Reflections from CANSEC 2025: Trust, Outreach, and the Desire to Do Better

One of the biggest benefits of this past week has been the chance to really connect with people. I was fortunate enough to meet many friends—both in the CAF, DND, and across industry—at CANSEC, and I had the privilege of some truly meaningful conversations.

One of my goals for this trip was to talk to people ahead of the NATO Summit and the upcoming force structure and organizational changes expected in September. I wanted to get a sense of how people were feeling, and what their expectations really were.

This trip was incredibly educational in that regard—but it also gave me a new perspective on just how disconnected we all are sometimes. I’m an outsider. Many have told me that’s one of my strengths, and they did again this week.

I’m not an academic. I’m not in CAF. I’m not even in the defence industry. To many, I barely qualify as media. For all intents and purposes, I shouldn’t be here. And yet—for many—that’s exactly why I should be here. I have no ties, no allegiances, and no agenda. I’m a neutral observer. Someone who can move between groups without bias or expectations.

At least, that’s what I’ve been told. It’s humbling, to say the least. And I’m grateful it helps people feel comfortable enough to speak openly with me. It gave me a clearer view of just how differently people see things—and how often everyone seems to be operating on different wavelengths.

That might sound vague, so let me explain. One of the biggest takeaways from CANSEC was this: everyone wants to do better—but very few know what “better” looks like in the eyes of others. Industry doesn’t know what CAF truly wants. CAF isn’t sure how to bring industry together or ensure everyone has a proper seat at the table.

The system is complex. We all know that. Everyone agrees money and change are coming—but few know what to expect or what role they’re meant to play. Add to that a real disconnect in communication, and you get a recipe for widespread frustration.

That disconnection was noticeable. Many didn’t feel comfortable raising concerns or didn’t feel it would matter if they did. So let me be the person who, at the very least, shares what I heard at CANSEC—starting with the three major themes that stood out in almost every conversation I had.

As always, this isn’t a ranking. These are simply the biggest issues I heard raised, and I hope they resonate with those in senior leadership and industry. I’m not here to tell anyone what’s right or wrong—that’s not my place.

But I can be a messenger, and try to raise these points while I still have the platform to do so. Because we are heading into a new and potentially chaotic environment. Change is coming. Funding is coming. And it’s only together that we’ll make the most of it.

1. There Needs to Be Work on Trust

Of all the recurring issues I heard, almost all boiled down to a lack of trust—in people, institutions, and promises. It’s created a growing divide that’s actively hampering our ability to present a comprehensive strategy or united front.

Industry doesn’t trust DND’s plans. They don’t believe the promises of reform. They’ve been burned before and don’t see this wave of change as any different. They see a CAF that’s unsure of what it wants and seemingly unaware of the threats it’s facing.

This came up a lot with specific projects, like GBAD. A common theme was the belief that CAF doesn’t know what it wants—and that even if it does, the requirements will change again anyway. I heard at least two separate rants about how confusing the requirements were and how people just assumed it would all shift again as soon as contracts were awarded. The lack of stability erodes trust.

On the other side, there’s a very real skepticism towards industry. And that isn’t entirely unjustified. The defence sector is known for bad actors, inflated promises, and questionable transparency. Timelines slip. Capabilities fall short. People notice.

Several folks I spoke to at CANSEC were quick to dismiss industry claims or to assume the worst—often labeling claims as lies or exaggeration. The dynamic was friendly at times, but often only on the surface. Beneath it, mistrust lingered.

Many primes still seem to think they can get away with old habits because they’ve enjoyed an unchallenged status for so long. When you believe you can skirt around transparency simply because you’re an established prime, you’re fueling that distrust. How can you rebuild industrial capacity if potential partners can’t trust you to deliver honest information?

These aren’t unfounded concerns. They come from real history, hard experiences, and a long record of issues. But if we want to move forward, this dynamic has to shift.

CAF and DND need to be more open—not just about what they want now, but what they expect in the future. There need to be concrete plans and a genuine willingness to work with industry, not just through them. Even acknowledging political constraints would be a start—something like: “We know we’ll be subject to shifting budgets, but here’s our best projection for the next five years.” Industry can plan around that, even knowing it might not be perfect.

Industry, for its part, must be realistic about what it can offer. You’re not just selling a product—you’re building a relationship. The short-term, transactional mindset is a major part of why trust has eroded.

You may not have created these problems, but you’re part of the system now—and rebuilding trust starts with each of you. Own your weaknesses. Set clear expectations. Back up your claims. People can tell when you’re embellishing. If I can tell, believe me—so can senior leaders.

Take Hanwha, for example. One reason they’re respected across CAF is because they don’t try to BS people. They acknowledge limitations. They lay out detailed plans. They back up their claims with evidence. That shouldn’t be exceptional—but it is.

Leadership in DND, you’re not immune here either. That smugness? That defensiveness? People see it. They feel dismissed. If you want real reform, if you want long-term progress, you need to give industry something to believe in. You need to build stability—and you need to listen.

GBAD was brought up multiple times as an example of confusing requirements and endless churn. If that’s the precedent, it’s no wonder people hesitate to engage fully.

We need consistency. We need transparency. We need trust on both sides.

2. Industry Sucks at Outreach—and Most of You Are to Blame

Yes, I said it. Many of you are complacent and too passive for anyone to care about you. Several of you couldn’t answer basic questions about your own products. At CANSEC. The biggest show of the year.

Some of you had representatives who didn’t even know the brochure they were handing out. I remember standing at the Vard booth holding the Vigilance 100 ad in my hands, and the rep I asked couldn’t tell me what it was—just pointed me to a screen. That’s not a strong showing of a new system.

The defence community in Canada is tight-knit. Word travels. People talk. If you don’t show up, if you don’t engage, people notice.

Here’s the thing: you shouldn’t need me to be your press team. I’ve had companies come to me and ask to promote their products because they didn’t see the point of doing it themselves. If you can’t market yourself, why should anyone take you seriously?

QR codes slapped onto brochures without any real context? That’s a good example of half-baked “marketing.” If I have to scan a code to get basic specs—because there’s nothing in the material itself—I’m not impressed. It feels like you’re outsourcing the most important part of your story to someone else’s phone screen rather than telling it yourself.

I shouldn’t be the one people come to for info on your systems. I’m not a catalogue. But because you don’t bother with outreach, people do come to me. And that shouldn’t be the case.

Most of you do almost no marketing, almost no outreach. I went as far as to offer interviews or press releases to smaller Canadian firms—and a surprising number declined, as if they thought they already had all the “right” connections. Meanwhile, I’m hearing those with authority ask me, “What happened to that XYZ platform?”—and I’m like, “I have no idea, because no one ever told me!”

If you want to be involved, you have to start acting like you care. People notice when you’re visible; they notice when you give off the sense that you don’t care. Many of you act like just another vendor, one of many. And yes, this applies even to the big names.

Do you know why Hanwha will likely win CPSP? It isn’t just because of what they offer—it's because if you’re TKMS, you did almost nothing. Hanwha has been in Ottawa for years: interviews, lobbying events, clear public positions. TKMS barely started meaningful lobbying until after the RFI closed. They still haven’t given a public timeline. You might think “who cares about the public,” but make no mistake: it matters.

We all talk. We all discuss. If a company assumes it already has a contract “in the bag” and then fumbles it because it never bothered to show up until the last minute, word gets around fast.

Some of you have even asked me to promote your stuff. Look, I will happily highlight good products—especially for those who will sit and talk to me about them. But I am not free advertisement. You need to put in your effort. You need to develop a proper strategy: know what you want to promote, why it matters, and how to say it. And then get out there.

If you rely on glossies and QR codes, you’re doing yourself a disservice. Complacency is a killer. Lack of innovation—both in product and in messaging—will be your downfall.

3. Everyone Wants to Do Better

I want to end this on a positive note.

For all the frustration and disconnect, one thing was overwhelmingly clear at CANSEC: people want to do better.

Almost everyone I spoke with—CAF, DND, industry—acknowledged the challenges we face. They know things are changing and that they need to change with it. They’re tired of the old ways. They want a reset. They’re willing to adapt. They’re ready for long-term solutions, even if those solutions take time and sacrifice.

It was incredibly reassuring to see conversations end on a hopeful note rather than a complaint. People know sacrifices will be required. They know results won’t be instant—but they’re prepared to work toward tangible progress.

That kind of attitude is rare—but it’s exactly what we need. Change isn’t static, nor is it fully controllable. You can influence it, but you can’t predetermine every outcome. Yet the fact that so many people are willing to try—that they believe in building an industry, not just chasing contracts—that gives me hope.

My overall experience with people was positive. It was wonderful to listen to them discuss frustrations and aspirations. As someone who writes about this regularly but has yet to be in the thick of it, this week was eye-opening. I got a real sense of how reshaping conversations might turn into reshaping budgets, capabilities, and policies.

The Liberal government has promised to rebuild both CAF and our industrial capabilities. Those two goals are inherently linked. One cannot advance without the other. That means fostering an environment of genuine trust and cooperation—and showing industry that we’re serious.

The fall budget will follow shortly after we see restructuring plans. There’s no better time to put ourselves forward—not just by committing funding, but by committing to a reformed procurement system. Start now. Set clear, time-bound outcomes that industry can see and plan for.

We won’t get to where we need to be with the old system. I doubt anyone would argue otherwise. But it will require everyone—CAF, DND, industry, leadership—to give something. Some elements might have to be left behind. It might be painful. It might require sacrifice. But building a healthy defence industry means cutting away waste, outdated processes, and toxic mindsets that have lingered far too long.

Again, I’m just a messenger—an outsider observing everything. I know how difficult these things can be, and I won’t preach a single “solution.” I don’t have one.

But if even I can see that things need to change, imagine what that means for all of you who actually live and breathe these issues every day.

Let’s not let this moment slip away.