Volume 114, Issue 18 | Monday, March 17, 2025 | mcgilldaily.com pitted dates since 1911
The McGill Daily is located on unceded Kanien’kehá:ka territory.
McGill Needs to Address Its Inaccessibility Now
The Oscars Don’t Take Animation Seriously
• Fine Words and Buttered Parsnips Being Red River Métis
The Tariff War: Trumped by Canada? From Trudeau to Carney: Canada’s New Political Era McGill’s Sustainability Strategy
CogSurf 2025
St. Patrick’s Day Horoscopes
• Keeping Up with My Delusions Tinder’s Filters Don’t Work for Queer Women P I T C H M E E T I N G WEDNESDAYS @ 6:00 PM DPS OFFICE (1ST FLOOR SSMU BUILDING)
editorial board
3480 McTavish St, Room 107
Montreal, QC, H3A 0E7
phone 514.398.6790 fax 514.398.8318
mcgilldaily.com
The McGill Daily is located on unceded Kanien’kehá:ka territory
coordinating editor Andrei Li managing editor Sena Ho
news editor
Adair Nelson
commentary + compendium! editor
Arismita Ghosh
Youmna El-Halabi
culture editor
Evelyn Logan features editor
Elaine Yang
science + technology editor Vacant
sports editor Vacant
video editor Vacant
visuals editor
Eva Marriott-Fabre
Nikhila Shanker
copy editor
Luxe Palmer
design + production editor Vacant
social media editor
Lara Arab Makansi
radio editor Vacant
cover design
Eva Marriott-Fabre
contributors
Eren Atac, Lisa Banti, Meredith Cloutier, River Eyamie, Sophia Di Genova, Claire Grenier, Aurelien Lechantre, Eva Marriott-Fabre, Luxe Palmer, Lhassa Le Gall Di Renzo, Erandy Rogel, Nikhila Shanker, PearceTaï Thomasson
McGill Needs to Address Its Inaccessibility Now
Montreal is a hilly landscape riddled with narrow sidewalks and bustling storefronts. As we leave the winter behind and embrace spring, it is easy to forget the difficulty many people have in navigating this city. Montreal is home to approximately 500,000 residents with mobility impairments, as reported by a 2019 census of metropolitan areas in Canada. Despite around 16 per cent of Montreal residents having at least one type of disability, the province of Quebec has the lowest annual disability assistance income in the country, reported at $16,355 in 2022. As a result, residents have issued complaints about the lack of accessibility in many of Montreal’s public spaces, such as the Société detransportdeMontréal (STM) metro system. The metro system fails to account for its disabled population, with only 29 out of its 68 total metro stations — less than half — having elevators.
In response to these criticisms, the city of Montreal announced its new universal accessibility policy last December, hoping to aid accessibility in four main areas: 1) architecture and urban planning; 2) programs, services, and employment; 3) communications; and 4) awareness and training. However, this plan was met with backlash from local activist groups, such as Ex Aequo, a Montrealbased organization that promotes and defends the rights of those with disabilities, which stated in an interview with the Gazettethat the plan lacks systemic measures aimed at targeting real change. Despite the city’s recent efforts to improve accessibility, Montreal has only ever made fickle promises to its residents. Montreal is currently ranked at a Level 2 out of 5 for accessibility according to the mayor’s assessment, which is the same level Montreal was at in the early 2000s.
McGill’s approach to accessibility has been no different. Many of the buildings on campus are only partially accessible. For instance, building entrances for those who require ramps or elevators are often not clearly indicated. Furthermore, several buildings on campus have no elevators, including McTavish 3438, restricting accessibility past the first floor. Most of the infrastructure on campus designed to improve accessibility — primarily ramps — is ill-maintained during the winter due to the snow and salt.
For those with mobility impairments, McGill provides an adapted transport service, which is free for students and faculty members. However, individuals seeking to use this service are required to present medical documentation; this lengthy process may be especially difficult for international students to complete. In winter, when the roads are slippery and the snow is poorly plowed, it is even more challenging to get to and from campus, making McGill’s shuttle service essential. McGill does not rise above the bare minimum regarding its accessibility services, clearly reflecting the university’s inaction toward ensuring the best possible campus experience for its students.
in student experience, research and knowledge, outreach, workforce, and space. Accessibility encompasses much more than mobility, including mental health, financial accessibility, and gender-affirming care. However, with this wide-ranging definition of accessibility, this new phase still lacks a clearly detailed path of action for the university. McGill has not provided a step-by-step list of tasks with deadlines on when they seek to fulfill their goals, leaving many in the dark about what this accessibility strategy will be focused on accomplishing.
At McGill, providing students with the best academic experience should be the main priority. Many of McGill’s strategies to help improve accessibility don’t take into account students’ perspectives and are often there as a vanity boost to paint the university as a diverse and inclusive setting. Yet, the McGill administration continues to pump millions of dollars into infrastructure projects, such as the Y-intersection that has been uprooted to create a more “pedestrian-friendly” campus. Instead of focusing on cosmetic renovations, McGill needs to invest in creating more accessible spaces, since these define how students navigate campus the most.
With the most recent budget cuts, McGill has also been slowly removing another source of accessibility for students: financial accessibility. Many faculties are being forced to make major cuts: in particular, the Arts are facing 15 to 20 per cent reductions in teaching support budgets, which includes pay for teaching assistants (TAs). As a result, faculties are choosing to reduce the number of TA positions available per semester, or simply reposition TAs as graders or other academic casuals. This means that many graduate students who rely on their TA position as an extra source of income, especially with rising costs of living, are being cut off.
Students who work at other parts of the university, such as the Le James Bookstore, have also been facing the repercussions of these budget cuts. The campus bookstore laid off all its part-time student positions. Tuition increases have already made the university inaccessible to many out-of-province and international students.
3480 McTavish St, Room 107
Montreal, QC H3A 0E7
phone 514.398.690 fax 514.398.8318
advertising & general manager
Letty Matteo
ad layout & design
Alice Postovskiy
Amidst these major shortcomings, McGill announced a new phase in their accessibility strategy last October. Guided by the McGill Equity Team, the plan seeks to promote inclusion
In 2017, the Dailypublished a piece discussing McGill’s physical, financial, and social inaccessibility. Despite the article being over nine years old, students still face many of the same problems. In 2023, the Editorial Board discussed accessibility problems in Montreal during winter. Nevertheless, as many critics of the city’s new accessibility plan have stated, there has not been major change in over twenty years. As a student body, we must continue to make it clear to McGill that addressing inaccessibility on campus should be an utmost priority. Support Montreal-based initiatives and organizations, such as Regroupement des activistes pour l’inclusion au Québec (RAPLIQ), Ex Aequo, and the Montreal Association for the Intellectually Handicapped (MAIH), that seek to support the members of our community with disabilities and bring awareness to institutions that fail to provide accessibility.
Auden
Akinc | Visuals Contributor
The Tariff War:
Trumped by Canada?
An uncertain future for two long-term trade allies
Lhassa Le Gall Di Renzo News Contributor
Recently elected US President Donald Trump has had a very busy Spring Break — unlike most of us. Indeed, the much-feared tariff war has finally ensued. However, it seems to have lasted a whole three days before President Trump walked back on his threat by announcing a one-month exemption on most of the tariffs, yet again.
On March 4, Trump activated a blanket 25 per cent tariff on imports from Canada and Mexico encompassing virtually all goods.
A primary aspect of President Trump’s campaign was the promise of a better economy and lower inflation, but the economic impacts of these tariffs seem to contradict this. Americans and Canadians alike have growing concerns about Trump’s tariff war as duties of this magnitude inevitably lead to higher prices, raising the cost of virtually every good in both Canada and the US.
Economists have warned for
years that tariffs and anything short of free trade inevitably lead to inefficient allocation of resources and marginally worse outcomes. Trump’s tariffs will make most Canadian goods less competitive by making them more expensive. American importers will now have to pay the US government a 25 per cent levy to bring them into the country.
Tariffs lead to higher costs for manufacturers to acquire materials such as steel, agricultural products, machinery, energy, and building materials. To retain profit margins, these costs are, more often than not, passed onto the consumer. This leads to rising prices for everything that crosses the border: groceries, cars, houses, electricity, gas, and more.
The US and Canada have been allies from their very formations and are intimately woven together in trade. “A tariff war has no winners,” former Canadian Prime Minister Trudeau stated after the activation of the tariffs.
What are President Trump’s goals with this economic war? He has stated multiple times that
been mentioned across Trump and Elon Musk’s X accounts: protecting national industries, growing American manufacturing, or even blatantly crippling the Canadian economy to better annex it as the 51st state.
Canada has made its feelings clear on what Trudeau called a “completely bogus and … unjustified” trade war. In response to Trump’s tariffs, Trudeau announced an equivalent 25 per cent tariff on 30 billion dollars’ worth of American goods and promised to tariff another 125 billion dollars of goods if the president did not cease his actions in the next three weeks. Later that day, President Trump posted on X further threatening Canada, saying that he will match any retaliatory tariffs: “Please explain to Governor Trudeau of Canada, that when he puts on a retaliatory tariff on the US, our reciprocal tariff will increase by a like amount!”
An inspiring wave of unity has overtaken Canada and its people from coast to coast. The federal government, provincial governments, and citizens are coming together to boycott US products and buy local. As the US’s largest alcohol trading partner, Canada has begun to pull American booze off the shelves. Unlike tariffs, this measure will have no economic impact on Canadians and instead directly decrease the sales of American liquor companies, who will then lobby against the tariffs. Politicians from all parties are uniting in a call of resistance, urging Canadians to never back down when facing a “bully.”
The federal government, provincial governments, and citizens are coming together to boycott US products and buy local.
and not retroactive — meaning all taxes paid between Tuesday and Thursday are not refundable — this still gave many industries, especially the auto and agricultural industry, a sigh of relief.
On March 7, Trump threatened to levy a 250 per cent tariff on dairy products from Canada, citing Canada’s own 241 per cent tariff on US dairy imports as a “rip-off.” However, Canada’s tariff primarily protects Canadian farmers; as dairy is a very minor export to Canada, this economic measure stands to have minimal effect on either country.
Trump also stated that he wishes to place tariffs on Canadian lumber. However, experts in the US say increasing lumber costs could have devastating effects on the American economy, resulting in increased construction and housing costs. Economists and homebuilders caution that the US does not have the necessary industrial capacity to meet the demand for lumber through American resources alone.
the tariffs will pressure Canada to secure its border and stop the “flow of fentanyl” into the country. However, statistics show that flows of fentanyl into the US from Canada account for less than one per cent of all fentanyl seized. Moreover, since January, the Canadian government has implemented a 1.3 billion dollar border plan that includes adding 10,000 border security personnel workers and appointing a “fentanyl tzar” — but this did not stop President Trump from enacting the tariffs.
Other potential reasons have
[Tariffs] lead to rising prices for everything that crosses the border: groceries, cars, houses, electricity, gas and more.
Further resistance from Canada ensued on March 6 when Ontario Premier Doug Ford announced that come March 10, a 25 per cent surcharge on electricity would be added to power exports to Minnesota, Michigan, and New York, should Trump continue with his actions. Trump has already acknowledged the US’s dependence on Canadian electricity by placing a lower 10 per cent tariff on energy imports from Canada. Indeed, the US is a net importer of energy from Canada, buying around 50 per cent more than it sells to its neighbour. The ten per cent tariff already in place, topped with Ford’s proposed 25 per cent surcharge, would lead to a 35 per cent increase in the cost of electricity for the approximate 36 million Americans residing in the states affected — a devastating increase for lower-income households.
The growing resistance to this unwarranted economic attack on Canada may have prompted President Trump to rethink his course of action: not 20 minutes after Ford’s announcement, Trump announced a one-month exemption on all tariffs affecting products that comply with the Canada-USMexico Agreement (CUSMA). While only affecting around half of the products originally tariffed
The stock market has reacted negatively to the tariff war; the S&P 500 has plummeted by about four per cent in the past week.
President Trump’s aims remain unclear and his current proposed actions stand to hurt Americans just as much, if not more, than Canadians. With the uncertainty of more tariffs looming in the coming months, the effect on both economies remains unknown. While the world holds its breath as it watches two long-standing allies bicker, one thing remains certain: we have entered a new era for international relations between Canada and the United States. President Trump has tarnished the trust that has made our neighbouring countries prosper for over two centuries.
Editor’s note: This article was written before Premier Ford and President Trump stepped back from their threats of 25 per cent tariffs on US imports of Ontario electricity, and 50 per cent tariffs on Canadian steel and metal imports, respectively. As of the time of publication, the CanadaUS trade spat is still rapidly developing.
From Trudeau to Carney: Canada’s New Political Era
As Trudeau bows out, Carney steps in — bringing a banker’s playbook to Canada’s political stage
Lisa Banti Staff Writer
After more than nine years in office, Justin Trudeau has resigned as Prime Minister of Canada and handed the keys to the country over to Mark Carney, a high-profile economist and former Governor of the Bank of Canada and the Bank of England. His election as leader of the Liberal Party and subsequent appointment as Canada’s 24th Prime Minister is an important moment in the country’s political history. With economists growing increasingly concerned with the global economic outlook, especially on the back of trade frictions with the United States under Donald Trump, Carney’s standing as an expert in finance has marked him as a steadying influence in a tumultuous time. His appointment signals a turn toward technocratic values, at a time when Canada must focus on what it means to be credible in a changing, unpredictable fiscal context where geopolitics may play out.
Major policy achievements during Trudeau’s run, which started in 2015, included legalizing cannabis, implementing a national carbon pricing policy, and negotiating key bi- and trilateral trade agreements like the CanadaUnited States-Mexico Agreement (CUSMA). His government also rolled out social programs such as the Canada Child Benefit and a national childcare program designed to lift children out of poverty and make early education more affordable. However, his leadership was not without controversy. Approval ratings at home plummeted as inflation surged, a housing crisis emerged, and divisions within the party broke out. Meanwhile, economic tensions inched higher after Trump slapped a 25 per cent tariff on Canadian imports that led to a tit-for-tat response by Trudeau’s government. These woes, in addition to increasing public dissatisfaction, ultimately forced Trudeau to step aside, providing an opportunity for the Liberal Party to relaunch under new management.
But for all the gravity of his leaving, Trudeau’s final moments in office were not without a trademark touch of levity. An image of him walking out of Parliament on March 10, 2025 — with the chair under one arm and his tongue
stuck out in jest — caught the public eye in a candid moment. Some considered the moment a testament to Trudeau’s charm and relatability; others saw it as emblematic of his occasionally overly relaxed style of leadership. It was, in any case, an apt distillation of his tenure: a leader who mixed serious governance with personal and sometimes idiosyncratic style.
As Trudeau steps aside, Carney presents a very different leadership profile. As the only person to have served as the Governor of the central banks of two G7 countries, he is historically placed as an eminent economist. During the 2008 financial crisis, his strong actions as Bank of Canada governor — cutting interest rates and keeping liquidity flowing — helped Canada recover more quickly than most of its peers. He was appointed Governor of the Bank of England in 2013 and worked swiftly to calm financial markets during the turbulence around Brexit. Now, in his capacity as prime minister, Carney’s crisis management experience is widely seen as an invaluable asset for confronting domestic and international economic challenges alike.
His elevation to Liberal leader wasn’t only a matter of his own credentials but also a response to Canada’s political moment. The Liberal Party’s choice to favor a technocrat over a politician in the traditional sense signifies an embrace of the data-driven, expert-based form of governance. Public mood has also been critical — Canadians are searching for a leader who can offer financial stability and long-term economic growth amid continuing trade disputes and signs of economic turbulence. Carney’s non-partisan credentials and crisis-tested leadership provide some comfort, but with no prior experience in or proximity to politics, doubts about how he’ll approach coalitionbuilding, public engagement and legislative negotiations have arisen.
Carney’s influence in shaping Canada’s global role, as well as its standing within the Liberal Party, is widely expected to be significant. His economic pragmatism and emphasis on fiscal responsibility have the potential to alter the party’s focus and, some fear, may redirect it toward more moderate policies. North of the border, his steadfast commitment to defending
Canada’s sovereignty, from external pressures — particular ly from the US — is a clear signal of where he intends to go on issues of economic independence and diversification. His dream of diversifying Canada’s trade relationships beyond the United States may lead the country to engage more with the European Union and other global markets as alternative partners to reduce dependence on a single market. Carney immediately inherits complex and urgent problems as he takes office. The paramount of these concerns is an increasingly aggressive trade conflict with the US that has weighed down Canada’s exportsensitive economy. Trump’s tariffs have spurred domestic economic uncertainty, raising calls for tougher negotiation tactics and trade diversification. In addition to outside pressures, Carney will have to confront internal economic issues, such as poor growth, inflation, and housing affordability. While Carney aligns ideologically with the Liberal Party, his reputation as a policy expert rather than a seasoned politician suggests he
Eva Marriott-Fabre | Visuals Editor
may need time to adapt to the dynamics of political life, build public support, and manage internal party challenges.
On the eve of his departure from politics, Trudeau addressed the nation, sharing his thoughts on his time in office and the strength of Canadians while calling on the people to stay true to democracy and unity. “I am so proud of Canadians. I’m proud to have served a country full of
The switch from Trudeau to Carney marks one of the most massive political turnovers in modern Canadian history.
people who stand up for what’s right, rise to every occasion, and always have each other’s backs when it matters most,” he said in his farewell message. His comments highlighted the importance of solidarity and collaboration going forward under a new government.
The switch from Trudeau to Carney marks one of the most massive political turnovers in modern Canadian history. It represents a clear break from personality-driven leadership to an emphasis on economic expertise and crisis management. Although Carney is well-respected for the financial skills he developed in previous jobs, his capability to govern and engage with the public remains to be seen. With a new governing season upon us in Canada, observers are listening closely with good reason, eager to see if his tenure on the driver’s seat can usher in economic stability, reinvigorate national sovereignty, and guide us smoothly through the trials and tribulations of both domestic and international politics.
Ambition and Long Term Emphasis
In McGill’s Sustainability Strategy
New Climate and Sustainability Strategy demonstrates McGill’s commitment to remain a leading institute in sustainability
Aurelien Lechantre Staff Writer
While McGill implemented its first environmental policy in 2001, it was only in 2010 that the university’s first sustainability policy was adapted. Sustainability, defined by the United Nations Brundtland Commission as the practice of developing and meeting present needs without compromising the ability of future generations to do the same, has been central to McGill’s environmental action and policy ever since. In January, Alan Desnoyers, Chair of McGill’s board committee on Sustainability and Social Responsibility, announced a new Climate and Sustainability Strategy for the years 2025 to 2030. The new strategy, the board claims, “sets out defined objectives and a strategic path to address today’s urgent environmental challenges.”
Upon the publishing of the strategy, François Miller, Executive Director of McGill Sustainability, told the McGill Reporter that “collectively, we are transforming McGill into a world leader in sustainability.” To do so, the new plan focuses on three core domains: climate change, biodiversity loss, and pollution. The university has adopted a
In light of this goal, McGill aims to reduce greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions by 45 per cent from those reported in 2015.
bi-chronological approach, with long-term ambitious objectives and more pressing issues to be solved by 2030.
The report first outlines the long-term plan of achieving carbon neutrality by 2040, in balancing the university’s carbon emissions and absorption. In light of this goal, McGill aims to reduce greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions by 45 per cent from those reported in 2015. The university
is also looking to increase climate resilience in facing increasing heatwaves, cold temperatures and extreme precipitation, both in frequency and intensity, and plans to address all critical climate risks on campus before 2030.
To remedy biodiversity loss, McGill pledged to become a Nature Positive University in 2022, joining over 500 higher education institutions worldwide in the effort to foster biodiversity on their campuses. Thus, by 2030, McGill plans to foster biodiversity in 30 per cent of our campus’s green spaces. This means managing our green spaces in a more responsible way: adapting mowing frequency, restricting chemical treatment, targeting only invasive species, and adding planting.
McGill is also currently pursuing goals of becoming a zero-waste institution by 2035. The university launched their first reduction and diversion of landfill initiative in 2018. In 2022, McGill created over 700 new sorting stations all over campus and compost stations in key academic buildings to further diminish landfill in 2022. Adopting a new meal plan approach in 2023 was another change made in hopes of lessening waste. The updated Climate Strategy outlines McGill’s goals to divert 70 per cent of landfill waste by 2030 to remain in line with its 2035 zero-waste objective.
Overall, these sustainability goals are consistent with McGill’s previous commitments, as the Climate and Sustainability Strategy for 2020-2025 contained the same core objectives. Indeed, achieving carbon neutrality by 2040, which has been a goal since 2017, and stayed consistently without any reassessment or delay discourse from McGill’s part. In other words, McGill is staying on track with its objectives. Proof of McGill’s continued engagement lies in their achievement of a Platinum STARS (Sustainability Tracking, Assessment and Ranking System) rating in March 2024: this achievement came six years before the deadline they had set, moving upwards from a silver rating only twelve years prior. The university’s efforts are confirmed when looking at the Association for the Advancement of Sustainability in Higher Education’s (AASHE) 2024 Sustainable Campus Index, where McGill ranked 8th out of 189 institutions.
However, an integral component of Climate and
Sustainability initiatives at universities has to do with research and learning. McGill identifies not only research and learning as its “core mission,” but also the spreading of knowledge it should lead to. This
Claire Grenier | Visuals Contributor
but also showing them how to participate themselves and take action on campus. Learning about sustainability has been incorporated into university life through classes and modules, but also through workshops, clubs,
Yet, despite the ambitious longterm goals and the emphasis placed on research and learning, Henry wishes McGill adapted to the “unexpected additional global emissions” and established more “aggressive” goals, as stated in an email to the Daily
is especially important knowing that Universities Canada warns that many higher education institutions do not communicate their actions or their research efficiently in sustainability. For example, in 2023, McGill established a sustainability module allowing students not only to further understand sustainability,
and activities that give students the possibility to engage in a variety of ways.
The role of universities in sustainable development holds far more responsibility than simply making campuses ‘green.’ Evan Henry, Associate Director of the McGill Sustainability Systems Initiative (MSSI) states that,
in setting its carbon neutrality goal ten years ahead of what Canada promised at the 2015 Paris Agreement, “not only are we playing our part, we are showing leadership, for not just Canada but for universities worldwide.”
In other words, the new 20252030 Climate and Sustainability strategy not only reveals McGill’s ambition and commitment to sustainable development, but sets this same high standard for others. This seems to be a joint effort in Canadian universities: Sherbrooke University, the University of British Columbia, and Thompson River University all have a Platinum STARS rating alongside McGill. Yet, despite the ambitious long-term goals and the emphasis placed on research and learning, Henry wishes McGill adapted to the “unexpected additional global emissions” and established more “aggressive” goals, as stated in an email to the Daily. Overall, if the new strategy ambitiously covers university action both on campus and beyond, it will become effective in the long-term and may be found lacking in more tangible shorter-term objectives.
Connecting Minds, Making Waves
The innaugural edition of CogSURF arrives at McGill
Lhassa Le Gall Di Renzo News Contributor
On February 27, the first ever Cognitive Science Undergraduate Research Forum (CogSURF) took place in the SSMU Ballroom, chaired by Honours Cognitive Science student Le Thuy Duong Nguyen. Cognitive science is a multidisciplinary field bringing together insights from psychology, linguistics, computer science, philosophy, and neuroscience, to study the mind and behavior in humans, animals, and machines. CogSURF’s mission is to “unite passionate undergraduate students from Montreal’s leading universities to cultivate interdisciplinary collaboration, exchange ideas, and tackle some of humanity’s greatest unsolved questions.”
The event brought together students and faculty from multiple universities to share their ideas throughout the day.
CogSURF started off with a keynote by Dr. Nancy Kanwisher, Professor of Cognitive Science at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. The itinerary began with flash three-minute student research presentations, followed by a poster showcase and a panel discussion with leading experts. CogSURF came to a close with a networking event within the historic halls of McGill’s Faculty Club.
CogSURF’s flash talks were a highlight of the conference. Challenging students to present their research in three minutes or less, they provided an insightful exercise for undergraduate researchers to gain confidence in presenting their research to a large audience. Topics spanned a diverse array of subjects: undergraduate students came onstage to speak on the effects of hallucinogens on the brain, childhood cognitive skills and emotional problems, the health impacts of gendered lifestyles, and how genetic markers of pathological insonia could help shed light on Alzheimer’s disease, to name just a few. Speakers were able to present their research in a more personal manner during the poster showcase, allowing them to share
discussions about their research with students and professors from various universities.
In the afternoon, Dr. Ian Gold, Dr. Stevan Harnard, Dr. Karim Jerbi, and Dr. Charles Reiss, Professors of Psychology and Cognitive Science from McGill University, UniversitédeMontréal, and Concordia University; and Dr. Doina Precup, a leading researcher in artificial intelligence, convened for an informative panel to discuss a diverse range of cognitive science topics, notably on sentience and Large Language AI Models. An illuminating discussion, moderated by Nguyen, unfolded about current research methods and findings in these fields, as well as key challenges in the study of consciousness. The panelists ended their conversation with a strong message to the audience, urging them to consciously promote creativity in their research.
Finally, Nguyen wrapped up the conference by thanking everyone for their participation. In her parting remarks, she expressed her hope that the impact of CogSURF would continue to grow year after year as the messages delivered at this event echo beyond the walls of the ballroom and create waves in our peers’ research projects. The forum ended with a final and apt concluding statement by Nguyen: “never stop connecting minds and making waves.”
In the later hours of the evening, students were lucky to step inside the beautifully ornamented walls of the Faculty Club, normally reserved for university professors. Participants, students, professors, speakers, and staff alike joined a networking event in the interest of expanding the field of cognitive science. All in all, CogSURF was a full day promoting connection, discussion, and the sharing of knowledge around the innovative and growing sector of cognitive science. The CogSURF executive team has high hopes for next year’s conference and they hope to see you there!
And so just as ripples spread when a drop hits the surface of the water, each speaker had the opportunitiy to illustrate how their ideas and experiences can create ripples throughout our collective lives.
Eren Atac Staff Writer
MThe Oscars Don’t Take Animation Seriously
How the Academy limits itself by snubbing animated films
y favourite movie of 2024 is Look Back
It’s an animated film about two girls who draw comics together, discovering the strength and resilience of art along the way. It was my top movie of the year by a long shot, so I was dismayed that it got zero recognition at the 97th Academy Awards — no nominations whatsoever. I wasn’t too surprised, though. The Academy has always been an Americentric institution, which doesn’t bode well for a somewhat obscure Japanese animation. But Look Back’s snub made me wonder what other animated movies had been ignored throughout the Oscars’ lengthy history. As it turns out, the Academy has a problem with animation: one that goes deeper than an obscure movie getting snubbed here and there.
One look at the Wikipedia page for animated Oscars nominees makes it abundantly clear that the Academy doesn’t respect animation. Animated films rarely get nominated for any awards outside their designated categories of Best Animated Feature and Best Animated Short Film (the two exceptions being Best Score and Best Original Song). While I would like to see more animations nominated for awards like Best Adapted Screenplay and Best Director, it’s understandable that the medium is too unique to go head-to-head with liveaction films in these categories. What bugs me, though, is the complete lack of foreign animated nominations in any category. Only about 20 foreign films have been nominated in the 24-year history of the Best Animated Feature category, a clear sign of the Oscars’ Americentricism. Worse yet, only three foreign animations have ever been nominated for a non-animation category — Flee (2021) for Best International Feature and Best Documentary Feature, Flow (2024) for Best International Feature, and The Triplets of Belleville (2003) for Best Original Song.
This leads us to the Academy’s next major issue with animation: the Disney bias. Disney produces the vast majority of animated nominees for any award. 15 of the 24 Best
Animated Feature winners were made by Disney. I understand that animation would not exist as it does today without Disney’s influence. However, the field has grown significantly since the days of Steamboat Willie (1928). Current animation is a diverse medium with incredible depth in its storytelling. It feels unfair that one studio, no matter how significant, should have an effectively guaranteed
live-action features produced yearly, but this just feels lazy.
2017 saw the single most egregious example of Americentricism costing a foreign movie its due recognition. 2017’s Best Animated Feature nominees included the prestigious ranks of such movies as Ferdinand and, better yet, The Boss Baby. For those not in “the know” when it comes to high art, The Boss Baby is about a
A Silent Voice is a 2016 Japanese coming-of-age film directed by visionary filmmaker Naoko Yamada and animated by Kyoto Animation. It follows Shouya, a teenage boy who relentlessly bullied his deaf classmate, Shouko, in elementary school. Years later, Shouya himself became a victim of bullying and fell into depression as a result. In an effort to repent, he reconnects with Shouko. A
Are you really telling me that the Academy, with all its wisdom and resources, could not find a more deserving movie than Shark Tale to take a spot in the 2004 race? I understand there are far fewer animations than live-action features produced yearly, but this just feels lazy.
nomination any year they put out a film. This goes for non-Disney American animations as well. Are you really telling me that the Academy, with all its wisdom and resources, could not find a more deserving movie than Shark Tale to take a spot in the 2004 race? I understand there are far fewer animations than
baby who wears a business suit and speaks with the voice of a grown man — a novel concept, to be sure — possibly even Oscarworthy. But at the risk of falling into pretension, let me tell you about another animated film that might just surpass The Boss Baby in its cultural relevance and artistic merit.
Silent Voice delicately tackles topics like bullying, anxiety, and children with disabilities. It confronts harsh realities; it’s biting, yet soft. Its animation is jaw-droppingly gorgeous. And, according to the Academy, it is less deserving of an award than The Boss Baby. My movie of 2024, Look Back, is another
similar case (although 2024 thankfully didn’t have a Boss Baby analog in the running). Notably, only one non-Studio Ghibli Japanese animation has ever been nominated for Best Animated Feature: Mirai in 2018 — odd for a country with such a prolific animation scene.
Don’t get me wrong — I (mostly) don’t hate The Boss Baby. It’s a wonderful kids’ movie. I enjoyed it when I watched it as an 11-year-old. But therein lies the problem. In the Academy’s eyes, “animation” equals “for kids.”
See anonymous 2015 Academy Voter #5’s comment:
“I only watch the ones that my kid wants to see, so I didn’t see [The] Boxtrolls … The biggest snub for me was Chris Miller and Phil Lord not getting in for [The] Lego [Movie] . When a movie is that successful and culturally hits all the right chords and does that kind of box-office — for that movie not to be in over these two obscure freakin’ Chinese fuckin’ things that nobody ever freakin’ saw? That is my biggest bitch.”
Also look to Voter #7, who put it more succinctly:
“Frankly, I didn’t see any of them.”
So, some Academy members don’t even watch every animated nomination. Some just don’t believe that foreign animations are worth seeing. This kind of attitude is why movies like A Silent Voice get snubbed, and movies like The Boss Baby are praised. This is troubling, not just because of the blatant racism, but also because The Oscars are supposed to be an authority on the best films of any given year. How can viewers put any stock in this institution when it blatantly ignores works of art that undeniably merit discourse?
There is hope, though. 2024 saw Flow, an independent Latvian film, win Best Animated Feature. It even beat out titans like Pixar and Dreamworks on the way to its award. This is a step in the right direction. Maybe one day, the Academy will wake up and give animation the respect it deserves — before another Boss Baby sneaks its way in.
Nikhila Shanker | Visuals Editor
Fine Words and Buttered Parsnips
Goldilocks had it good: an oatmeal deep-dive
Luxe Palmer Copy Editor
Welcome to Fine Words and Buttered Parsnips, a column of meandering culinary sensibilities, investigating the world of food and fare from a plethora of perspectives.
My “oats + porridges” Pinterest board currently houses 255 pins — to say that I’m obsessed would be an understatement. I have been breakfasting with Coach’s SteelCut Oats since I was old enough to eat solids. I know my passion for porridge is not widely shared; this is because you have not had correct oatmeal.
The type of oat used is the most crucial decision in the oatmaking process:
Groats: Oats’ original form, kernel, shell, and all. They take longer to break down and have a much hardier chew.
Old-Fashioned Rolled: Groats are steamed, then rolled into flat flakes. They can either result in stereotypical mush or a pleasantly soft, but still wellstructured oat.
Steel-cut: Groats are cut with a steel blade into thin strips, retaining their grist and providing a nuttier bite.
Scottish: Groats are milled into a finer grain. To cook true Scottish porridge, you must stir the oats clockwise with a spurtle, a wooden dowel that somehow imparts the wisdom of ancient Hebridean Scots to your oats.
Quick Oats: Groats are sliced and rolled into the smallest granules, allowing them to cook the fastest, into either a bowl of soft, creamy, comforting porridge or pasty gruel. Typically, recipes use water, milk, or both. All-milk gives you luxuriously creamy oats. Allwater highlights their texture and nuttiness. Use coffee or tea to instantly add flavour and combine your breakfast and caffeine in one handy bowl. Depending on your oats, a 2-3:1 ratio of liquid to oats is advised. If you like soupier oatmeal, add more liquid. If you prefer your oats toothier, use less.
Oats are best cooked low and slow on the stove: bring liquid to a boil, add oats, reduce to a simmer, and cook for 4-6 minutes, stirring occasionally. If you’re in a dash, add oats and liquid to a LARGE bowl;
Being Red River M é tis
Understanding my Indigeneity
microwave for 30-60-second increments, stirring in between, until desired texture is reached. Note: oats absorb liquid as they cool; stop just before desired viscosity. Extra time? Toast your oats on a dry skillet for about five minutes, until golden and aromatic. Zero time? Make overnight oats: add equal parts oats and liquid, plus flavourings, to a jar; refrigerate overnight. Not a fan of traditional oatmeal texture? Try blending overnight oats into a batter-like consistency, or blend the raw ingredients and bake. (You can also bake oatmeal without blending.)
For classic sweet oatmeal, think cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, ginger, cardamom, cocoa, matcha, citrus zest, pumpkin purée, or vanilla/ almond/coconut extract. Try a haldi doodh-inspired blend of turmeric, ginger, cardamom, and cinnamon. Add grated apple for a call-back to Quaker’s Apple Cinnamon oats. Adorn your oats with dates, olive oil, and flaky salt for a sophisticated bowl.
If sweet isn’t your style, try savoury: garam masala, curry, cumin, chiles, miso, tomatoes, pesto, eggs, nutritional yeast, soy/hot sauce, avocado, mushrooms, chives, or spinach. Add dashi and radishes for a Japanese-style bowl.
Whatever profile you choose, ALWAYS ADD SALT. Salt awakens oats’ nutty complexity, elevating them from simple grain to heavenly gold.
To up your protein, stir a raw egg in your oats right after taking them off the stove. The residual heat cooks the egg into a cake-batter-esque custard. You can also add yogurt, cottage cheese, or hemp hearts.
If I’ve tempted you down the rabbit hole of oatmeal, you may experiment with different porridge grains (buckwheat, quinoa, barley) and methods (Crock Pot, steamed, fermented). The inevitable next step in the evolution of my porridge mania is growing my own oats.
River Eyamie Culture Contributor
Idid not grow up knowing I was Red River Métis. Some would immediately question my Indigeneity solely based on that fact. However, not understanding your heritage is a common story within my community and a story that is coloured by insidious erasure. Reclaiming Red River Métis identity is not only a moving experience, but also an incredibly important one. It’s important to defy what colonizers intended and reclaim what my ancestors had to hide, or else face residential schools or other consequences.
The Red River Métis people are a community with historic ties to the Red River settlement. We are a people with unique language, art, hunting practices and a distinct culture. At the genesis of the Red River Métis people, European settler men came to what would one day become Canada and intermarried with the First Nations women there. These voyageur men had come to the land in search of beaver pelts for the ever-growing fur trade throughout the 17th century. They had children and formed a community with their combined cultures, these children becoming the first generation of the Red River Métis. The fur trade was an important part for the growth of our Nation for the coming centuries. In the 19th century, battles where the Métis flag was first flown appear in the historic records, like in the Bataille de la Grenouillère. In 1870, Louis Riel had established the first provisional government and brought Manitoba into the constitution of Canada, under the promise of a land allotment to future generations of Métis. Soon after, Canada placed a bounty on Louis Riel for his resistance against colonization and ultimately hung him for treason. The land promise was never fulfilled and Louis Riel was wrongly convicted, which explains Canada’s current attempts at reconciliation with the Red River Métis.
The genesis of the Red River Métis has led to a common misconception: that we are simply a combination of white and First Nations blood, when in fact being Métis has nothing to do with blood quantum. That is to say, citizenship in our Nation is not about how much First Nations genes one inherited. It is about what came after those first children, the community that emerged. Essentially, it is based on who your ancestors were and if your family was a part of the distinct Red River Métis culture.
Our floral beadwork, the Michif language, the buffalo hunt. Our
fiddle songs and Red River Jig. These are just a few distinct aspects of the Red River Métis Nation that make us who we are. Our floral beadwork uses techniques from our First Nations mothers and takes inspiration from the flowers in the plains. Our language, Michif, which is a unique combination of French and Plains Cree. The buffalo hunt is no longer widely practiced, but historically, the Red River Métis were skilled hunters and followed strict rules of the hunt. Beyond that, our shared values are what makes the uniqueness of our people obvious. Our generous spirit and tendency to help anyone in need, that I have felt many times in my community. Our sense of humour, our love of the outdoors, the warmness I feel from my people is what makes us who we are.
Our community has no blood percentage. It’s for this very reason that during the peak of residential schools, the Métis were sometimes, but not always, white-passing enough to claim their heritage as French-Canadian rather than Indigenous. This was a popular and necessary method of survival at the time that has yet to be undone. It had a generational impact which had led many Red River Métis people today to not really understand what it means to be Métis. Many Métis think their Indigeneity is not valid enough to be “really” Indigenous. However, the most powerful form of reconciliation those individuals can do is to reclaim their Indigeneity, despite attempts of colonization and erasure. That is what my mother and I have done. My great-grandmother used to insist to my mother that she was French-Canadian, and the topic of Indigeneity was only spoken of in hushed tones. The idea of my mother being Métis was taboo to say the least. We realised much later that it was very likely that my greatgrandmother spoke Michif but was forced to forget the language and her culture to protect our family from
residential schools and judgement. The reason she so vehemently denied Indigeneity was out of fear it could hurt her family, a fear that was passed on to her from her family, who faced harassment during the reign of terror against the Métis. So, my mother grew up with the notion that she may be Red River Métis, but didn’t understand what it meant, and therefore raised me the same. It was not until my mother and I became involved with the community again that we started to truly understand and reclaim our Indigeneity. Since then, I have been eternally grateful for every moment I’ve been able to spend with my community.
Every interaction I have with another Red River Métis person solidifies my identity and understanding of my community. It is in no way just a fact about myself — it is an explanation of all my life thus far. It’s much more than realising there is different blood in my family tree than I once thought. Understanding one’s Indigeneity is like looking at an assortment of puzzle pieces that don’t quite fit your whole life, and when you finally collect all the pieces, it clicks. Suddenly, instead of a unique collection of family quirks, traditions, and norms, you’re looking at a Red River Métis family. You realize that the people closest to you in your life are also Métis and you’ve been a part of the community this whole time — you just never truly understood it. That is why reclaiming my Red River Métis heritage is so important. It’s important to do right by my family who had to hide. It’s important to understand myself and the people close to me. It’s important because I love being Red River Métis. Despite what colonizers have tried to enforce for centuries, I will not be quiet about it.
Nikhila Shanker | Visuals Editor
Keeping Up With My Delusions
Reflections on my decade-long parasocial relationship with the Kardashians
The first time I encountered the Kardashians, I was 10 years old, on a family vacation in El Salvador. A giant billboard caught my eye — Kim Kardashian’s face, larger than life, with bold text underneath: “ Kim Kardashian se divorcia después de 72 días” (“Kim Kardashian divorced after 72 days”). At the time, I had no idea who she was, but the image stuck with me.
A few months later, back home, I was flipping through channels — just an innocent middle schooler looking to fry my brain — when I landed on the E! Network. There she was again: the woman from the billboard, this time with two women, who I quickly deciphered as her sisters, all yelling at each other. I was instantly mesmerized.
Ten years later, I found myself emotionally invested in people who had no idea I existed.
Like most decade-long relationships, my relationship with the Kardashians has evolved. As a child, I secretly binged the show whenever my parents weren’t home, fully aware that my fascination would be met with disapproval. Even then, I understood that the Kardashians were controversial; I knew they were not the kind of public figures my parents would like me to engage with. Furthermore, I knew that watching reality TV was societally looked down upon. I was aware that
engaging in such a low-brow activity would be met with disappointment. But that only made them more intriguing.
Aside from certain fashion choices, I wasn’t watching Keeping Up with the Kardashians for inspiration: I was watching for the drama, the absurdity, the largerthan-life spectacle of it all. Over time, my relationship with them shifted from guilty pleasure to slight obsession, from mindless entertainment to critical analysis. Eventually, I found myself caring less than I ever had before. Before I got to that point, however, I went through every stage of the parasocial rollercoaster.
A parasocial interaction refers to how audiences engage and form connections with celebrities, often perceiving this one-sided relationship as mutual. These interactions are illusionary; media audiences may feel they are building a real connection with personas — such as talk show hosts, celebrities, fictional characters, and social media influencers — while, in reality, the celebrity remains completely unaware of their existence. In a sense, the Kardashians became this “friend” I followed for years.
The parasocial dynamic allows audiences to project their own narratives onto celebrities, shaping their perceptions based on personal beliefs, values, and cultural context.
For some, the Kardashians represent a refreshing take on the “American Dream”:
a matriarchal, multiracial, “modern” family that has achieved remarkable success. For others, they symbolize late-capitalist greed, influencer shallowness, and cultural appropriation. To me, they became a lens through which I analyzed feminism, capitalism, and even race. Undeniably, they became part of my cultural narrative.
At age ten, the Kardashian world was a lot simpler; their lives appeared to be a fantasy of wealth, fame and drama. But as I got older, I began to realize that beneath the glamour and perfectly curated drama, there was a darker undercurrent to their story. In retrospect, the early seasons weren’t all lavish vacations and lighthearted sister fights. Beneath the designer handbags and catchphrases were some surprisingly dark storylines. There was the leaked sex tape that started it all. Kourtney’s struggles with an eating disorder. Her unexpected pregnancy. Khloe’s DUI. An extortion attempt that led to FBI involvement — an incident immortalized in the now-iconic meme of Kris Jenner solemnly declaring, “This is a case for the FBI.” Not to mention Scott Disick’s spiralling substance abuse. And that’s just off the top of my head. The thing is, I was invested. In the early stages of our parasocial bond, I felt myself rooting for them.
As I transitioned into my brooding teenage years, “keeping up” with the Kardashians became more
socially acceptable. Kim and Kanye’s relationship catapulted the family into a new era of stardom, and suddenly, I wasn’t the only one watching. No longer hiding from them, my parents — though disapproving — would occasionally tune in, and for the first time, I had friends my age who also kept up. Kylie Jenner, just a few years older than me, became an undeniable aesthetic influence on my generation. By 2015, her enhanced lips became a spectacle, fueling media buzz and public curiosity. That year, an episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians aired in which she finally admitted to getting lip fillers, confirming long-standing speculation. Before this revelation, she had insisted that her plumper lips were simply the result of overlining with lip liner. This only intensified public fascination, sparking the “Kylie Jenner Lip Challenge,” a viral trend where people suctioned their lips into small glasses to create temporary swelling (despite no evidence that Jenner herself had ever used this method). I remember walking into class and seeing girls with bruised lips, victims of the infamous challenge. It seemed like everywhere I looked, I could see Kylie’s influence: Snapchat filters that mimicked her appearance, blue hair becoming the “look of the moment,” and a collective obsession with overlining your lips. Even beyond Kylie, the family’s overall impact became undeniable. They were no
longer just reflecting trends in fashion, wellness, and plastic surgery — they were creating them. With the rise of influencer culture and the shifting dynamics of social media in the early-to-mid 2010s, there was now more than one way to keep up with the Kardashians. The show was no longer the only access point. Fans could now watch the drama unfold in real time through Twitter feuds and Instagram stories before waiting for the show’s polished recap. This shift meant that fans were no longer passive viewers but active participants in the Kardashian narrative. The boundaries between celebrity and audience blurred as social media fostered a sense of direct access, making interactions feel personal, even when they weren’t. At one point, there were Karjenner apps, one for each sister. Their constant stream of content gave my friends and me plenty to talk about. It was the perfect gossip ecosystem: juicy, dramatic, and — the best part of a parasocial relationship — no one was actually getting hurt.
Kardashian-isms infiltrated our vocabulary, “bible,” “iconic,” and “tragic” seamlessly becoming part of my lexicon. Their business ventures, scandals, and feuds somehow felt relevant to my actual life. Who remembers their boutique, Dash? Kim’s coffee table book of selfies, Selfish ? The Life of Pablo era? Kimoji?
As I got older, the Kardashians stopped being just entertainment. I was analyzing them like they were a thesis topic. Superficial, seemingly talentless, and famous simply for being famous, they somehow remained oddly relatable. Their sibling feuds, messy divorces, and pregnancies played out before us in vivid detail, blurring the line between spectacle and authenticity. What was real and what was performance? I was never quite sure. They were no longer just celebrities; they had become a cultural phenomenon.
In an era where everyday life is staged for public consumption, this hypervisible family reflects the world we inhabit. They move between reality and curation, between experience and image — holding up a mirror to how we, too, exist in both digital and physical realms.
As their fame and wealth grew, so did the exaggeration of their image: gaudier aesthetics, hyper-curated personas, increasingly contrived plotlines. The Kardashians
Erandy Rogel Commentary Contributor
Meredith Cloutier | Visuals Contributor
COMMENTARY
I once kept up with were gone, replaced by caricatures of their former selves. To some extent, I justified my continued obsession as critical engagement. I told myself I was watching Keeping Up to keep up with the discourse, not just for entertainment. At least, that’s what I liked to believe. However, as time passed, it became harder to maintain the konnection I once felt with the Kardashians. I mean, what do I have in common with billionaires? At first, I tried to bridge that gap by intellectualizing them — if I couldn’t relate to them, I could at least analyze them. But over time, that excuse started to crumble. Analyzing the Kardashians stopped being fun. As I began to grow up, so did the stakes. What was once a harmless spectacle — frivolous drama, over-the-top antics, and family feuds played
out for entertainment — was now something more insidious. Their controversies were no longer just tabloid fodder; they had real-world implications. Whether it was their role in perpetuating unattainable beauty standards or their casual appropriation of Black culture, it became harder to laugh it off. And yet, the faker they became — the more hypercurated, Face-Tuned, and selfaware — the harder they were to ignore. It was no longer about keeping up with the Kardashians, but keeping up with the consequences of their influence. The line between entertainment and influence had blurred, their impact feeling impossible to dismiss. Inevitably, I burnt out. The Kardashians don’t know I exist and they never will. The spectacle began to fade. They transitioned from captivating figures to purveyors of a
toxic, hyper-commercialized lifestyle, one I no longer found relatable or intriguing. What once was intellectually stimulating and fun now had depressive undertones. Beauty standards, appropriation, and the commodification of culture became central to their narrative, revealing the harmful, manipulative side of their empire. I once enjoyed dissecting their every business move. I used the incessant media surrounding the family to draw conclusions about society, the entertainment industry, and the cult of celebrity. I could write think pieces about their effect on the media landscape. Now? I can’t even keep track. (Kylie has a vodka brand now?)
This realization hit me recently when my friend and I tuned in to the Season Six premiere of The Kardashians, the Hulu redux of their
flagship reality show, backed by a reported nine-figure deal. At this point, I had not kept up with the show for a year. In the episode, we watched Khloé reunite with her ex-husband, Lamar Odom. A few years ago, I would have been emotionally invested, hanging onto every awkward interaction. This time, I felt nothing but mild indifference. What was once a fizzy, fun, and occasionally sombering glimpse inside the lives of America’s most notable socialites has become a glossy, heavily curated ad reel overflowing with product placement, calculated brand promotions, and strategic stinginess about what’s actually revealed to the public. Any real drama feels like an afterthought, carefully repackaged and monetized for maximum engagement. The Kardashian phenomenon was
once a mirror of my adolescent fascination with fame and celebrity, but now, I see them as an exaggerated reflection of a world I no longer wish to participate in.
Ten years later, the memory of that Kim Kardashian billboard still lingers, but the billboard itself is long gone, faded, replaced, or simply forgotten like so many headlines that came after it. And as I sat there watching the new season, only half-paying attention, it hit me: my life has changed more than theirs ever will. They will always be rich, famous, and problematic. The only difference now is that I finally don’t care.
Tinder’s Filters Don’t Work for Queer Women
We’re tired of settling for an app that doesn’t protect us
Sophia
Di Genova Commentary Contributor
Afew weeks ago, I was sitting next to my friend as she swiped through Tinder. Her settings were clear: she’s a woman looking for other women. Yet, as she swiped, an endless parade of straight, fish-holding men appeared on her screen — men she explicitly set that she didn’t want to see.
As a queer woman, I’ve heard this complaint too many times from my lesbian friends: straight men manipulating their Tinder identity settings to show up on queer women’s feeds. What’s worse is that this isn’t just about annoyance, it’s about safety. Lesbians already deal with the sexualization and fetishization of their identities in everyday life. Dating apps, which should serve as safe spaces to find connection, are now extending that experience into the digital world.
Tinder, as the largest and most widely used dating app among queer women in Canada, should know better. But here we are.
Although I’ve never used
dating apps myself — I’ve been with my girlfriend for nearly five years — I decided to test this problem firsthand. With a friend’s permission, I created a fake profile using her photos and changed all identifying information. I set my gender as “woman,” sexual orientation as “lesbian,” and selected “women only” for partner preferences. Within my first five swipes, two were straight men.
As I kept swiping, it became clear how these men were bypassing Tinder’s filters: they were setting their gender to “woman” while keeping their orientation as “straight.” So much for matching “based on gender and orientation.” Tinder, like most dating apps, is designed for engagement.
The more profiles you see, the more you swipe. The more you swipe, the more likely you are to pay for boosts, upgrades, and visibility. If Tinder strictly filtered profiles to show only what users asked for, people might see fewer matches, especially if they’re in smaller dating pools like queer women. Less matches means less time spent swiping. From a business standpoint, keeping options
“Building tools to make queer women feel safe isn’t just an extra feature, it’s the least that [Tinder] can do.”
wide — even if they’re wrong — keeps users hooked.
That said, this kind of speculation is only hypothetical. And I don’t think fixing this issue would shrink Tinder’s user base. In fact, it could do the opposite. If queer women actually felt safe and seen on Tinder, more would join — growing the dating pool for everyone and creating a more loyal, engaged user base. But to make this happen, Tinder would need to commit to a few simple, yet powerful changes.
First, match people based on both gender and sexual orientation — together. Right now, Tinder lets users select these categories, but they are clearly not being honoured. Adding a filter that allows LGBTQ+ users to screen for both criteria would go a long way toward preventing men pretending to be “straight women” from appearing in lesbian users’ feeds.
Second, make better use of the Explore page. For those
who don’t know, Tinder has a feature that lets users join groups based on dating goals, interests, and identities, including groups for LGBTQ+ folks. The only problem: these groups are buried and underused. A simple fix would be to prompt LGBTQ+ users to join relevant groups when they sign up — a pop-up that invites queer women to join the “Lesbian” group, for example. And finally, Tinder needs a way to report people who are gaming the system. When I tried to report the straight men showing up in my lesbian profile, the closest option was “fake profile, scammer, not one person.” There wasn’t even an “Other” box to explain what was going on. Adding a “misrepresentation” option would not only let users flag this problem, but also help Tinder identify patterns — and fix them.
The truth is, dating apps are a lifeline for many queer people. In a world that still makes it hard to find safe,
real-life connections, apps like Tinder have become one of the only ways to meet partners. So when queer women are left unprotected on the app that’s supposed to be for everyone, it’s not just a tech problem. It’s a community problem.
Tinder’s website is filled with language about inclusion, diversity, and safe spaces. But when straight men can flood lesbian feeds with no way to stop them, those promises ring hollow.
I’m not asking Tinder to do anything revolutionary. I’m asking them to do the bare minimum: protect the people who use their platform. If Tinder really wants to be inclusive, then building tools that make queer women feel safe isn’t just an extra feature, it’s the least they can do.
And if Tinder takes that step, I can guarantee that queer women will notice, and they’ll finally feel like this app is made for them too.
Nikhila Shanker | Visuals Editor
ST. PATTY’S HOROSCOPES
Aries (Mar 21Apr 19)
GOD HELP THE PERSON WHO DARES GET IN YOUR SPACE WHILE IN LINE FOR A PINT.
Taurus (Apr 20May 20)
YOU’RE THE SMARTEST OF US ALL, STAYING AT HOME WHEN IT’S MAYHEM OUT IS THE BEST BET.
Gemini (May 21Jun 20)
YOU BEST NOT BE CAUSING MORE CHAOS THAN IS NEEDED RIGHT NOW.
Cancer (Jun 21Jul 22)
YOUR NIGHT WILL EITHER END IN TEARS OR WITH SOMEONE GETTING PUNCHED IN THE FACE.
Leo (Jul 23Aug 22)
YOU’RE DEFINITELY *NOT* DANCING ON THE BAR, CHUGGING A GUINNESS IN RECORD TIME.
Virgo (Aug 23Sept 22)
YOUR CHAOTIC EVIL ENERGY SHINES THROUGH THIS TIME OF YEAR.
Libra (Sept 23Oct 22)
NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR A SELFIE ... BUT JUST TO BE SURE, YOUR GOOD SIDE IS THE LEFT ONE.
Scorpio (Oct 23Nov 21)
STAY SULKING IN THE CORNER WITH YOUR BEER, LEST YOU START TELLING YOUR EX HOW YOU *REALLY* FEEL.
Sagittarius (Nov 22Dec 21)
CHECK YOUR BANK ACCOUNT BEFORE MAKING ANY HASTY DECISIONS!
Capricorn (Dec 22Jan 19)
WHEN PICKING A HAIR DYE, KEEP IN MIND: GREEN IS NOT YOUR COLOUR. MAYBE TRY BLUE!
Aquarius (Jan 20Feb 18)
THE ONLY G YOU’RE SPLITTING IS GIN. A FRENCH 75, TO BE EXACT.
Pisces (Feb 19Mar 20)
I HOPE YOUR BEER IS LUKEWARM. BUT KEEP A LOOKOUT FOR A FOUR-LEAF CLOVER.
