D'Oh Canada

When the Liberal Party of Canada changed the lyrics to O Canada to make them "gender-neutral" and "inclusive," I warned at the time that it wasn't a symbol of progress but a vapid, contrived, performative exercise in identity politics. It was an issue that should have been taken directly to the Canadian people through a referendum, given its importance. A national anthem reveals, among other things, the identity, traditions, lore, myths, aspirations, and values of a country. It's meant to bind a nation together.
It also opened the door to more cultural relativism. In this case, since the lyrics are no longer sacrosanct but a mere political tool, it leaves the door open for interpretation. O Canada can mean whatever you want it to mean.
"Like, that's your opinion, man."
—The Dude
If a song meant to unite a country can be reworded, reinterpreted, and refashioned in the image of the singer, then it's not an anthem but just an exercise in individual performance art.
During the World Series, Canadians witnessed it firsthand. JP Saxe and Rufus Wainwright dishonoured our country by (arrogantly) modifying something they had no right to modify. It's not theirs—or anyone else's, for that matter—to unilaterally decide what lyrics they want to sing. It's not a pop song. It's a national anthem. Millions of Canadians don't agree with identity politics, and weaponizing an anthem only invites more division and distrust.
In that contrived spectacle, it reveals itself as vacant, soulless art—less inspirational and more cynical.

It doesn't project a strong national identity. It projects a colonial mindset.
Canada has seen better days.

Here's how a national anthem should be performed: