For most of Generation X, freedom has been assumed. We came of age in the long shadow of the Cold War, learning stories - from family and in countless movies - of the battles fought and won to secure our freedoms. But we never really had to fight for our own rights. 

We were handed an era of globalization, open markets, and relative political stability—free trade agreements inked, Berlin Wall felled, democracy secured. Our parents, and in some cases our grandparents, were the ones who fought for civil rights, protested wars, and demanded gender equality. We mostly assumed the heavy lifting was done. That history, for all its chaos and upheaval, had finally delivered a stable and predictable future.

Then came the reminders that nothing in history is ever settled. First, the pandemic. Suddenly, personal agency—the bedrock of our existence—became subject to government mandates, lockdowns, and border restrictions. It was a masterclass in forced humility, revealing just how quickly autonomy can dissolve under the weight of a global crisis. Then, as if to drive the lesson home, the past several years of U.S. politics—marked by the bewildering spectacle of the Trump administration—made it impossible to ignore the volatility baked into the institutions we’ve trusted. Canada, long accustomed to regarding its neighbour with a mix of admiration and exasperation, now had to factor in the possibility that the world's most powerful democracy might not be as sturdy as advertised.

And just when it seemed like things couldn't get any more absurd, we found ourselves in a tariff war with the very country that claims to be our closest ally.

For those who missed this episode of the global trade soap opera, it went something like this: the U.S. declared that Canadian steel and aluminum were a "national security threat"—because clearly, nothing imperils American sovereignty like reasonably priced raw materials from a friendly neighbour. In response, Canada slapped retaliatory tariffs on everything from ketchup to bourbon to, of course, maple syrup. The whole thing played out like a surreal family feud where one sibling suddenly decided to set fire to the backyard barbecue. The economic damage was real, but the deeper issue was harder to quantify: the realization that even long-standing alliances could be rewritten on a whim.

Originally a hockey term, ‘elbows up’ was made famous by Gordie Howe, a player so formidable he had a hat trick named after him—goal, assist, fistfight.

Which brings us to the curious case of elbows up in 2025.

Originally a hockey term, ‘elbows up’ was made famous by Gordie Howe, a player so formidable he had a hat trick named after him—goal, assist, fistfight. His signature move? Using his elbows, strategically and unapologetically, to stake his ground and ensure no one shoved him aside. Over time, the phrase outgrew the rink, evolving into a broader mindset: resilience, defiance, and, when necessary, a willingness to push back.

It’s fitting, then, that this posture found its most recent expression in the latest gold medal clash between Canada and the U.S. at the 4 Nations Face Off, a game that wasn’t just about hockey, but about identity—about which nation could outlast, outthink, and outmuscle the other. In the end, Canada won 3-2 in overtime, with Connor McDavid delivering the final blow. It was an unrelenting match—fast, physical, and sharp-edged. A game where victory belonged to the team that refused to flinch.

The pandemic offered a stark preview of what it means to have choices made for us rather than by us.

But the deeper significance of elbows up isn’t about sports. It’s about something much closer to home: the creeping realization that boundaries we once assumed were fixed—around privacy, personal freedoms, and democratic stability—have started to blur. The psychology of freedom tells us that we rarely value autonomy until we feel its absence. The pandemic offered a stark preview of what it means to have choices made for us rather than by us. Some of those decisions were necessary; some felt arbitrary. All of them left a mark.

And so, Generation X—the latchkey kids who prided themselves on self-sufficiency—finds itself in unfamiliar territory: no longer assuming freedom, but grappling with real and present threats to it.

Central to our ideas of freedom are not just movement, but control, choice, agency.

Central to our ideas of freedom are not just movement, but control, choice, agency. The ability to shape our own futures without waiting for permission.

So, where does that leave us?

For starters, elbows up is no longer just a stance—it’s a call to action. I don’t mean throwing down the gloves and starting fist fights, I mean taking our cultural and political agency seriously. Recognizing that complacency is an unaffordable luxury. Voting like it matters, because it does. Paying attention, even when it’s exhausting. Speaking up, even when it’s inconvenient.

Ours is a generation that, for the most part, has avoided grand ideological battles. We have been, if not indifferent, at least content to sidestep the worst of the noise. But comfort breeds complacency, and history has a way of waking us up at inconvenient moments (though there  never really are convenient ones). But some moments demand that we stop, pay attention, and refuse to look away.

Whatever your politics, elbows up is more than just a reaction to this moment. It’s a reminder that, at some point, we all have to decide what matters to us enough to actively stand up and protect it. And when that moment comes, we had better be ready to hold our ground. Because if we don’t, who will?

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