For six months in 1967, Canada stood at the centre of the world. Expo 67 was more than a world's fair—it was a statement of intent, a meticulously crafted vision of what Canada wanted to be: modern, confident, cosmopolitan, and forward-thinking. It was a break from the old colonial narratives, a declaration that Canada was no longer just a northern extension of Britain or an indistinct cousin of the United States, but a nation in its own right—dynamic, diverse, and eager to shape the future.

The Expo’s theme, “Man and His World”, spoke to a country embracing innovation and globalism. The architecture was audacious: Habitat 67, Moshe Safdie’s radical rethink of urban housing, signaled a Canada that was ready to experiment with new ideas. The Canadian Pavilion, a towering inverted pyramid, presented a country that was not merely surviving but thriving, embracing progress rather than resisting it. The Expo projected a Canada that was technologically advanced, culturally rich, and—perhaps most importantly—no longer provincial.

It was also a diplomatic balancing act. The U.S. Pavilion, with Buckminster Fuller’s geodesic dome, loomed large, but Canada positioned itself as a distinct voice in global affairs—welcoming both the Soviet Union and Cuba at a time when Cold War tensions ran high. At home, though, the fractures were already forming. Quebec nationalism was gaining momentum, Indigenous perspectives were absent, and the postwar economic boom was nearing its limits.

Yet for that brief moment, Expo 67 let Canada believe in itself. It was a vision of a country that could be big, bold, and innovative. Even if reality never fully lived up to the dream, it was the moment Canada dared to imagine itself as something more.