Cannexus, the Capital, and the Divide We Can’t Ignore

“The poor are not poor because they are lazy, but because they are powerless.”— Martin Luther King Jr.

Around this time each year, North America’s industry leaders ascend on the nation’s capital for the annual Cannexus Conference. It is a gathering of some of the sharpest minds in career practice, workforce development, innovation, and policy. Industry leaders, thinkers, builders, problem-solvers, and innovators come together to focus on what is often framed as society’s most powerful lever of success: employment.

The conference unfolds in the heart of downtown Ottawa, centered around CF Rideau, a stone's throw from Parliament Hill. It is difficult to imagine a more symbolic location. This is the epicenter of government, policy, and national decision-making. The elite of the elite convene here, immersed in conversations about labour markets, skills gaps, economic mobility, and the future of work.

And yet, just outside those conference rooms, and sometimes within the same building, another reality is impossible to ignore.

A walk through the Rideau Centre reveals a stark contrast. Luxury storefronts and conference badges coexist alongside visible poverty, addiction, and people in deep distress. At times, there is a visible police presence managing situations as they arise. The food court has an unmistakable tension. The washrooms tell their own stories. The divide is not theoretical. It is physical, immediate, and unavoidable.

The irony is hard to escape.

On one side, the greatest minds in workforce development collaborate on solutions, frameworks, and strategies. On the other, the lived reality of people who have fallen far outside the systems those solutions are meant to serve.

We often speak of employment as society’s great equalizer. Better than schooling alone. More sustainable than government assistance. A job is supposed to bring dignity, purpose, stability, and belonging.

But the uncomfortable truth is this: the real ultimate indicator of employment success is privilege.

It has far less to do with the practice of career development than we often like to admit. Privilege provides the head start. It cushions the fall. It offers networks, financial security, stable housing, and access to education long before a résumé is ever written. Privilege gives people the jump on poverty.

Yes, there are stories of individuals who have built themselves up from poverty into stable, well-paying careers. Those stories matter, and they deserve respect. But they are becoming harder to replicate. University and post-secondary education are increasingly out of reach for many Canadians, and for marginalized youth they are often nearly impossible. Rising costs, unstable housing, food insecurity, and systemic barriers make “pathways to employment” feel more like obstacles than opportunities.

Privilege is the litmus test.

As the greatest minds converge year after year to discuss employment as the ultimate solution, the numbers outside the conference rooms continue to grow. More people left behind. More visible desperation. More distance between those who have access and those who do not, all within the same downtown space.

Perhaps the real challenge is not designing better programs or more polished frameworks. Perhaps it is confronting the role privilege plays in who gets to participate in the labour market at all.

If employment is truly the answer, then we must be willing to ask harder questions. Not just about skills and motivation, but about access, affordability, and structural advantage. Because proximity to opportunity does not equal access to it.

Cannexus does not just take place near the center of government. It takes place at the center of a contradiction we can no longer afford to ignore.

-Barry Smith