
I am the daughter of two immigrants from Iran. I am an immigrant myself—what you might call generation 1.5 —having moved to Canada in early adolescence. I witnessed my parents struggle financially and professionally, while I navigated the social and cultural shocks of growing up between two worlds.
Through resilience, caution, and without the benefit of inherited privilege, my parents slowly ascended the social ladder and, over the years, built a stable, comfortable life. Their hard work eventually afforded me the opportunity to attend graduate school, hold fulfilling positions, and earn a worry-free lifestyle.
My experiences—both direct and vicarious—have convinced me that meritocracy (even a flawed one) is neither a hoax nor an affront. Yet today’s dominant narratives (see here, here, and here) may have you believe merit is a dirty word.
Let me be clear: significant inequality exists in Canada. Low-income and working-class individuals face reduced access to housing, healthcare, and higher education, along with worse health outcomes and academic performance. These barriers disproportionately affect women, Indigenous peoples, people with disabilities, and visible minorities—especially immigrants.
Indeed, immigrants from low socioeconomic backgrounds encounter both individual and systemic discrimination. Yet many still prevail. Despite disproportionately facing poverty and adversity, immigrants tend to show better physical and mental health outcomes—a phenomenon known as the immigrant health paradox. Research suggests that first- and second-generation immigrants demonstrate higher mental resilience and are less likely to externalize blame. These traits are not just valuable on a personal level – they are exactly the kind of qualities that help individuals succeed in a merit-based system. They should be celebrated and promoted.
Many newcomers choose Canada with an awareness of the challenges they will face, and the hope of overcoming them through hard work and merit-based success. We understand that Canadian meritocracy – like any human creation – isn’t perfect and that hard work doesn’t always mean a competitive advantage. But as far as fairness goes, merit-based advancement is the best model we’ve got. Consider the fact that many immigrants come from authoritarian and repressive societies entrenched with corruption and nepotism—places where effort alone will get one nowhere, and survival may be a daily battle. Canada’s imperfect meritocracy is a dream worth pursuing.
This isn’t a call to deny inequality or ignore systemic barriers. On the contrary, we must ensure opportunities are fair and accessible, as this benefits everyone (i.e., hiring the most qualified doctor in benefits all of her future patients, not just the doctor). But the only way to do this is to optimize meritocracy, not abandon it.
Meritocracy may not be perfect, but for many of us, it has been a pathway to possibility. To preserve that pathway—for immigrants and for all—we must protect it, improve it, and most importantly, keep telling the stories that demonstrate its importance to democracy. To preserve that pathway—for immigrants, for marginalized groups, for all—we must protect it, improve it, and most importantly, keep telling the stories that prove it still works.
