Should Trudeau stay or should he go?

This indecision's buggin' me (esta indecisión me molesta)
If you don't want me, set me free (Si no me quieres, librame)
Exactly whom I'm supposed to be (Dime! ¿Qué tengo ser?) …
Should I stay or should I go now? (Yo me enfrio o lo soplo?)
--The Clash

Somewhere, there exists a grainy, low-quality video fragment of a conversation between Sophie Gregoire and Justin Trudeau. I can't pinpoint the video's age, but I suspect it harks back to Trudeau's pre-prime ministerial days. Perhaps it dates back to the charity announcement when he vowed to fight Patrick Brazeau, the Indigenous Conservative senator.

In the video, the couple stands amidst a crowd in what appears to be a reception. The surreptitious recording, likely captured on a phone from just a few feet away, shows Sophie imploring Justin to "be humble." His response, delivered in a whiny voice carrying the intimacy of a close relationship, is anything but humble. He replies, "But Darling, this is what I do. I fight and I win. I was born to win." Some of you might have seen the exchange; regrettably, I couldn't locate a copy to link here.

When contemplating whether Trudeau will contest the next election or bow out before it arrives, this conversation snippet springs to mind. Justin exudes the hubris of a messianic figure, thriving in adversity because he believes destiny has marked him. Yet, he also possesses the traits of a classic narcissistic personality (these qualities aren't mutually exclusive), and narcissists grow restless and disheartened when they perceive insufficient adoration. Not being the center of adoration unsettles them, and without delving into psychology without a license, I'll assert that the PM appears unsettled lately.

His recent trip to India for the G20 displayed a taciturn man: withdrawn, uncommitted, and perhaps even bored. His body language conveyed seclusion, almost a retreat. He sat in rigid postures, his jacket buttoned while seated, appearing somewhat frumpy, even though his flashy socks remained perfectly matched. He seemed out of his element.

The G20's outcome was disastrous, and although a broken plane was an unfortunate addition, that wasn't the worst of it. Unilaterally suspending trade talks with India without explanation a week before the summit, he must have anticipated a lackluster outcome. He couldn't have expected much. Yet he went, seemingly because staying home would have been even worse (Vladimir Putin and Xi Jinping were no-shows). The G20 summit overlapped with the Tory policy convention in Quebec City, where Pierre Poilievre basked in his party's admiration. Escaping Dodge, even if only marginally, was the better option.