants to continue to grow its fanbase, it must implement relegation. Without this system in place, teams drop off to an uncompetitive level of soccer as the top spots in the league become unattainable. Low-performing teams become comfortable with knowing that they will remain in their league with guaranteed access to the financial benefits of playing at the top tier. 

Implementing a system of promotion and relegation eliminates that sense of security. Cincinnati FC, for example, was dead last in the MLS Eastern Conference for three consecutive years, facing few consequences—except the disappointment of their fans—for their consistent abysmal performance. The Houston Dynamo has been the Western Conference’s equivalent to Cincinnati, having placed in the bottom three every year since 2019. Although every team naturally wants to win, teams become complacent when there is no sense of urgency, or incentive, to improve. The threat of relegation would put pressure on teams to maintain a competitive level throughout the entire season because too low of a finish could warrant demotion. 

The prospect of promotion, on the other hand, would be an excellent motivator. Teams in lower-ranked European leagues still have heavily invested fanbases who remain invested throughout the season because winning records in lower leagues could actually move them up. To fans of bottom-of-the-table teams, relegation drama can have the same allure as title-race drama. This highly contentious aspect of European soccer is why so many Canadian and American fans opt to support an overseas team instead of an MLS or NWSL team.

The NWSL does not currently have an affiliated second-tier league, but is in the process of planning for one. Introducing a relegation system could complement the new league and would likely propel the growth of women’s soccer, with fans getting to experience the highs and lows that come with the risk of demotion and the prospect of promotion. 

However, men’s soccer in Canada and the U.S. already has a multi-tiered system, with the United Soccer League (USL) as well as USL League One and League Two sitting under the MLS. So, implementing promotion and relegation shouldn’t be a difficult task. Several USL teams already have thriving fan bases that will continue to grow if the more successful teams have the chance to get promoted to the MLS.

Despite concerns regarding poor USL teams’ ability to compete, performances at the yearly Open Cup, a tournament where MLS and USL teams face off, prove otherwise. Last year’s Open Cup in particular showcased the USL talent, with several teams taking down their MLS opponents to advance to later rounds. 

Promotion and relegation will give newly-promoted teams a chance to compete for the top spots in the MLS—just like how the English team Leicester went from being a second-division team to winning the Premier League in less than five years. The MLS and the NWSL must implement promotion and relegation if they hope to recreate spectacles and capture sustained interest from fans. Everyone loves a good underdog story, so let’s create some in North American soccer.

A previous version of this article stated that the Houston Dynamo came in last place every year since 2019. In fact, they placed in the bottom three over this time period. The Tribune regrets this error.

Campus Spotlight, Student Life

What is good sex to you?

When it was announced that a two-time Fulbright-winning Harvard-PhD professor from the University of Alabama was coming to speak at McGill about her new book, most students probably weren’t expecting it to be titled Good Sex

But when professor of gender and cultural studies Catherine Roach visited McGill on March 14 to speak on a panel about the book, she was greeted with a room of very interested students and faculty.

“Good sex is good as in ethical, and good as in pleasurable,” Roach said to open up the discussion. 

Her book, which she actually finished writing while on a fellowship here, covers five “manisextos” for how to change the norms around sex as part of the new gender and sexual revolution, including positive sexuality, equity and inclusion, body positivity, consent, and mutual pleasure.

The panel featured three students from McGill’s Gender, Sexuality, Feminist, and Social Justice (GSFS) program—Ashna Naidoo (U2), Céleste Pépin (U2), and Juliet Morrison* (U2)—who each shared their views of the book. 

Naidoo discussed the hookup culture on campus and how gender norms not only create a double standard but make sex positivity impossible for all students. 

“Women who partake in [hookup culture] are seen as promiscuous, […] men as commendable or honourable,” Naidoo said. 

She also expanded on the challenges that racialized individuals face in partaking in sex positivity under Eurocentric beauty standards.

“The binary convention of what it means to be conventionally attractive in [a] university of tall, skinny, and white […] perpetuates exoticism for anyone existing outside of this,” Naidoo explained. 

Roach’s book covers many of the risks bad sex entails. “As we screw around, sex can screw us up,” she writes.

For panellist  Pépin, one of these risk factors is many individuals’ lack of self-awareness and inability to question their intimate preferences. 

“We also need to stop for a second and think about what our fantasies might mean to us […] I’m submissive, I’m dominant, but why do you feel like that?” Pépin said.

According to Roach, so much of sex is based on gendered scripts that circulate and embed patriarchy through pornography and social media. These norms also factor into conversations surrounding consent.

“Full consent [arises] out of egalitarian gender norms,” Roach said. 

According to all three panellists, the book’s accessibility makes it all the more enjoyable. Roach collected various images, sidebars, and quotes from students at the University of Alabama, making the academic content much more legible.

During the panel, Roach and the students discussed the newly re-released McGill “It Takes All of Us” training module. The attending students also had a lot to say on the matter. 

“We can have these great conversations as students here at McGill, but is the administration actually going to take it into account?” said audience member Gabriela Toharia, U1 Arts.

This comes after multiple student groups, including Sex and Self and the Union for Gender Empowerment, expressed their disappointment in a lack of consultation in the program’s redevelopment, with many questioning how a module for improving the norms around sex can be successful without first consulting with students about what those norms are.

In addition to frustration towards the state of sexual health and safety on campus, there was also a resounding hopefulness in the room, with students and staff wanting to improve both the quantity and quality of sexual education opportunities at McGill.

“What are ways in which we can push for more of this education? We need accessibility to those courses and to that education,” said Dominique Magleo, U1 Arts.

“We need to make education so much more fun and accessible, like this book!” said Pépin, adding that “the sexual and gender revolution is for everyone.”

Roach seemed impressed with students’ passion and engagement. She hopes that this book will create conversation about these important topics, and lead them in a positive direction.

“Sex should do good, and feel good.”

If you’re looking to learn about what’s going on with your sex life, have a read of Roach’s new book, Good Sex, on sale at Le Paragraphe, or online.
*Morrison is currently a News Editor at The McGill Tribune and was not involved in the publication of this article.

Student Life, The Viewpoint

Food Q&A: Surviving lunch at McGill

Campus food. It’s what everyone’s talking about. High prices, insufficient options, and food quality to rival the mouldy scraps in the back of your freezer. I dread to think what Gordon Ramsay would do if he ever got the McGill Food and Dining Services team by the collar, but I can’t lie, I’d be jolly pleased if he did. 

The campaigns are coming in fast now. Let’s Eat McGill’s community assemblies and student protests are leading the charge to shed light on the food insecurity crisis at McGill. But despite students’ best efforts so far, the university is working at a snail’s pace. Campus food accessibility and quality have not improved. So, since they’re uninterested in addressing this problem sufficiently and quickly, we have a pressing issue: What’s for lunch? 

Here are some affordable options to get you through the day. 

Super Savings ($0-3) 

Midnight Kitchen

Midnight Kitchen, a non-profit volunteer collective, is back and on a mission to increase the accessibility of campus food. Operating out of the second floor of the Students’ Society of McGill University (SSMU) building, the student-funded service provides free vegan meals.

And look, I’ve had my fair share of bad vegan food; most are not worth a side eye, but hand on heart, Midnight Kitchen is worth your time. Free, simple, sustainable food that fills you up—take notes, McGill. 

It’s only operating two or three times a month at the moment, as it’s underfunded, but when it is serving, be sure to get there well before 1:00 p.m. because the line will snake fast. 

Homemade sandwiches with ingredients from local grocery stores

Sometimes nothing beats a homemade sandwich. It’s also a smart idea when it comes to lunch-time savings, and when it comes to price, it’s a hard sell to beat Segal’s on St. Laurent for consistent cost savings. 

My advice? Keep it simple. Stick with sandwiches or salads, and let the creative juices flow for dinner. Grilled ham and cheese or a Caesar salad play well for the school day. For me, I like to take inspiration from Marco Pierre White: Sourdough, shallots, anchovies, butter, parsley, and dish-dash-dosh, sorted. You can also mix and match your ingredients with other independent stores. Fruiterie du Plateau, for example, in the Plateau offers cheap, fresh fruit.

Lunch on the go ($4-6)

Super Sandwich

It’s one of our own, as we say. I’ve heard some talk recently that McGill should buy it or allow it to move on-campus. Don’t forget that it’s so super because McGill has precisely nothing to do with it. That and the fresh sandwiches—made in front of you faster than your eyes can blink, and for prices that don’t make you rethink. 

Tim Hortons

Tim Hortons on Sherbrooke troubles me. Not in terms of price, quality, or anything in between, but the waiting in the 20-minute desolate line. I find myself fading in and out of reality, lost. Thankfully, Tim’s $4.99 roast beef and crispy onion and  $5.99 BLT brings me back to reality. And, as it’s just across from campus, it’s a great lunch on the go.

Nearby deals 

Metro hot food counter deals

It might seem counterintuitive to say that McGill students should support Metro, which is perhaps one of the main culprits of the latest food price spikes, but their hot food counter on Parc has some great deals, from a $5.29 chicken leg meal on Monday to $4.99 poutine on Thursdays. Portion sizes are also not for the faint of heart, either. 

Sansalizza

Another deal to consider is up Parc Ave: Sansazzlia’s special of the day––a different nine-inch pizza every day for $6.90. Sansalizza is opposite New Residence, but don’t fret about running into first years—they only go at midnight when they’re listening to Drake, high as a kite. 

A short stroll away 

Café Aunja

I’ve mentioned this before in a café recommendations article, but it’s still worth bringing up: An Iranian café-lunch spot on Sherbrooke, a few steps down from street level, offering a range of sandwiches and brunch bites, as well as coffee and herbal tea. 

News, PGSS

PGSS executives debate restructuring responsibilities to ease workload

The Post-Graduate Students’ Society (PGSS) held its 2022-2023 Winter General Assembly at Thomson House on March 15. Although there were no binding votes or motions passed, attendees discussed the status of the Library Improvement Fund, the potential installation of air-filtration devices across campus, and a restructuring of the PGSS itself.

To start the meeting, Hossein Poorhemati, the current PGSS University Affairs Officer, gave updates on the Library Improvement Fund and addressed concerns about the potentially dwindling library space due to planned construction on the McLennan-Redpath complex as part of the Fiat Lux project. The fund is a recent PGSS project that offers gift cards to students with the best library improvement ideas—PGSS then attempts to implement those suggestions by bringing them to the McGill Library and investing in projects. 

“This construction is taking a lot of resources from the library, so we’re not getting timely responses from the library,” Poorhemati said. “As for the many concerns members have of library space, the library says actual construction will be in two to three years, so there won’t be any issues anytime soon.”

According to the McGill Reporter, construction is set to begin in early 2024.

Following the update, Hannah Derue, a master’s student in neuroscience, brought up the possibility of implementing a small air-filtration Corsi-Rosenthal Box in every Post-Graduate Student Association (PGSA) office, which would cost $5,000 in total. 

“Up to 10-12 per cent of COVID cases become long COVID, so this is something relevant to everybody,” Derue said. “But it is especially significant to make a point that this is also an inclusivity and accessibility problem because COVID impacts certain groups more than others, including our immunocompromised and high-risk demographics, who are members of the PGSS community just like everybody else.”  

The discussion then shifted to Kristi Kouchakji, the PGSS Secretary-General, who wanted to discuss potential changes to PGSS executive titles, such as changing “Secretary-General” to “Internal Governance Officer,” and restructuring committee responsibilities within the next year or two. These changes would hopefully create titles that better represent executives’ responsibilities and curtail executives’ heavy and unmanageable workloads

Poorhemati, however, was doubtful of the proposed restructuring’s timeline.  

“Making these many changes in one or even two years would make it almost certain that PGSS would almost collapse [….] my concern is how quick and fast, and maybe some things that work should be left alone,” Poorhemati said. “Focus should be more on students and student problems, and not necessarily about PGSS and PGSS problems. There is a delicate balance between these two and an unclear line here.”

Kouchakji responded that the divide between student and PGSS problems is precisely what needs to be better defined in the roles of different executive positions.

“PGSS is going to collapse a heck of a lot faster if we don’t start addressing some of these issues. Like it’s becoming an access issue. It’s becoming an equity issue. It’s becoming [an] inclusivity issue,” Kouchakji said. “To continue to say, we’re going to expect […] five [executives] to work more hours than they’re being paid for and two of them to work double if not triple the hours they’re being paid for, I don’t think that that’s necessarily a healthy and productive way for us to continue doing things.” 

Moment of the Meeting:

Although there seemed to be general support for Kouchakji’s revamping proposal, a non-binding straw poll revealed that only eight per cent of attendees wanted to be a part of the committee working on the proposal if the motion passes—50 per cent of attendees voted no, and the other 38 per cent said maybe. 

Soundbite:

“I love unions. I think everyone should belong to a union. I think that’s extremely difficult to implement here because half of us are elected and the other half are appointed.”

— Kristi Kouchakji on the difficulties of unionizing PGSS employees 

Arts & Entertainment, Film and TV

‘You’ delivers trashy thrills upon British relocation

Hello, you” begins the internal monologues of You protagonist Joe Goldberg (Penn Badgley), accompanying the moment the stalker-murderer fixates on yet another love interest. On its fourth outing, the show inverts this setup: Having fled the U.S. following season three’s calamitous climax—in which he murdered his wife Love (Victoria Pedretti) and abandoned his son—Joe finds himself in London, in the hunt for his obsession, librarian Marienne (Tati Gabrielle). He’s landed himself a new identity as “Jonathan Moore,” a cushy job as an English literature professor, and ingratiation within a group of urban elites. However, the arrival of a mysterious “eat-the-rich”  killer, who begins picking off the group’s members, threatens Joe’s serene old-world excursions. When the killer starts stalking and framing Joe, they assume the mantle of “you,” becoming the subject of his monologues as a gripping game of cat and mouse ensues. 

The hallmarks that made You such an enticing show are still present this time ‘round, but they feel diluted. Once again, Joe only partially obfuscates the sinister and predatory nature of his pursuit of a new romantic interest, socialite and art gallery manager Kate Galvin (Charlotte Ritchie), encouraging the audience to indulge in the knotty moral ambiguity of his viewpoint. Badgley’s performance continues to successfully mine the discomfort induced by Joe’s combination of superficial charm and monstrous actions. However, the chemistry between the two leads often feels forced. This is compounded by the scattergun writing of Ritchie’s character, whose cold exterior gives way to infatuation in sporadic moments largely brought on only when the plot demands it. 

You continues its penchant for satirizing the privileged, using their ridiculousness to provide levity from the more murderous moments. Joe’s faux-intellectualist narrative voice has taken great pleasure in ridiculing New York literary elites, L.A. influencers, and wealthy suburban picket-fence dwellers in past seasons. Season four aims squarely at Britain’s class hierarchy, with the killer embodying this anti-elitism. The new characters, from aristocratic toffs with family crests and country estates to foreign royalty and trust-fund babies, each behave as caricatures of greed whom Joe takes quiet pleasure in deriding. 

You’s class messaging shies away from the overtly political, and has always remained secondary to its plot—no one would mistake its earlier seasons for a Bong Joon-Ho film. That said, its targets in England are stereotypes of such cartoonishly exaggerated proportions that it becomes hard for the satire to land. No character better exemplifies this than aristocrat Roald Walker-Burton (Ben Wiggins) who, during a country retreat, proclaims, rifle-in-hand and without a trace of irony, “I’m going peasant hunting.” 

What the show lacks in nuance,  You still delivers in leaps and bounds of unencumbered thrills. As the season progresses, a series of bolder plot twists ensue—murders, kidnappings, and blackmail pile up while Joe faces the threat, or promise, of justice. These developments are irresistibly compelling, fixating the audience on guessing Joe’s next manoeuvre as various mysteries unravel. Admittedly, the high stakes in these moments ask the audience to suspend reasonable disbelief, and more often than not, depend on events that toe the line between being merely outlandish and outright plot holes. This is not to mention the horrendous writer’s-room-psychology underpinning the presentation of Joe as a sufferer of mental illness, drawing more from popular film tropes than any real medical information. 

Nevertheless, amidst the adrenaline of the chase, these weaknesses don’t detract an awful lot from the viewing experience. In its trashiness, You was never built upon a precise or profound depiction of obsession, mental illness, or criminality. Rather, much like Joe’s own literary rhetoric, these themes cloak what was always a more simplistic show built on raw entertainment, unashamedly stimulating audiences’ fascination with the grim and gory. By this more modest metric, You’s fourth season delivers emphatically upon its mission. 

You Season 4 (Part 1 + Part 2) is streaming now on Netflix.

McGill, News

Post-referendum debate erupts among LSA members over lack of clarity and implications of constitutional amendments

After a brief campaign and voting period, the McGill Law Students Association (LSA) announced on March 14 that a change requiring a supermajority—two-thirds of voters—to pass a strike was rejected. Despite the referendum question’s failure to pass, many students are still confused about the implications of the constitutional amendment and are calling for increased transparency from the LSA. 

The question that sparked the most debate among students asked whether voters “agreed to amend the LSA Constitution and Bylaws,” but provided no other details about the amendment and instead directed students to an edited version of the LSA constitution included in a past email. The proposed change to the constitution was that a vote to strike would require a two-thirds majority to pass—ultimately making it harder for students to strike.

Chloe Rourke, a 3L student, found the lack of reference documents linked in the referendum ballot to be particularly odd, considering the referendum questions were extremely brief.

“I’ve never seen a referendum question that referenced a document in an email,” Rourke told The McGill Tribune. “As much as possible, you try and indicate what the substantive changes are in the question [….] I think it’s really important that those are properly contextualized and that that decision be made transparently, that everyone would know what they’re voting for.”

According to an email obtained by the Tribune sent by the LSA Chief Reporting Officer and Deputy Returning Officer to all LSA members, the platform used for voting, SimplyVoting, did not allow the LSA to link to more information on the ballot itself. Emma Linzmayer, the Arts Undergraduate Society Chief Electoral Officer, explained that linking in a referendum question is an uncommon practice, if even possible, that she has not had to deal with. 

“With the pen sketches, each candidate gets 100 words […] it’s about keeping the attention of the voters,” Linzmayer wrote. “So [with] referendum questions […] we just input the question and ask voters yes/no [….] With links, it’s not very explicit in [some] electoral bylaws, but since the word count is so strict, it would be unfair to give some [questions] more persuasion power while others wouldn’t even consider it.”

The move to increase the number of students needed to pass a strike vote stemmed from the LSA strike in early 2022 in protest of the lack of accommodations for students during the Omicron wave of the COVID-19 pandemic. Some students were unhappy that a strike was initiated with only a small majority of students—56.6 per cent—supporting the action.

“Over the course of the strike […] and in its aftermath, the LSA conducted substantial consultations [in 2022]—not only among the general student body, but also specifically with students in classes affected by the targeted strike,” LSA President Charlotte Sullivan wrote in an email to the Tribune. “We received a significant number of messages from students advising us that they were upset and defeated by the small margin by which the strike vote had passed.”

Sullivan also disclosed that many students in the classes affected by the strike decided to cross the picket line because they felt that there was not enough support from law students personally affected by the strike to warrant one.

Law students were also taken aback by the short timeframe of this semester’s referendum. On the evening of March 1, students received an email stating that the campaign period would open on March 6 and close on March 9. Anyone wishing to form an official “No” committee—an official group campaigning for a no vote—had to notify the LSA CRO by March 5. 

The LSA was supposed to run this referendum question about the supermajority amendment in 2022, but scheduling issues led to it being postponed. Sullivan noted that because consultations occurred last year, the LSA did not explicitly publish about the changes because nothing was altered from what was to be presented in 2022.


“I don’t think the process was deliberatel non-transparent at all, and we remained available between the publication of the constitutional amendments package and the beginning of voting to answer any questions about it,” Sullivan wrote. “With that being said, if I could change things now, I would have publicized the content of these amendments prior to the beginning of the campaign period.”

Commentary, Opinion

Don’t bet on Montreal’s new casino

Loto-Québec recently announced its plan to install a mini-casino in the old 1909 Taverne Moderne, a three-storey building adjacent to the Bell Centre in downtown Montreal. The casino would include hundreds of slot machines, sports gambling terminals, and several poker tables.

Jean-François Bergeron, the CEO of Loto-Québec, has stated that the casino’s main clientele would be sports fans visiting the Bell Centre, without being exclusive to this demographic.  Several problems arise with such easy access to gambling, with the psychological and socioeconomic impacts being the most troubling. With such ease of accessibility, vulnerable people in Montreal as a whole are more likely to be lured in at the expense of their finances and health. 

Slot machines are some of the most dangerous gambling devices to get hooked on. Specifically designed to addict the user, the bright array of contrasting lights and noises grab one’s attention—and their pocketbooks. Like other forms of gambling, slot machines produce a “variable reinforcement schedule,” whereby the unpredictability of a win causes a person to keep gambling, driven by the hope that the next attempt might be the winning one. And for the over 300,000 Canadians at severe or moderate risk of a gambling addiction, this proposition has a predictable conclusion––disastrous mental and financial repercussions. 

Health officials and government officials have not bought into Loto’s stance and are aware of the risk that gambling poses to lower-income and racialized populations—in Canada, the practice disproportionately affects Indigenous people who partake in particular. While there may be incentives for a new casino to increase the government’s tax revenue, the mental and financial health of the city’s residents must come first, Finance Minister Eric Girard, stated. He also noted that while a casino would help bring in revenue, public health officials should approve it first and ensure that the new casino’s benefits aren’t overtaken by its harmful effects. 

Some Indigenous belief systems stem from gambling’s original purpose to form community and redistribute wealth, contributing to an increase in Indigenous peoples’ vulnerability to gambling addiction. When white European settlers colonized the Americas, gambling became an integral part of culture in North America as they commercialized it. The establishment of a mini-casino exploiting vulnerable populations for their revenue stream would only perpetuate colonialism, especially when considering how the housing crisis disproportionately targets Indigenous peoples in Montreal. 

Companies are aware of these structural factors and weaponize it to target the bottom line, through predatory gambling—the use of gambling to prey on psychological human weaknesses. Often, companies will exploit low-income communities with selective advertising. While the Quebec government promises to reinvest their earnings from gambling into education or other public necessities, history shows that this claim cannot be taken at face value. In the case of the lottery, winnings often do not come from the communities in which they are bought, while their funds are used to supplement a bigger budget. 

While a mini-casino would have an outsized harm on those vulnerable to its predation, the provincial government has a high incentive to approve such projects to benefit from a massive growth in their tax collection. The Montreal Casino paid $1.3 billion in taxes to the Quebec government in the 2017-2018 fiscal year. Yet, political parties such as Québec solidaire have opposed the project, stating that slot machines and instruments of gambling are not needed in such an area where there is already a wealth of economic activity. 

While initially, a casino might become an economic boon, it could easily hurt specific populations and the overall financial and mental health of Montreal if left unchecked. A casino would foster widespread gambling addiction and further hurt vulnerable people. In the interest of preventing harm and promoting welfare, Montreal shouldn’t bet on casinos to serve its citizens.

Off the Board, Opinion

Stop the swap—I want an apartment, too

CALLING ALL BROKE STUDENTS: Spacious two-and-a-half with a combined living room-bedroom literally two steps from the kitchen, bathroom, and front door! I’ have loved living in this cozy place, paying only $1,775 a month, with no utilities included. Anyone would be lucky to snatch this place up. But I’m only looking to swap. So, any of you first apartment searchers, fuck off, because I know you can’not offer the five-and-a-half, three bathroom, with a balcony the size of the interior, rare gem with lots of brick and natural light apartment that I’m looking for.

Anyone who has recently spent some time on Marketplace looking for a new apartment will know that this is all too common. Any listing with reasonable rent is only available to “swap,” meaning people won’t have to searchlook for an apartment—it’s in the deal. If you want theirs, you’ll have to sell them on your own current living space. While this might be one clever way to avoid rent increases, some of us are being dealt a bad hand from the get-go.

Setting aside the gut-wrenching odds of having a place that meets all of the swapper’s expectations, those of us looking for our first apartments have been virtually locked out of the affordable apartment market. Current tenants leave many of us no choice but to settle for over-priced apartments with exploitative landlords, which can lead to problems like food insecurity and too many roommates if the majority of our paychecks are dedicated to rent. 

Between July 2021 to July 2022, rent in the province of Quebec is about 49 per cent higher than the Canadian average and has been trending upward for the past three years. A place to live is not the only expense university students incur—yes, there is tuition, but volatile food prices have hit wallets pretty hard over the last two years. In 2022, Canadians saw their food bills increase by about 9.8 per cent due to inflation, and we can expect another five to seven per cent in 2023. 

On the other hand, Canadian salaries—base salaries at least, corporate executives who benefit from the precarity of the working class’ living situations are exempt from this analysis—grew by four per cent on average, the highest increase in the last 20 years. But this growth does not even begin to match the inflated cost of living. 

Where does this leave us lowly students? Some soon-to- be fresh out of university like myself—I was lucky to live at home during my studies—are looking for a job that will pay well enough to afford our own space without working 80 hours a week. I am desperate, and finding a decently priced apartment that isn’t a shit hole would be a huge relief. 

I reached a point in my search where I offered to hunt for apartments for swappers. I kid you not when I say that I messaged a man who had a beautiful three-and-a-half with brick walls, lots of natural light, and a big kitchen. I told him that I was sorry for messaging without having an apartment to swap, but I would be willing to find him one if he let me have his. He politely declined my offer, emphasizing that he just wasn’t desperate enough to enlist my house-hunting skills. 

That’s when I hit rock bottom. What had I done? Had I really just messaged a random stranger offering to find him the apartment of his dreams just so that I could pay rent under $1,250? Yes, yes I did. But I am not ashamed or embarrassed. Instead, I choose to believe that I am a product of the “swapping” system we live in.

So, here I am, announcing to the readers of The McGill Tribune that I am looking for a two-bedroom apartment in the Plateau, cat-friendly, and preferably with brick walls and lots of natural light because I will be pursuing my passion for horticulture when I am no longer inundated with school work. And to all you swappers out there, give it up. Nobody is going to trade their five-and-a-half with a balcony for your studio with no windows.

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