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Madam Speaker, I rise today with deep honour and profound sadness to pay tribute to the life of our former colleague, Dr. Kirsty Duncan.
Kirsty should be remembered as a true polymath, a remarkable Canadian scientist, advocate and dedicated public servant whose career blended groundbreaking research, passionate advocacy and impactful political leadership. She was also an accomplished athlete, dancer and writer. Therefore, in remembering Kirsty, we must begin by paying tribute to her many personal and career accomplishments.
After she earned her Ph.D. from the University of Edinburgh, Kirsty built an international reputation for academic excellence through her pioneering work on environmental health and pandemics. In 1998, she famously led an expedition to Norway to investigate the 1918 Spanish flu virus, earning international acclaim as an expert in pandemic influenza and the effects of climate change on human health. Her book, “Hunting the 1918 Flu: One Scientist's Search for a Killer Virus”, chronicled this journey, while her earlier contributions to the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, the IPCC, which shared the 2007 Nobel Peace Prize, underscored her commitment to global environmental stewardship.
She authored many additional works, including “Environment and Health: Protecting our Common Future”, and later “The Exclusion Effect”, which addressed the barriers facing women and girls in STEM.
Kirsty entered politics in 2008 and was elected as the Liberal member for Etobicoke North, a riding she proudly represented through five consecutive terms until retiring in 2025.
She first served as the vice-chair of the Standing Committee on Environment and Sustainable Development. After 2015, Kirsty went on to become Canada's first minister of science, where she championed the integration of scientific evidence into decision-making. She later held the portfolio of minister of sport and persons with disabilities, where she advocated fiercely for safe sport, accessibility and inclusion. She then served as deputy leader of the government in the House of Commons.
Beyond cabinet roles, Kirsty was known for her consistent political advocacy for public health initiatives, cancer prevention, Alzheimer's strategies, sickle cell disease and expanding school food programs to support young people. She also worked tirelessly to advance women in STEM, drawing from her own experiences as a scientist turned politician. She championed a motion that resulted in the Standing Committee on Science and Technology, something that I know the member for , a fellow woman in STEM who went on to serve in politics, is also deeply grateful for.
Most importantly, throughout, Kirsty remained deeply connected to her constituents in Etobicoke North.
Kirsty Duncan's career legacy is one of intellectual courage, compassionate leadership and dedication to using knowledge for the public good. I have no doubt that her contributions will continue to inspire future generations of researchers, advocates and leaders. However, I also believe Kirsty's true legacy lies in how she lived her life, becoming known for so much more than her very impressive résumé.
I first met Kirsty shortly after my election in 2011. As a freshly minted MP and parliamentary secretary, I walked into my first meeting of the Standing Committee on Environment and Sustainable Development only to face two of the most formidable women in Parliament at the time: Megan Leslie and, of course, Kirsty Duncan.
To this day, I remember Kirsty effortlessly gliding into that room, tall, proud and carrying every ounce of the grace and purpose that belied her skill and lifelong passion for Scottish Highland dance. At that moment, I knew I was in trouble. Kirsty always meant business, and the fact that I was a political neophyte at the time did not change that fact one bit.
Back then, Kirsty was the only Liberal on the committee, but her personal tenaciousness made up for any diminishment in numbers that might have affected the advancement of her positions. I quickly learned that Kirsty's relentlessness was not a symptom of partisanship, but rather a pursuit of what she personally viewed to be justice and action for her community. For me, this meant Kirsty would aggressively oppose government positions when she felt it necessary, but she would remain open to or even propose policies that Megan and I put forward or could agree upon.
Wherever possible, Kirsty sought to build consensus without sacrificing her principles. Our working relationship was such that, even in a majority Parliament, we managed to produce a committee report that miraculously had no dissenting reports attached to it.
In other words, while I never saw Kirsty back down on tough issues, quite the opposite in fact, trust me, her overriding commitment was always to achieving results, and she would work collaboratively with anyone to make that happen. This included doing one of the hardest things any of us can do in this place, offering principled, public, constructive advice to our own team when it is needed. For example, in the wake of the Hockey Canada sexual assault scandal, I believe it was Kirsty's principled and public call to action, urging her own government to move faster in preventing harassment, abuse and discrimination against women in sport, that helped break the logjam that existed and began to drive meaningful change.
Kirsty really was a true champion for women. It has only been in recent years that I realized how fortunate I was during my early years in Parliament to serve on the environment committee alongside Kirsty. As a relatively young woman in politics at the time, I had the rare and invaluable experience of working respectfully across the aisle from two extraordinarily talented female lawmakers from different political parties. Kirsty did not merely advocate for greater equality of opportunity for women; she lived it by example every day.
After my party lost government in 2015, Kirsty never once lorded her new-found status over me. Instead, she reached out with her characteristic quiet kindness through texts, emails or simply stopping by to say hello. She was always checking in to ensure I was coping with the loss and transition to opposition in a healthy way. She even went as far as to share meaningful tips with me on how to be a more effective opposition member. When I asked why she was investing time in helping me learn the ropes of opposition, she answered without hesitation that our country is stronger when more women understand how to both govern and hold the government to account. In turn, she always paid heed whenever I felt the need to give her similar reflections from my time in cabinet. I have no doubt that she would rejoice in other women in this place sharing that type of experience.
These are but a few stories that illustrate some of the best parts of Kirsty's legacy, her profound courage, resolute determination and remarkable grace. There are literally thousands of similar stories that have poured out across the country that provide testimony to the same.
Perhaps the greatest testament to these qualities in Kirsty's legacy came in the final years of her life. Kirsty faced her profound medical challenges with the same unyielding determination that always defined her. She chose to live life fully, to keep driving change, to cherish her friends and family, and to embrace moments with the boundless joy and compassion that always were her hallmarks.
When Kirsty reached out to tell me that she had been diagnosed with cancer, she also made a point of saying that she would continue serving as a member of Parliament. I remember being quietly taken aback that she felt the need to emphasize that part to me. Of course she would stay on and finish her work; Kirsty was never one for quitting.
Kirsty also chose to share her cancer journey publicly, which was a gift to us. If one looks through her posts about it, one theme shines through consistently: Kirsty beaming with joy and gratitude for another day granted, another small victory won or another moment of love she shared with another person. For me, what is most difficult in grappling with the loss of Kirsty is that someone with her capacity for abundant love, gratitude and kindness has been taken from us far too soon.
Throughout my time in office, in spite being from a different political party, Kirsty was always among the first to reach out with genuine congratulations on my successes and quiet comfort during the difficult, lonely moments of personal political loss. She intimately understood that politics, as it is with life, comes with both highs and lows, and through her example, she helped me understand something profound: No matter which seat we hold in this place, our power comes not from the centre of our parties, but rather from our constituents, and it is up to each of us to wield it to its fullest on their behalf. Kirsty lived this principle with absolute abundance. All of us who serve in this place would be well served to honour her legacy by striving to do the same.
Kirsty loved so many people so fiercely, but her love for her husband Sven shone so brightly that it was the loudest type of quiet love I have ever seen. Looking back through the messages, the many messages she sent me over the years, I always found her sly, joyful references to him were the things that brought me the most delight.
Kirsty poured out love so generously to her family, her friends, her work and to her country. To see that love returned so steadfastly by Sven, through the isolation of political life and the trials of illness, stands as a profound example to us all. What truly matters is the love we give and receive: for one another, for our families and for the nation we serve. We are so grateful to Sven for loving Kirsty. He should know that we are here for him, both in his grief and in the remembrance of his beautiful, remarkable wife.
When I learned of Kirsty's passing, it hit me that amidst the rush of year-end business, I had let one of her last messages to me go unanswered: a beautiful, so characteristic of Kirsty, thoughtful holiday greeting. What I would not give to press “send” one more time to tell her how much her friendship meant to me.
This will have to do instead: “Kirsty, thank you for being our friend. Thank you for so passionately loving our country. Thank you for showing all of us that there is value, hope and dignity in the act of living, no matter the circumstance.
“May our conduct in this place honour you, and may the years that cancer robbed from you serve to remind us of the fact that while the days in this place are long, the years are very short.
“Kirsty, we are so grateful to you. Your country is so grateful to you. May your memory continue to be a blessing.”
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Mr. Speaker, I rise today to honour the memory of the Hon. Kirsty Duncan, a former colleague, a dear friend and one of the most genuinely inspirational people I have had the privilege to know.
Kirsty was, first and foremost, a scientist. A medical geographer of international renown, she devoted her intellect and her energy to understanding how environment, health and human lives are inseparably linked. She believed deeply that evidence matters, that truth matters and that public policy should be grounded in knowledge rather than convenience. Her environmentalism flowed naturally from that scientific mind: Once we truly understand the consequences of our actions on human health, indifference becomes impossible.
However, titles and achievements, impressive though they were, only tell part of the story. For those of us who worked alongside her, Kirsty was something rarer in public life. She was profoundly empathetic. She listened carefully. She spoke thoughtfully. She carried herself with kindness even in the parliamentary hurly-burly that so often rewards the opposite.
We were first elected together in 2008, with the hon. member for ; we are the last of the class of 2008. From those early days onward, I saw her navigate the chaos of Parliament with quiet resolve. Kirsty never confused passion with aggression or conviction with cruelty. She showed us that one could be principled without being strident, determined without being dismissive and ambitious without losing one's humanity.
On a more personal note, Kirsty was also a woman of remarkable discipline and vitality, a devoted Highland dancer, a runner, a careful eater and a self-acknowledged health fanatic; attributes, I must confess, I do not share. There is a cruel irony in the fact that Kirsty, who treated her body with such care and respect, was taken by cancer, while I, having faced the same disease, remain here. Life, it seems, can be profoundly unfair, and no amount of reason or science can fully explain the injustice of it all.
What I do know is that Kirsty lived fully, purposefully and generously. She gave her talents to her country, her compassion to her colleagues and her love to her family and friends. Her legacy is not just in the legislation she shaped or the causes she championed, but in the examples she set of decency, integrity and quiet courage.
To her husband, Sven, himself a former colleague, I offer my heartfelt condolences. I can only imagine the depth of his loss and the magnitude of his grief. Please know that Kirsty's impact reached far beyond these walls and that she is remembered with respect, admiration and affection by so many.
Kirsty Duncan made Parliament better simply by being in it. She made our lives richer by her presence, and though she is no longer with us, the values she embodied through compassion and service remain a light worth following. May we honour her best by carrying those values forward.
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Mr. Speaker, I rise today on behalf of the Bloc Québécois to pay tribute to Kirsty Duncan. I am also rising on behalf of two colleagues who also knew her, the member for and the member for , and who both wanted to say a few words.
Today, I pay tribute to an exceptional woman, a woman whose career, commitment and humanity left a lasting mark on the House and on thousands of lives. I am talking about Kirsty Duncan.
Kirsty was not just a fellow parliamentarian or a minister. She was also a scientist, an educator, a deeply committed woman who believed that politics should always serve the people. Before she even became a member of the House of Commons, she was a renowned academic and an expert in public health and pandemics.
Her many years of research and teaching gave her a quality that is sadly rare in politics: the ability to bring science and intellectual rigour to bear on the most concrete human realities. She believed that government decisions should be informed by knowledge and guided by compassion.
She was first elected in 2008 as the member for Etobicoke North and served her community steadfastly for over 15 years. She was re-elected five times and held important cabinet positions, including minister of science and minister of sport and persons with disabilities. She also served as the deputy House leader of the government. In each of these roles, she was driven by the same belief, that science, inclusion and empathy must guide public action.
As minister of science, she helped restore scientific research to its rightful place in government by defending academic freedom and data transparency and consistently reminding people that one must govern based on facts, not impressions.
Kirsty also took on the sport portfolio with the same diligence and sense of duty. She strongly believed that public policy should always seek to protect people, particularly the most vulnerable. I also want to acknowledge her ongoing commitment to safe sport, a battle she cared a lot about.
As the editorial team at The Hill Times suggested, if the government really wants to honour Kirsty's memory and political legacy, it should live up to its commitment and call a independent public inquiry on safe sport in her honour, because that is something that she cared deeply about and that she would have wanted to see through.
Even when illness struck, Kirsty remained standing. Physically weakened but undiminished in her determination, she continued to speak with a strength and clarity that left its mark on the House.
Kirsty passed away on January 26, 2026, at the age of 59, after a long battle with cancer. Her passing sparked a wave of tributes from across Canada. However, her legacy cannot be summed up in titles or dates. It lives on in the policies she shaped, in the institutions she helped strengthen, and in the belief she fully embodied, that politics can still be a tool for progress.
Today, on behalf of the Bloc Québécois, I would like to thank her. I thank her for her courage, her integrity and her humanity. Her example will continue to remind us that when politics is guided by knowledge and empathy, it can truly change lives.
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Madam Speaker, on behalf of the NDP, I rise to pay tribute to the late Hon. Kirsty Duncan, whose life was defined by an extraordinary commitment to science, justice and public service. Regardless of the partisan antics that happen in the House, we all collectively know, admire and are touched by the incredible strength of Kirsty Duncan. Today, I want to recognize a great Canadian who gave so much to public life in this country no matter what sphere she was working in, from sport to science to community to academic research to a life in politics. Kirsty Duncan was exemplary in all these areas. She has been taken from us far too young. Our thoughts and condolences go to her family, her husband, her friends and colleagues.
Before entering public life, Kirsty was already a distinguished scholar. As a medical geographer with a deep sense of moral responsibility, she devoted her academic career to understanding the links between environment, health and human well-being. Her pioneering work on trying to understand the origins of the 1918 Spanish flu, culminating in an ambitious and ethically grounded expedition internationally, reflected both intellectual courage and an unwavering belief that science exists to serve humanity. Even when the expedition did not yield the outcomes she had hoped for, she was transparent about the process and generous in sharing its lessons, exemplifying scientific integrity at its best.
Kirsty also spoke with rare honesty about the abuse she endured as a young athlete and the lifelong consequences it had on her health. That lived experience profoundly shaped her later work and gave her advocacy a depth that was impossible to ignore. As minister of sport, she brought a depth and embodied understanding to the work that supports Canadian athletes. As a parliamentarian representing Etobicoke North for 17 years, Kirsty brought her scholarly rigour into the House of Commons.
As the minister of science, she played a central role in restoring respect for evidence-based decision-making in federal policy and re-establishing the position of chief science officer. She understood that democracy is weakened when science is sidelined, and she worked deliberately to rebuild trust between researchers, government and the public.
Her tenure as minister of sport and persons with disabilities was marked by courage and compassion. She made ending abuse and harassment in sport a national priority, convening governments across jurisdictions and pressing institutions to confront systemic misconduct. This was not abstract policy work; it was deeply personal, and it mattered. Her insistence on accountability, safe reporting mechanisms and enforceable standards changed the national conversation on sport safety.
Kirsty was also a champion for women and girls in science. Her later work, including The Exclusion Effect, challenged institutions to confront how systemic barriers continue to push women out of scientific fields. She was unafraid to name uncomfortable truths, and she always paired critique with practical solutions. Across party lines, Kirsty was known for her seriousness of purpose, her respect for colleagues and her belief that public office carries an obligation to do better for those who have been excluded, harmed or ignored. Even when we disagreed, she engaged with integrity and care.
Kirsty Duncan leaves behind a legacy that spans academia, public policy and advocacy, a legacy rooted in evidence, empathy and courage. Canada is better because of her work. She will be remembered not only for the offices she held but for the principles she lived by. Kirsty truly was one of the good ones, and we, all of us in the House, mourn her loss. I know my colleague Richard Cannings particularly mourns her loss and will send his love to her family and friends, for they were both scientists at heart, and that bonded them in an unbelievable way.
Rest in peace.
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Madam Speaker, it is a great honour for me to rise today. It is a very difficult moment for me, but I want to pay tribute to my dear friend, Kirsty Duncan.
[English]
I do not think I have ever been in the House when we have had a round of speeches for a former colleague when the flag over the Peace Tower is at half-mast. Maybe we have, but it is an unusual moment. Today is the day that Kirsty's family is having a small ceremony. Her funeral is today, and as she would want, because she was so modest about all her accomplishments, it is a small, family event. However, the flag on the Peace Tower is at half-mast, as it should be. As so many of her friends and family who have posted notices have said, we are shattered, and our hearts are broken, as I think her husband Sven said, “into a million pieces.”
We think about politics and MPs who have served together, and it happened that Kirsty was elected in 2008, and I was elected in 2011. Through the grace of whatever House of Commons angels there are, I was seated right next to her. I was one seat behind her, and she was on the banquette. We were in the far corner next to the translators' booth in Centre Block; over in that corner now, here in West Block, it was me in the back row, Kirsty right in front of me and Justin Trudeau there. We would have lots of conversations.
The thing that is even more remarkable is that Kirsty and I had been friends for 15 years before either of us entered politics. I knew Kirsty initially through her work at Environment Canada. An odd coincidence was that for a brief period of time, my daughter was in child care in the same building where Kirsty worked. I was inspired by the member for and went back through some old text messages from Kirsty. I should not have done that before trying to talk. Kirsty always referred to my daughter, Cate, as “your wee bairn.” She would always say to me, through our lives, “How is your wee bairn?” I just looked back through some text messages where I had sent her pictures of my wee bairn with her wee bairn, of my daughter and granddaughter, and Kirsty had responded as one would expect: “Oh, your beautiful wee bairn.”
I want to reflect, as many members have. I want to give thanks for the heartfelt speech by the hon. member for , who already touched on some of the things I was going to say about Kirsty's work and her authorship of the book about the hunt for the 1918 flu virus. An extraordinary degree of intellectual curiosity led Kirsty, alone or almost alone among scientists, to wonder, now that we are experiencing climate change and some corpses in various places are thawing, if we could find a victim of the Spanish flu who had been completely frozen but from whom now, because of global warming, we could perhaps access tissue. We could perhaps find out more about the origins of the Spanish flu. It has been referenced, but it was an extraordinary effort of will to launch a global expedition to Spitsbergen, Norway, to get the help of the Norwegian government, to engage other scientists and to say this could matter. It was really a medical detective story that she led.
She accomplished so very much. I want to canvass what her family put in the obituary, the number of things they felt she would want to be remembered for and that she was passionate about: dance, music, art, sport, science and research and, of course, politics, as well as humanitarian causes that were also courageously championed by her husband, Sven.
Again, thanks to the member for for paying tribute to the extent that Kirsty's work on young women in sport who were victimized and sexually harassed was not swept under the carpet.
All of that makes for a person about whom someone could not say, even in summary fashion, what they gave the world.
Of course, she had an enormous joy for life, an exuberant embracing of life, and even with health challenges, she never felt sorry for herself. My God, what a hero she was. For the spirit of life, if there was ever someone for whom we could sing this at their funeral, and in my heart I am thinking of this, it would be her: “I am the Lord of the Dance, said he.” She had that spirit of dance, and Kirsty had pride, joy and love for her little students. Even as an MP, she kept teaching students in Highland dance, and it meant the world to her.
I am quite incoherent and overwhelmed, but I wrote to a few of her scientist colleagues because I thought it would be good in this place to have the words of scientists who worked with her.
I am first going to share what was said by one of Canada's leading scientists, Dr. Gordon McBean. He wrote:
Kirsty Duncan was an outstanding scientist who dealt with health and environmental issues including climate change. I first met Dr. Duncan in the 1990s when she was teaching climate change at University of Windsor and I was the Assistant Deputy Minister of the atmosphere-climate part of Environment Canada. I was very impressed by her scientific knowledge and leadership....
I was so pleased when she was elected in 2008 as she provided—