Silence By Design

Why Canada’s “news link tax” didn’t save journalism - it strangled it

Let’s cut through the politicking: the feds passed Bill C-18 - the “Online News Act” - claiming they were stepping in to save Canadian journalism. They said big news died because platforms like Google and Facebook - Meta - were stealing ad money without paying a cent. They broadcast the message loud and clear: “Tech giants have to pay for news content.” Fair enough. But what actually happened? Not only did it smash smaller outlets, it left Canadians more uninformed, less connected, and more prone to junk information.

I want to break this down honestly - no fluff, no spin.

”Rebalancing the digital economy.” That was the official line. Journalism was in crisis - ad revenue collapsed, local outlets shuttered - and platforms were reaping the benefits. So the government said: let’s make them pay. Inspired by Australia’s model, Bill C-18 forced platforms to bargain for links. If they refused, they’d face fines, maybe even court orders.

Sounds like a strong move - if you believe a link has value. But that assumption - the idea that platforms were just leeching free ad-money - wasn’t universally true. 

Meta didn’t pay. They instantly blocked all news content in Canada - on Facebook, Instagram, even Threads. They explained bluntly: the law said any link to any news - big, small, foreign - costs them money. So they just yanked the plug.

That’s called stripping the public square. Overnight, Canadians lost the ability to share or see news on their social media feeds. And let me tell you, this wasn’t some niche side effect. The stats are brutal:

• 85% drop in engagement with news on Meta platforms

• 43% overall decline in news content interaction

• local outlets lost 58% of online reach, national ones 24%

• that’s 11 million fewer views per day - voided from Canadian eyes

And get this - half of Canadians who primarily rely on social media news didn’t even know links were being blocked. Talk about a hidden crisis.

Let me clear - Meta wasn’t mean. They were logical. The law’s liability was huge and undefined. One link = potentially hundreds of thousands of dollars. They chose certainty: no links.

Kent Walker from Google said the same - they feared “uncapped financial liability” just for facilitating access.

So, Google took another route. They negotiated a deal: $100 million/year for five years into a fund run by the Canadian Journalism Collective (CJC). In return - they avoided legal trouble and kept news links alive on Search and Discover.

Let’s be real - that’s not philanthropy. That’s strategy 101: their bread and butter is search. News link = traffic, ad clicks, brand trust. They paid to keep it. Smart.

The Ironic Outcome

Let’s talk about the fallout that no one seems eager to confront: opinion and memes have taken the place of journalism, and we’re all paying the price.

When Meta pulled news links from its platforms in Canada, they didn’t just make a political statement - they created an information vacuum. Nature - and the internet - abhors a vacuum. And when it forms, it gets filled. Not with peer-reviewed facts, local journalism, or thoughtful analysis - but with hot takes, memes, rage-bait, and algorithm-driven nonsense.

Suddenly, a meme with zero accountability is what half the country sees instead of a legitimate news story. And this isn’t some abstract concern. Studies by the Media Ecosystem Observatory and Reuters Institute show that since the ban:

• political meme accounts have exploded in engagement, while legitimate news outlets have plummeted. Pages like Canada Proud and Liberal Party Memes are racking up millions of impressions while The Globe and Mail or The Toronto Star are ghosts on Instagram and Facebook.

• political echo chambers have deepened, as people retreat into partisan “micro-media ecosystems” made up of influencers, unaudited YouTube shows, and meme aggregators.

• there’s been a sharp decline in shared understanding - the kind of collective awareness a society needs to function to vote, to hold institutions accountable.

Think about the cultural implications:

We used to argue over facts. Now we argue over vibes.

A TikTok clip of someone yelling in their car about a news story they didn’t fully read - that’s now the news for many Canadians. A meme mocking a political figure becomes “evidence.” Headlines from blogs masquerading as journalism get passed around like gospel, while genuine investigative reporting can’t even get seen.

It’s not just misinformation - it’s anti-information. It’s teaching people that emotion = evidence and engagement = credibility.

Real World Consequences

• Public Health: During the 2023-2024 wildfire season, Facebook users in affected areas couldn’t share evacuation alerts from local newsrooms. Instead, many relied on community groups where someone’s uncle shared a blurry screenshot from Telegram. That’s not just inconvenient - it’s dangerous.

• Election Integrity: In the lead-up to the next federal election, how many voters will base their decisions on memes and influencer takes instead of policy analysis or fact-based reporting?

• Polarization: Without access to neutral reporting, more Canadians are choosing tribalism over truth. It’s no surprise that political conversations are now more about which side you’re on than what’s true.

This is not the natural evolution of digital media. It’s a direct byproduct of policy decision - namely, Bill C-18 - meant to protect journalism, but which instead crippled its reach and strengthened its competition: narrative-first, fact-optional content.

We have to be honest about what this means long-term. When a society loses access to shared facts, it loses its ability to have meaningful debates, to vote responsibly, to solve problems collectively. What we’re watching is not just the erosion of media. It’s the erosion of a shared national reality.

How Can We Fix It?

Despite public outcry - including polls showing 66% of Canadians saying news should remain free - nothing has changed. Google got a deal. Meta stood firm. And the feds? They praised Google’s concession and used diplomatic pressure on Meta - but no amendments have been made. They call it a test case, a template. But everyone lost - except platforms.

So, if our government modeled it after Australia’s code, what’s that about? How is Australia faring now? Well, Australia’s News Media Bargaining Code (March 2021) required platforms like Google and Meta to negotiate payments with registered Australian news outlets - or face enforcement from the Treasurer. In effect, it was a “link tax” similar to Canada’s Bill C-18.

Unfortunately, evidence suggests the Code hasn’t strengthened their shared national reality - it’s complicated it.

The Code has reduced access and created greater polarization. During Australia’s “Black Summer” wildfires, misinformation surged online: one hashtag, #ArsonEmergency, spread false claims at an alarming speed. Social media won. Facts lost.

Warnings are growing: researchers say platforms are fueling “dark political communication” targeting elections and stirring disinformation in digital echo chambers.

With Meta leaving and Google dominating, there’s growing concern that information flow is even less diverse.

Australia’s experiment shows how well-intentioned policy can backfire:

• it can entrench large, ideologically aligned media powers

• it can drain resources from smaller outlets

• it can create loopholes for misinformation to thrive

• it can leave citizens more isolated from verified, local news.

As written above, Canada’s Bill C-18 mirrors Australia’s in structure - and outcome. Clearly restricting link-sharing doesn’t cure media woes - it reshapes them. And without transparent, equitable frameworks, we risk replacing a public square with a curated echo chamber.

This wasn’t an accident - it was policy without foresight. A powerful lobby pushed a law without contingency. Want to fix it? Let’s be radical:

1. Amend Bill C-18: carve in exceptions for public safety and emergencies

2. Negotiate with Meta: offer measured liability or capped fees

3. Support platforms that amplify diverse voices, not just national chains

4. Fund public-interest projects, not just pay-for-play schemes

We can’t pretend legislation that breaks something as essential as public access to information is a success.

Bill C-18 was hailed as a victory for journalism - but in practice, it strangles the very outlets it is meant to save, fails to hold big platforms accountable, and leaves Canadians with less access to reliable news.

Platforms? They played the system. Feds? They hit pause, not rewind. The losers? Everyday Canadians, trusting their feeds - only to find echoes, memes, and half-truths, if not outright lies.

So, What Next?

Freedom of expression is one of the most cherished rights in any democratic nation - a pillar that upholds open debate, dissent, and the ability for citizens to challenge power without fear of punishment. But in today’s Canada, that pillar is cracking under the weight of hypocrisy and selective enforcement.

Over the last few years, we’ve witnessed an uncomfortable - and frankly dangerous - trend: some voices are amplified and protected by our institutions, while others are shamed, fined, silenced, or even criminalized. What was once seen as a shared right is now granted conditionally, based on how politically fashionable or publicly palatable your message is.

When truckers protested lockdown mandates during the pandemic, they were swiftly labeled extremists and had their bank accounts frozen under the Emergencies Act. When citizens rally peacefully to show support for Israel - or even just to stand against antisemitism - they are often met with counter-protests, disrupted events, and an overwhelming media narrative that paints them as aggressors. And of course, let’s not forget the incident with the Molotov cocktails.

Meanwhile, Free Palestine protests - some of which include openly anti-Israel rhetoric, calls for Intifada, the end of the West, and deeply divisive messages - are not only tolerated, but in some cases, celebrated by public officials and covered favorably in mainstream news.

The problem isn’t the existence of protest - it’s that the rules of free expression seem to change depending on who’s holding the sign.

My next piece will explore how government and law enforcement have responded differently to protests based on their political alignment, the chilling effect this double standard has on Canadians who hold dissenting (but peaceful) views, and what this imbalance reveals about the future of open discourse in Canada.

The erosion of free speech isn’t always loud. Sometimes, it comes through subtle shifts in tone, legal gray areas, and the quiet rewriting of social norms. This is more than censorship - it’s ideological gatekeeping, and it should concern every Canadian, regardless of where they sit on the political spectrum.

Stay tuned.

Ⓒ July 2025. Beki Lantos. All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form by any means without prior written permission of the author.