Few voices in Canada command the same moral clarity as Murray Sinclair’s. In Who We Are: Four Questions for a Life and a Nation, the former senator and chair of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission distills decades of public service, reflection, and heartbreak into a work of profound national introspection. Delivered in his own voice on audiobook, it’s less a memoir than a conversation — one that feels at once intimate and urgent. Sinclair structures his reflections around four deceptively simple questions: Where do we come from? Who are we? Where are we going? and Who do we want to be? Each question becomes a lens through which he examines both personal history and collective identity — from his childhood in the Red River Settlement to the long shadow of residential schools and the continuing struggle for justice and reconciliation. What makes Who We Are remarkable is its tone. Sinclair never lectures, never shames. Instead, he invites. His voice — calm, measured, deeply human — draws listeners into difficult truths without defensiveness or despair. The audiobook format amplifies this power: hearing Sinclair speak his own words lends the experience the gravity of ceremony. It feels less like an author reading and more like an Elder teaching. The book’s reach extends beyond politics or policy. Sinclair is asking Canadians, Indigenous and non-Indigenous alike, to reckon with the moral foundations of the country. What does it mean to live on stolen land? How do we remember stories that were deliberately erased? How can reconciliation move beyond apology and into action? The questions are not meant to comfort; they are meant to awaken. Stylistically, Who We Are is elegant in its simplicity. There are no rhetorical flourishes or theatrical turns — just the steady rhythm of truth-telling. Sinclair’s compassion for both survivors and settlers alike is what gives the work its rare power. His vision of reconciliation is not transactional but transformational: a lifelong commitment to empathy, education, and courage. For Canadians weary of platitudes and performative politics, Who We Are feels like a reckoning and a renewal. It’s not a history lesson, nor a manifesto, but something rarer — a moral compass.