What do Marilyn Gladu, Matt Jeneroux, Lori Idlout, Michael Ma, and Chris d’Entremont have in common?
Depending on your political stripes, they are either opportunists undermining Canadian democracy or pragmatic actors doing what politics has always allowed. For the Liberals, they are a path to the majority government they have long sought. For critics, they are proof that something in the system is broken.
The reality is less dramatic. Beyond being elected officials, these MPs share little in common. They come from different parties, represent different regions, and reflect very different political traditions. What unites them now is that they sit in the same Liberal caucus, alongside colleagues who were elected under a different banner roughly a year ago.
Gladu’s decision, in particular, caught attention well beyond the Ottawa bubble. A former Conservative leadership hopeful, Freedom Convoy supporter, and social conservative, her move raised immediate questions. Was this a calculated play for influence and relevance? Or a genuine attempt to better represent her constituents within a governing party?
For d’Entremont, the answer appears more grounded. In a recent interview, he pointed to a direct conversation with Prime Minister Mark Carney about the needs of his riding, including support for the Acadian community and Nova Scotia more broadly. That conversation, facilitated by members of the Liberal Atlantic caucus, helped convince him that his priorities aligned more closely with the government.
These decisions are rarely simple. Research on party switching in Canada shows that moves like these are often shaped by a mix of political calculation, personal frustration, and negotiation behind the scenes. MPs may feel alienated within their own caucus or see greater opportunity to deliver for their constituents elsewhere. But the cost is real. MPs who cross the floor often lose long-standing relationships and face backlash at home, where voters may feel betrayed by a decision they did not make.
Importantly, these recent MPs are not walking into cabinet or positions of significant power. Their formal influence remains limited. They are backbenchers in a new caucus, expected to support the government’s agenda but largely excluded from the core decision-making table. The idea that floor-crossing is a guaranteed path to power does not hold up in practice.
Still, the political reaction has been telling. The NDP response to losing members has been measured, framing the decision as disappointing but ultimately personal. Conservatives, by contrast, have been far more aggressive, accusing former colleagues of betrayal and calling for mechanisms to force accountability, including mandatory by-elections.
At first glance, that solution has appeal. If an MP changes parties, should they not have to face voters again?
In practice, it is far less straightforward. A recent by-election held to secure a seat for the Conservative leader cost taxpayers $2.3 million and produced an entirely predictable result. Forcing by-elections every time an MP crosses the floor would be costly and would do little to change outcomes. More importantly, it risks strengthening party leaders at the expense of individual MPs. If leaving a caucus automatically triggers a political and financial gauntlet, MPs may be less willing to challenge leadership, even when it is warranted.
Recall legislation presents similar challenges. As seen in provinces like Alberta, recall processes can be cumbersome, politicized, and difficult to execute effectively at scale. Federally, implementing such a system would require significant legislative change, which is unlikely without sustained political pressure.
A more practical approach is procedural rather than punitive. One proposal gaining traction is to amend the Standing Orders of the House of Commons to introduce a mandatory cooling-off period. Under this model, MPs who leave their party would sit as independents for 30 days before joining another caucus. During that time, they would be expected to consult with constituents and operate outside strict party discipline.
This approach does not eliminate controversy, but it introduces a measure of accountability without distorting the system. It gives voters time to react, reduces the immediate political theatre, and reinforces the idea that MPs are representatives first and partisans second.
Because that is the core tension at play. Canada’s parliamentary system elects individuals, not parties, even if voters often behave as though the opposite is true. Floor-crossing exposes that contradiction in uncomfortable ways.
Democracy is not always neat. It is often messy, imperfect, and frustrating. Politics, like any workplace, involves ambition, personality, and strategic calculation. The difference is that the stakes are higher. These are the individuals entrusted to govern the country.
The question is not whether MPs should ever change parties. They can, and they will. The real question is whether our system can balance flexibility with accountability in a way that maintains public trust.
Right now, that balance is under strain. The answer is not to overcorrect with blunt tools like forced by-elections, but to refine the rules in a way that reflects how politics actually works.
Because in the end, this is not about one MP, one party, or even one government. It is about whether Canadians believe the system still works for them.
Daniel Perry is the Director of Federal Affairs at the Council of Canadian Innovators, leading national advocacy and engagement efforts. With experience in consulting and roles at the Senate of Canada, Queen’s Park, and the Canadian Criminal Justice Association, Daniel has helped political leaders and clients across various sectors achieve their public policy goals. A frequent media contributor and seasoned campaigner, Daniel holds a Master of Political Management from Carleton University.
