A 2025 Strike Exposes a System on Shaky Ground
Ranveer Joshua Jadhav, Staff Writer
Photo source: THE CANADIAN PRESS/Spencer Colby
COLLOQUIALLY—AND perhaps even derogatorily—dubbed “snail mail,” Canada Post emerges as this year’s unassuming victor in the communications arena, proving that slow and steady, can, in fact, win the race against large-scale corporate exploitation. Or, at the very least, the Canadian Union of Postal Workers (CUPW) strategically stalls their competition, demanding their fair share in a world where efficiency is prized over equity, and where labour is often undervalued in the shadow of corporate profit.
This past February, Trinity Times published a collection of articles in solidarity with the CUPW strike of November and December, 2024. On 22 May, with no new agreement in place, CUPW prepared to begin striking again, prompting the union to implement a nationwide overtime ban the following day, 23 May, at 12:01 a.m.. Here’s an overview of the recent Canada Post and CUPW conflicts, including what led to the dismissal of postal work in the first place, who is most impacted by the strike, and who is still dependent on such means of communication:
Behind the Bargaining Table
In February 2025, Canada Post and CUPW were still navigating the fallout from the late-2024 national strike. In December 2024, the Canada Industrial Relations board (CIRB) ordered CUPW workers back to work, extending their existing collective agreements—applicable to both the Urban Postal Operations and Rural and Suburban Mail Carriers (RSMC) bargaining units—until 22 May, 2025, to maintain continuity while negotiations continued under federal oversight. Meanwhile, CUPW had quietly prepared for a renewed confrontation; in late 2024, both units held strike authorization votes where 95.8% of Urban members and 95.5% RSMC members voted in favour of strike action, demonstrating overwhelming support and granting the union the legal mandate to initiate a walkout if necessary.
By February, momentum was shifting toward confrontation: with the agreement set to expire on 22 May, and such decisive mandates behind them, CUPW’s position hardened as the nation braced for what could become another major labour showdown.
19-23 May 2025: From Notice to Action
On 19 May, CUPW followed through on its ultimatum, delivering 72-hour strike notices for both urban and rural mail carriers, signaling a looming work disruption beginning 23 May. Canada Post confirmed this receipt and warned of interruptions, especially if a full strike were to later commence. Negotiations continued briefly on 21 May but ended without resolution. Canada Post, then, rebutted with a “global offer” package which asserted wage increases over four years, and shifts toward flexible roles; CUPW desisted, rejecting both the pay and the increased casualization.
With no deal, CUPW announced a nationwide overtime ban on 22 May; members would stop working beyond their standard hours of eight hours per day, forty hours per week. Meanwhile, Canada Post assured its customers that operations would continue, but warned of the inevitable, growing delays.
Mediation Fails to Break the Deadlock
Negotiations continued under federal mediation; however, their talks remained stalled. Key sticking points included Sunday and part-time weekend work, and the pension and casualization proposals. Canada Post continued to advocate for the introduction of part-time “flex” staff, while, on the other hand, CUPW adamantly called for protections for its full-time workers. Despite such conflicts branded as an “existential crisis” by a federal report, no truce was struck.
The Strike’s Ripple Effects
By July, the strike’s ban on overtime work had undeniable repercussions to the postal giant. In a 7 July report, Reuters confirmed that Canada Post had lost about 60% of its parcel volume, dropping its market share from 62% in 2019 to just 26.7% in 2024. Private courier services like UPS and FedEx are now scrambling to absorb the surplus, while small businesses—already burned during last year’s shutdown—tooted for stability over cost. The same report suggests that small operators collectively lost over $1 billion in sales during last year’s strike, and this year’s overtime ban risked repeating the same pattern.
So Why Does This All Matter?
At the heart of CUPW’s fight is their determination to draw attention to the inequitable structure of the postal industry. While Canada Post wanted more part-time “flex” workers for cost efficiency—especially on weekends—the union fears this would erode their full-time job standard, rendering their employees merely as disposable cogs in the system. Such a shift not only threatens job security, but also signals a broader devaluation of stable, unionized work in favour of a precarious, just-in-time labour model. For CUPW, this isn’t just about schedules or headcounts. Rather, it’s a battle over the future of dignified work in a sector already under immense pressure from privatization, digitization, and austerity-driven reforms.
Additionally, the CUPW strike unveils the systemic financial collapse at the heart of the Canada Post incorporation. Research by BNN Bloomberg reports that the company has been on a fiscal slide since 2018, losing over $3.8 billion and counting. In the first nine months of 2024 alone, Canada Post lost $803 million just from running its usual services, and then lost an additional $208 million due to the 2024 strike. The federal government even extended a $1.03 billion repayable loan to avert insolvency.
Moreover, letter mail continues to decline in the digital era, pressuring Canada Post to chase parcel volume. But, in so doing, the corporation faces stiff private competition and risks abandoning populations unable to use digital alternatives to physical mail, including rural communities, seniors, and incarcerated persons. These demographics rely on consistent and affordable access to traditional postal service not only for personal correspondence, but also, and perhaps more importantly, for medication deliveries, government documents, and a general connection to the outside world. For example, for incarcerated individuals who rely on paper mail for parole and legal requests, delays could mean threats against their legal rights and mental well-being. As the corporation shifts towards a profit-driven, parcel-based model, it risks reinforcing digital and geographic inequalities, calling into question its mandate as a public service provider meant to serve all Canadians, not just the most lucrative markets. This isn’t just a logistical matter, it’s a matter of social equity.
And so, the 2025 Canada Post dispute constitutes not only a typical labour clash, but also a broader national reckoning; Canadians are now forced to confront—if they haven’t already—the state of public infrastructure, underevaluation of essential workers, and a widening digital divide. A beloved Crown corporation strains under financial duress and digital disruption, postal workers fight to preserve full-time careers and quality service, and communities resultantly bear the weight. The consequences don’t just span into the realms of commerce and communication equity, but most importantly into the realm of justice; in light of this crisis, we must ask: Who deserves access? Whose labour is protected? And what kind of public infrastructure are we willing to fight for in an increasingly privatized world? As a federated delivery service, Canada Post is an essential social institution that connects people across vast geographies and patent inequalities. To let it—and its toil-worn employees—erode is to concede that connection and dignity no longer hold value in the systems we build. If it isn’t for the people, who are we really serving? (The corporation.)
