Protecting Treaty 9 Lands and Waters

[Click to see in English] ᐦᐊᑕᓯᓐ-ᒉᐃᒥᔅ ᐯᔨ ᓃᑖᓂᒡ ᐊᓂᑌᐦ ᐙᐸᓅᑖᑦ ᐊᣆᑌᐦᐁᕆᔦᐤ ᑳ ᐄᐦᑕᑣᐤ ᒌ ᐊᒋᔥᑖᐊᐸᔥᑖᐆᒡ ᐯᔭᒄ ᐊᓂᔫ ] ᒫᐆᒡ ᐁᐦ ᒦᔫ ᐋᐸᑕᓃᒡ ᐆᑕᐦ ᐊᔅᒌᒡ ᐁᐐ ᒥᔫᓈᑲᑕᑲᓅᒡ ᐊᔅᒌ ᓀᔥᑕ ᐁᐦ ᒥᔻᑲᒥᑕᑲᓅᒡ ᓂᐲ ᑲᔦᐦ ᒪᓯᐌᐦ ᒉᐦᒀᓐ ᐁᐦ ᐊᔫᔨᒪᑯᒡ ᐊᓐᑌᐦ ᐊᔅᒌᒡ ᒉᒌ ᒥᔫᐸᐐᒡ ᐁᐦᐐ ᐊᑕᔥᑌᔨᑕᒥᒄ ᐃᔨᔫ ᐄᐦᑐᐎᓐ᙮ ᐆ ᓈᔥᒋ ᐁᐦ ᐊᒋᐦᐊᐸᐐᒡ ᐁᐦ ᐋᐦᒋᐸᐐᒡ ᐊᔅᒌ ᐊᓐᑌᐦ ᐄᔨᔫᒡ ᐁᐄᔥ ᐐᑕᒀᒡ ‘ᒪᔅᒉᒄ’ ᑲᔦᐦ ᐊᓂᑌᐦ ᐄᔥ ᓅᒋᒦᐦᒡ ᐁᐦ ᐐᒋᑣᐤ ᐆᒥᔥᑫᐦᒀᐤ ᐄᔨᔫᒡ ᓂᐲᐆᐄᔨᔫᒡ ᐁᐄᔥ ᐊᒋᔅᒉᔨᒫᑲᓅᑣᐤ ᑲᔦᐦ᙮ ᐆᔅᑌᐦ ᓂᔥᑕᒪᑎᓅ ᒦᓐ ᓂᔮᔪ ᒋᐦᐁ ᐱᓪᓕᔭᓐ ᐁᐦ ᐸᐸᒥᐾᑖᓄᒡ ᑳᐦ ᒥᔖᒡ ᒌᒫᓐ ᐁᐦ ᐋᐸᑕᓯᒡ ᑲᔦᐦ ᐁᐦ ᐸᐦᑳᓂᔥᑖᑲᓅᒀᐤ ᒦᓐ ᐊᑕᑑ ᒥᓕᔭᓂᔅ ᒉᒌ ᔭᐆᒐᐸᐐᑖᑦ ᑳ ᒥᔖᒡ ᒌᒫᓐ ᒣᔑᑲᒻ ᐊᐦᐴᓂᐦ ᑲᔦᐦ ᐆ ᐁᐃᔨᔅᐱᓇᑳᑦ ᐎ

The Hudson Bay and James Bay Lowlands of northern Ontario form one of the world’s most vital carbon sinks and life supporting areas, as an ecosystem of profound cultural importance. This vast landscape of peatlands, known in Cree as ‘muskeg’, is home to the Omushkego Cree, known as the water people. Storing over 35 billion tonnes of carbon, sequestering millions of tonnes more each year, this region is helping stabilize the global climate.

These lowlands are the homelands of the Indigenous communities that were signatories to Treaty 9. As the Omushkego people, they have stewarded the land for generations and maintain a deep spiritual and cultural connection to its rivers, wildlife, and muskeg. The region’s ecological wealth underpins traditional ways of life: it is a nursery for biodiversity, supporting threatened species like woodland caribou, wolverine, and sturgeon, as well as a sanctuary for hundreds of migratory birds. Protecting the Hudson—James Bay Lowlands is not only crucial for meeting climate goals and conserving biodiversity, but also for upholding Indigenous peoples’ rights and heritage.

Despite its global significance, this fragile region faces an unprecedented threat from proposed mining development in the area popularly known as the Ring of Fire. The Ring of Fire is the name mining companies have given to a sizable mineral deposit located in Treaty 9. With a lifespan of over 100 years, the proposed mining development will have negative impacts on the healthiness of nature and the ability of current and future generations to exercise Treaty and inherent rights, including rights to conserve and manage the land, and to hunt, fish, and trap.

In this context, the Indigenous grassroots have begun mobilizing to protect their homelands, asserting both environmental, inherent, and Treaty rights. One such grassroots group is the Friends of the Attawapiskat River (the Friends), a coalition of local community members dedicated to protecting the Attawapiskat River watershed from mining in the Ring of Fire. Their efforts highlight the critical need to amplify Indigenous grassroot voices and why honouring Treaty promises is inseparable from meeting climate and conservation goals.

Currently, the allowance of harmful mining practices discredits the Ontario provincial government’s ability to manage and regulate mining-related activities. This has led to calls for decisions to be Indigenous-led and respect the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous People (UNDRIP), free, prior, and informed consent (FPIC), and numerous court challenges and rulings requiring mining regulators and governments to drastically improve current practices. Critical minerals for reducing fossil fuels are also located in other areas, not only within the pristine Breathing Lands.

The voice of the grassroots continues to grow in response to government and industry making plans made without proper Indigenous consent. The Friends have since become a leading grassroots voice on rights and climate action in the region. This case study, the quotes and reflections throughout, are from the Friends. Through outreach, ceremony, and advocacy, this case study is among the efforts the Friends are taking to work with allies to protect these peatlands and the rights of those who live downstream of the proposed Ring of Fire development.

This case study examines the Indigenous-led climate action in Treaty 9, focusing on efforts to protect the Hudson-James Bay Lowlands from Ring of Fire mining. It begins by detailing the background and context—the mining proposals, the ecological importance of the region, and the legal landscape—before analyzing how Indigenous communities are mobilizing on the ground and in policy arenas. It then outlines policy recommendations informed by this struggle, such as recognizing Indigenous Protected Areas and enforcing FPIC, and concludes with reflections on the broader significance of grassroots movements.

[Click to see in English] ᐆ ᑲᐐᔅᒃ ᐁ ᒥᓯᐌ ᐁᐦ ‘ᓈᓂᑑᐊᑰᑕᔥᑖᓄᒡ ᑲᔦᐦ ᐁᐐ ᒦᔫᑲᓇᐙᐸᑕᑲᓅᒡ ᐊᓐ ᐐᔓᐌᐎᓐ ᐯᔨᑯᔥᑌᐤ ᐋᔅᒌᐦ ᑲᔦᐦ ᓂᐲᐦ’ ᐗᐦᑏᐌᐅ ᑖᓐ ᐁᐄᔥ ᐊᑯᔅᑖᑕᑲᓃᒡ ᐋᓂᑦ ᐁᐄᔥ ᓃᐴᑣᐤ ᐄᔨᔫᒡ ᐁᐦ ᓃᑳᓂᔥᒀᑲᓅᑖᐤ ᐊᑕᔅᒉᔨᑕᒨᐦᐄᐌᐅᓐ ᑲᔦᐦ ᐯᔭᑯᔥᑌᐆᔖᑉ ᐊᔅᒌᔫᐦ ᐁᐦ ᐄᔅᐸᐐᒡ ᒌᔑᒄ ᑲᔦᐦ ᐊᔅᒌ ᐁᐦ ᒫᔥᑖᓅᒡ ᑲᔦᐦ ᓈᔥᒋ ᐁ ᓂᑑᐌᔨᑕᒧᒃ ᒉ ᐋᐦᒋᐸᐐᒡ ᒉᒀᓐ ᐁᐄᔥ ᓂᓈᑲᑕᔥᑖᑲᓅᒡ ᐁᐦ ᓅᑲᑕᑲᓅᑦ ᐁ ᐊᒋᔥᑌᐃᑕᑲᓅᑦ ᐄᔨᔫᒡ ᐆ᙮

Through this in-depth exploration, this case study illustrates the critical role of Indigenous leadership in addressing climate change and environmental justice, and the urgent need for systemic change to respect Indigenous rights as a cornerstone to collective action for climate, conservation, and justice.

Background and context

Getting to know the Ring of Fire

More than 33,000 mining claims have been staked in a region dubbed the “Ring of Fire,” covering some 5,000 square km within Treaty 9 territory. Exploration permits granted by the province of Ontario, allowing for line cutting, drilling, and construction activities, are opening up this globally unique and intact peatland centred in the James Bay Lowlands. None of these claims and permits have been issued with the consent of the impacted and downstream Indigenous communities, which the Friends call home.

Spanning the coast of James Bays, the peatland (muskeg) of this region is an ecosystem of global importance. Its peat soils—some extending many meters deep—have accumulated over thousands of years, locking away billions of tonnes of carbon. By one estimate, the peatlands of the Hudson-—James Bay Lowlands contain up to five times as much carbon per square metre as the Amazon rainforest. In total, more than 35 billion tonnes of carbon are stored in these soils.

As long as the peatland ecosystem remains intact (wet and cool), this carbon is kept out of the atmosphere—effectively making the region a natural carbon sink, sequestering greenhouse gases that are vital for drawing down climate damaging emissions.

[Click to see in English] ᓇᒧᐎ ᒨᔥ ᒋᑲ ᒌ ᒨᔅᑳᑲᓀᐦᐁᓐ ᐆᑲᐐᒪᐆ ᐊᔅᒌ ᔔᔮᓐ ᐆᐦᒋ ᑖᐹ ᒦᓐ ᑳᐤ ᒋᑲᒌ ᐄᑕᑲᓐ ᐊᓐ ᒉᒀᓐ᙮’ – ᐯᔭᒃ ᐊᓐ ᑳ ᐊᐹᒡ ᐊᓐᑕ ᐐᒉᐙᑲᓐᐦ ᒌᐃᔥ ᐐᑕᒻ

You cannot keep digging up Mother Earth for a dollar because you’re digging up something that can’t be replaced.

– member of the Friends

Disturbing this landscape—by draining wetlands, digging them up, or subjecting them to extractive development—risks releasing that carbon, turning a globally significant carbon sink into a source of emissions. In the face of climate change, scientists and Indigenous land users alike warn that protecting these peatlands is critical to prevent climate-altering levels of carbon from being released. In other words, the fate of these Northern peatlands strongly impacts Canada’s ability to meet climate targets and reduce emissions by 40 per cent by 2030.

Beyond the climate regulation and stabilization the Hudson-James Bay Lowlands provides, it is also a rich habitat for wildlife and performs irreplaceable ecological functions. The peatlands filter water and sustain the health of the Attawapiskat, Albany, Winisk, and other great rivers that flow through this area and downstream to James Bay. This region is one of the last strongholds for Woodland Caribou in Ontario and supports other sensitive species such as the wolverine and polar bear at its northern edges. Countless migratory birds nest or stop over in the muskeg and coastal marshes—indeed the coasts of James and Hudson bays are globally significant breeding grounds for waterfowl and shorebirds.

Getting to know the legal landscape

Inaction by industry and governments to implement the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous People (UNDRIP) and respect Treaty promises is fuelling violations of Indigenous rights—from rights to clean water, free, prior, and informed consent, and conservation of nature. As Indigenous rights holders continuously struggle to access legal services so that they can document, raise awareness, and call for policy change in response to threats to their rights and interests, advancing access to justice has become critical to the Friends’ efforts to amplify grassroot voices.

In the context of the overlapping laws and jurisdictions impacting the Friends’ rights, as Indigenous and Treaty peoples, this section seeks to unpack a series of reforms in which the Friends have been directly involved and have advocated on behalf of in proposing a way forward.

International law and getting to “consent”

In 2016, Canada announced its endorsement to support the international United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous People (UNDRIP) “without qualification” and to implement it. UNDRIP gives particular recognition to rights of Indigenous peoples over developments affecting them and their lands, their right to conserve and protect the environment and productive capacity of their lands and resources.

In 2021, the Canadian Parliament enacted the domestic United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous People Act (UNDA) which affirms UNDRIP “as a universal international human rights instrument with application in Canadian law”¹. The Supreme Court of Canada (SCC) recently found that through the UNDA, UNDRIP is “incorporated into the country’s domestic positive law” and the Federal Court found that UNDRIP, as a “framework for reconciliation,” underscores the importance of “free, prior, and informed consent of Indigenous peoples to all decision-making processes that affect them.”

Among the obligations the UNDA imposes on Canada are to:

affirm UNDRIP as a human rights instrument with application within Canada; and
require the implementation of an action plan to achieve the objects of UNDRIP

Despite these recognitions and forward legal momentum, much work remains. As the United Nations Special Rapporteur on the human rights to safe drinking water and sanitation, Pedro Arrojo-Agudo recently found extractive activities, including mining, continue to breach human rights, particularly the right to water of Indigenous People. In spring 2024, Mr. Arrojo-Agudo met with Indigenous representatives receiving compelling testimonies about harsh living conditions on reserve, where, in many cases, not even their human right to drinking water was guaranteed. The Friends met with Mr. Arrojo-Agudo in Ottawa during his Canadian tour and expressed that “people outside the community don’t understand the struggles we face as First Nations. Canada is a prosperous country but it feels like we’re still living in third-world conditions.”

As the Friends explained to the UN Rapporteur, without access to clean water, community members suffer from rashes and other skin-related issues. Threats of mining activities contaminating their rivers and muskeg (peatlands) further impact community members, inducing fear and anxiety. In recognition of these concerns, the UN Rapporteur stated, “Indigenous Peoples disproportionally face the brunt of risks of toxic water contamination with serious health impacts. It is regrettable that those who cause damage to or pollution of water sources are not being held accountable and required to compensate for the harms.”

Among the “deep reforms” recommended by the Rapporteur are laws that promote a human rights-based ecosystem approach, with equal participation of Indigenous Peoples and governments guaranteeing the principle of free, prior, and informed consent.

While these findings are directly applicable to Ontario, and the continued granting of mining claims and permits without the consent of Indigenous peoples, there remains no provincial law adopting UNDRIP and thus the role of it and UNDA is limited. While UNDRIP can be relied on to interpret existing law or aid in resolving ambiguities in statutory language, as a general principle of constitutional law, the federal government cannot make an international or federal law apply in an area of provincial jurisdiction. Instead, it is up to an individual province acting on its own behalf to implement a provincial law that would give effect to an international treaty, like UNDRIP. Therefore, while the UNDA and its accompanying action plan may provide helpful language and policy direction, advocacy is still needed for a provincial law which implements UNDRIP, for it to have a fully binding effect.

Impact assessment law and application to mining projects

Indigenous peoples, including the Friends, continue to vocalize the lack of meaningful consultation on extractive projects. Respecting Indigenous voices and communities, which stand to be most directly affected from the extractive industry’s legacy and new mining projects, means requiring the most robust of assessment processes—and one attuned to Indigenous laws.

There is space for this to occur, too, recognizing that the Impact Assessment Act (IAA) was written with UNDRIP in mind and its implementation is hardwired into its processes and decision-making. For example, the IAA requires consideration of Indigenous rights and Indigenous knowledge, and reaffirms Canada’s commitment to seek the free, prior, and informed consent of Indigenous peoples in relation to decisions under the IAA.

Unfortunately, due to a “threshold” approach, wherein only mining projects of the most significant size are subject to an impact assessment (IA), it means the majority of mining projects—and their accompanying infrastructure, like smelters, are not subject to IA review². This paucity in the application of law then removes the potential to advance Indigenous-led IAs, shared decision-making, and a mechanism that could facilitate the seeking of consent.

Concerns about the Impact Assessment Agency of Canada (IAAC), a federal authority, have also been raised by the Friends, who have been vocal in pushing for Indigenous-led processes. Citing the need to build trust and have the requisite expertise and accreditation to truly undertake a process that respects Natural Law and Treaty, the Friends continue to advocate for the greater inclusion of Indigenous community members in IA processes.

Provincial mining laws and regressive amendments

Recent amendments to the provincial mining law, the Mining Act, ushered in by Bill 71, Building More Mines Act, 2023 (Bill 71), upended already minimal protections in place for Indigenous rights, the environment, and communities. The amendments reduced requirements on mining companies to cover the costs of cleaning up once mining operations have closed, removed the need for detailed closure plans prior to starting operations, and allow mining operators—and not the government—to review the adequacy of technical plans.

There’s a good reason for financial and closure plans to be required in full detail upfront. Ontario is the largest mineral producer in Canada but it’s also the province with a disproportionate share of orphaned and abandoned mines—5,000 of Canada’s 10,000+ are within the province. Bill 71 weakened the existing standard that requires a company to prepare a mine closure plan before it can start building the mine.

As the Friends shared with the Ontario legislature when Bill 71 was proposed, these changes take Ontario back to a time when there was insufficient mine closure planning and financial resourcing, causing hundreds of thousands of tonnes of highly toxic chemicals to remain on the landscape. The impact of these reforms and resulting pollution is most likely to be felt by Indigenous communities. As the UN Rapporteur on toxics observed, following a tour of Canada in 2020, “Indigenous people in particular find themselves on the wrong side of a toxic divide.” It was within this context that the Friends requested Bill 71 be withdrawn in its entirety.

This provincial context is critical to understand in light of the mining interest in the Ring of Fire region. Toronto-based Juno Corp has become the single largest claim-holder in the region, controlling over 17,000 mining claims (covering ~333,000 hectares)—more than half of all claims in the Ring of Fire. The second-largest holder is Ring of Fire Metals (Wyloo’s subsidiary), with over 10,600 claims.

Unfortunately, Ontario has purposely removed the opportunities to ensure that Indigenous peoples have the right to own, use, and control their lands and territories as required by Article 26(2) of UNDRIP; that free, prior, and informed consent for any project affecting Indigenous lands and resources be obtained, per Article 32(2) of UNDRIP. Ontario’s laws remain stagnant on the recognition of and respect for Indigenous Natural Law.

Case study analysis

Land-based mobilization, ceremony, and advocacy

In the face of top-down decisions and near exclusion from decisions being made impacting Indigenous rights and land, the grassroots response to the proposed Ring of Fire development is growing. Its growth is also deeply rooted in the land itself.

A powerful example of this occurred in fall 2023, when the Friends of the Attawapiskat River organized a multi-week canoe expedition down the Attawapiskat River, bringing together youth and Elders from across the region to assert their presence and responsibility on the land. Youth from communities including Attawapiskat and Neskantaga navigated ancestral waterways for 240 miles. Along the journey they held ceremonies at key sites. This journey was far more than a canoe trip—it was a form of ceremonial stewardship.

[Click to see in English] ‘ᐆ ᐊᐳᐎ ᔕᓇᐙᑕᔥᑣᐤ ᓂᑕᔭᒨᓇᓂᔫ ᑭᔦᐦ ᑖᓐ ᐁᐦᐃᔥ ᒋᔅᒡᔩᑖᑰᐦᐆᔮᒡ ᑲᔦᐦ ᐁᐦ ᐄᔨᔫ ᑖᐸᐌᐦᑕᒨᓂᐦ ᑲᔦᐦ ᐁᐦ ᐐ ᑲᓇᐌᔩᑕᒫᒡ ᒉ ᒫᒨ ᐊᐸᑕᔥᑖᔮᒡ ᐊᔅᒌ ᑲᔦᐦ ᒉ ᒦᔫ ᐐᒉᐆᑑᔮᒡ᙮’ -ᐯᔭᒃ ᐊᓐ ᑳ ᐊᐹᒡ ᐊᓐᑕ ᐐᒉᐙᑲᓐᐦ ᒌᐃᔥ ᐐᑕᒻ

“This paddle is our statement, in recognition of who we are, as Treaty peoples, in honouring promises to be Kind, to Share, to be Honest – that is our Strength.”

— member of the Friends

By travelling the river and caring for the water through ceremony, participants reinforced their spiritual connection to the territory and drew attention to what is at stake if the river were to be polluted or harmed by development. Such land-based actions embody the principle that climate action is not just about policy but also about relationship to place, demonstrating an Indigenous approach of environmental guardianship that blends activism with cultural practice.

Insights and challenges from the grassroots mobilization

The Indigenous-led climate action around the proposed Ring of Fire development offers several key insights.

First, it demonstrates that Indigenous laws and knowledge are central to viable climate solutions. Whether through the revival of Treaties as living agreements or the formation of coalitions like Friends of the Attawapiskat River that operate according to Indigenous values, these efforts show alternative models of stewardship. Because of governments’ reticence to implement UNDRIP into provincial law and industry’s lack of respect that consent must be provided before any extractive developments occur on Indigenous lands, getting to a time and place when there is respect for Indigenous Natural Law remains a critical goal of the Friends’ work and advocacy.

Second, the Indigenous grassroots movement underscores the importance of ceremony and land-based healing in activism. By conducting ceremonies at places harmed by extraction, Indigenous land protectors both recognize the trauma to the land and reaffirm their duty to care for those places. This process can strengthen community resolve and present a moral narrative that aligns with Indigenous worldviews and law. It reminds everyone that beyond the charts of ore deposits and carbon emissions, there are sacred relationships and spiritual bonds that cannot be quantified. While impact assessment, as a process, is one mechanism that could allow for considerations of social and cultural values (and also allows space to substitute Crown IA processes for Indigenous-led processes), because of its broad lack of application to most mining projects, this remains an underdeveloped forum for Indigenous-led decision-making.

Due to years of feeling misled or excluded, the Friends are among the Indigenous voices pointing out a deep erosion of trust in government and industry actors. The grassroots people—the people of Treaty 9—are owed a fiduciary duty. Instead, Ontario is relying on divide-and-conquer tactics to push forward a project absent the free, prior, and informed consent of all communities.

[Click to see in English] ‘ᐊᓂᒌ ᒥᔑᑲᔔᐊᓂᒡ ᐊᔭᐆᒡ ᐁᐄᔥ ᐯᐦᑖᑲᓯᑣᐤ᙮ ᓇᒪᐐ ᐆᔦᔑᓐ ᐐᒌᓀ ᓀᔥᑕ ᐋᑳ ᐐᒌᓀ ᐊᓐᑕ ᐄᔨᔫ ᐄᑕᐎᓂᒡ᙮ ᐐᑖᑲᓐ ᐊᓐᒌ ᑳ ᓂᑑᐦᐆᑣᐤ ᐊᒃᔦᐦ ᑳ ᓅᑕᒣᓭᑣᐤ ᐊᓐᑕ ᐊᔅᒌᒡ᙮’ -ᐯᔭᒃ ᐊᓐ ᑳ ᐊᐹᒡ ᐊᓐᑕ ᐐᒉᐙᑲᓐᐦ ᒌᐃᔥ ᐐᑕᒻ

“The grassroots have a voice. It doesn’t matter if you live on or off reserve. It means everybody that hunted, trapped, fished on the land.”

– member of the Friends

Policy recommendations

Recommendation 1: Recognize and support Indigenous declarations of lands protection

A powerful long-term solution to safeguard the Hudson—James Bay Lowlands is to establish Indigenous Protected and Conserved Areas (IPCAs) led by Indigenous peoples. While the meaning of an IPCA will vary among communities, they often share three core principles: (1) they are Indigenous-led; (2) they represent a long-term commitment to conservation; and (3) they elevate Indigenous rights and responsibilities.

The creation of IPCAs creates the space for Indigenous communities to lead in protecting lands and waters. An IPCA would formally designate large swaths of the peatlands and watersheds as protected from industrial development, under governance models that centre Indigenous law and stewardship. Such IPCAs would recognize—at their core—the need to uphold Treaty rights.

[Click to see in English] ‘ᐐ ᔮᔫᑕᐆᒡ ᐊᔅᒌᔫ ᐁᐆᒃ ᐙ ᐄᑑᑕᒀᐤ᙮ ᐋᐹᐦᑑ ᒉᐄᒥᔅ ᐯᐄ ᐁᐦᐄᔥᐸᔖᒡ ᒋᑲᐄᔥ ᐲᑲᐸᑕᒨᒡ᙮ ᒋᒃ ᓅᑲᓐ ᑲᔦᐦ ᐊᓐᑌᐦ ᐆᒡ ᒌᔑᑯᕝᐦ ᑲᔩᔥ ᒪᔑᓈᔥᑌᐦᐾᒡ᙮ ᐁᐦᑲ ᒫᒃ ᐄᑑᑕᒥᒣᐦ ᐊᓐ ᑲᔩᔥ ᐐ ᐄᑐᑕᒥᓐ ᑭᔭᐦ ᔖᔥ ᐆᓈᑕᔥᑕᔩᓐ᙮ ᔖᐧᐦ ᑕᔅᑖᑯᐗᐦᐋᐤ ᐆᑳᐐᒫᐤ ᐊᔅᒌ᙮’ -ᐯᔭᒃ ᐊᓐ ᑳ ᐊᐹᒡ ᐊᓐᑕ ᐐᒉᐙᑲᓐᐦ ᒌᐃᔥ ᐐᑕᒻ

“What they’re going to do is basically rape the land. You’re talking about an area maybe half the size of James Bay that they’re going to tear apart. It’s going to show up in the satellite. And once you do that, you’ve already damaged it. Mother Earth has already been hurt.”

– member of the Friends

In calling for the protection of region where the Ring of Fire is proposed, the Friends have released a declaration stating:

[Click to see in English] ᒌᔭᓅ ᑲᔦᐦ ᐅ ᐁᔨᐅᓯᓇᑳᓱᐐᒃ ᒥᔑᑲᔔᐊᓂᒡ ᐊᓐᑌᐦ ᐆᒡ ᐄᔫᐊᑕᔥᑌᔨᑕᒨᐎᓐ 9 ᑲᔦᐦ ᐋᐌᓂᒡ ᐄᔨᔫ ᑳ ᓇᓃᐴᔥᑕᒧᐙᑣᐤ ᑲᔦᐦ ᐊᓐᑐᐌᐄᑖᑯᒡ ᒉᒌ ᐊᓂᔥᑲᒨᔮᒡ ᑲᔦᐦ ᐁᐦ ᐸᑕᔅᒋᓂᒫᒡ ᐁᔥᒃ ᐋᑳ ᐆᔥᑕᑲᓅᒡ ᐊᑕᐦᑑ ᒉᒌ ᐊᑎᔅᒀᑏᐸᐧᐎᒡ ᒉᒀᓐ ᐊᓐᑌᐦ ᒋᑕᔅᒌᓅᒡ᙮

ᐆᔥᑖᐦ ᐆ ᐊᔑᒪᐙᑎᔒᐌᐎᓐ ᐁ ᒦᔫ ᑲᓇᐗᑉᑕᑲᓅᒀᐤ ᐊᒌᐦ ᑲᔦᐦ ᓂᐲᐦ ᐁᐦ ᐄᔅᐸᓂᑳᒡ ᐊᓐᑌᐦ ᐆᕝᐦ ᐊᔥᒌᐃ ᐁᐦ ᓇᓈᑲᑕᔥᑖᑲᓅᒀᐤ ᐊᑕᐯᔨᒋᒉᓲ ᐄᑕᔅᒡ ᑲᔦᐦ ᐊᓐ ᒋᔨᔥ ᐋᐸᑕᓰᑲᑕᒨᒃ ᐊᓐᑌᐦ ᐄᔥ ᓃᔣᔥᒡ ᐋᐴᓂᐦ ᑲᔦᐦ ᒉᒌ ᒌᑲᐙᐸᑕᑲᓅᒡ ᒪᒨ ᐁᐄᔥ ᑲᓇᐗᐸᑕᒃᓅᒡ ᒉ ᒋᐤ ᒦᔫ ᓃᐴᒪᑯᒡ ᐊᒻᑦ ᐄᔨᔫ ᐊᑕᔥᑌᔨᑕᒨᐙᑲᓐ ᒉ ᒦᔫᑲᑑᑕᒫᑐᐐᒃ ᑲᔦᐦ ᒉ ᒦᔫᐊᑎᔥᒉᐃᑕᒨᐦᐄᑕᐐᒃ ᑲᔦᐦ ᒉ ᒪᒨ ᐋᐸᑕᔥᑕᔨᒃ ᐊᔅᒌ

WE, AS THE GRASSROOTS of TREATY 9, who are Indigenous rights holders and whose consultation and consent is required prior to any development in our territories

MAKE THIS DECLARATION OF PROTECTION FOR THE LANDS AND WATERS under our Natural Laws and as our commitment to the next seven generations, and in recognition of our shared responsibility to uphold Treaty rights to be kind, to be honest, to share the land

This statement, which remains open for public sign-on and endorsement by allies, is akin to an IPCA, recognizing that Canada’s commitment to protect 30 per cent of its lands and waters by 2030 cannot be met without protecting places like the James Bay Lowlands, and doing so in partnership with Indigenous peoples offers a path consistent with reconciliation.

The declaration also advances the global targets for biodiversity protection set out in the recent Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework reached at COP15. Among the targets that promises the furtherance of Indigenous leadership in conservation is Target 22. It is pivotal in providing new starting points for the protection of environmental human rights defenders, requiring conservation decision-making to fully and equitably respect the cultures and rights over lands, territories, resources, and traditional knowledge of Indigenous Peoples. As the text reads:

TARGET 22

Ensure the full, equitable, inclusive, effective, and gender-responsive representation and participation in decision-making, and access to justice and information related to biodiversity by Indigenous peoples and local communities, respecting their cultures and their rights over lands, territories, resources, and traditional knowledge, as well as by women and girls, children and youth, and persons with disabilities, and ensure the full protection of environmental human rights defenders.

For the federal government to achieve Target 22, IPCAs (like the protection declaration made by the Friends), are a critical way forward. The intrinsic value of IPCAs in safeguarding biodiversity echoes the growing recognition that Indigenous Natural Laws, which teach respect and responsibility to lands, have been more effective at protecting the health of ecosystems and species than the traditional conservation practices established by the governments in Canada.

ᒋᒌ ᐄᑐᑕᒃᓅᒡ 2: ᐁᐦᓇᑐᐌᔨᑕᑯᒡ ᐁᐦ ᐐᑖᑲᒡ ᒥᔐᐁ ᑲᔦᐦ ᐆᑖᒡ ᑲᔦᐦᓄᐦ ᒋᔅᒉᔨᑲᒪᐦᐊᑲᓅᑦ ᒉ ᓇᐦᐁᔨᑕᒃ (FPIC) ᑆᐅᒥᔥ ᐊᑕᐦᑑ ᐗᔨᐦᐆ | Recommendation 2: Require meaningful free, prior, and informed consent before any further approval

As a matter of urgency, the Friends have called for a moratorium on decision-making for the proposed Ring of Fire, urging governments to halt the practice of granting mining claims and mineral exploration permits absent the free, prior, and informed consent (FPIC) of Indigenous rights holders. FPIC means that Indigenous communities have the freedom to decide (free of coercion), are engaged early (prior to any final decision or ground disturbance), and are fully informed of all implications, with the opportunity to say yes or no on their own terms.

To implement this, the Friends have said that Ontario and Canada should, at minimum, pause the approval of any new mining exploration permits, road construction, or other project advancements until consent is obtained from all affected First Nations. Grassroots voices, not just Band council leadership, need to be heard and heeded; special effort should be made to include Elders, women, and youth, whose perspectives are sometimes bypassed in Crown consultation frameworks.

ᒋᒌ ᐄᑐᑕᒃᓅᒡ 3: ᐁᐦ ᐃᑕᔥᑌᔪᑕᒃᓅᒡ ᐄᔨᔫᒡ ᐆᐐᔗᐎᓂᐅᐗᐅ ᐊᓐᑌᐦ ᐄᔥᐸᒥᒡ ᐁᐅᒡ ᓇᓈᑲᑎᔥᑕᑲᓄᐐᒡ᙮ | Recommendation 3: Respect Indigenous assertions of sovereignty

As a corollary to the above recommendations, policymakers should seriously consider the call issued by multiple First Nations and environmental groups for a moratorium on development in the Ring of Fire until certain conditions are met. Those conditions, as articulated by the Friends include: (a) robust protection plans in place for the sensitive peatlands and waterways, and (b) the basic needs of local communities (like clean drinking water, housing, and health services) being addressed before any mining “opportunities”.

[Click to see in English] ᒋᑲ ᑲᓄᐌᔨᑌᓅ ᐊᓐ ᑲ ᓂᔅᑯᒥᓇᓅᒡ ᐊᓐᒌᔥ ᑲᔦᐦ ᓇᐐ ᐊᑐᔥᑐᑦᔐᓈᓐ ᐊᔭᒨᐎᓐ ᐁᐦᐐ ᑲᓄᐌᔨᑕᒧᒃ ᐊᓐ ᑲᔨᔥ ᓇᔅᑯᒧᓈᓅᒡ ᒋᔩᔥ ᐐᑕᒨᒡ ᐊᓐᒌ ᐄᔫᒡ ᑲ ᐄᑕᑕᐗᒡ ᐊᓐᑕ ᐐᒉᐙᑲᓂᒡ᙮

“We have to keep that harmony today… We’re trying to send a message that we need to keep the harmony in place.”

– member of the Friends

No development should go ahead in an area when fundamental environmental and social safeguards are absent. By instituting a temporary moratorium, governments would create space for the proper assessments, FPIC processes, and conservation planning to occur. The precautionary principle in environmental policy dictates that lack of full scientific certainty (for instance, about the hydrogeology of peatlands or the cumulative climate impact of mines) is not a reason to postpone measures to prevent degradation. In line with this, a pause on Ring of Fire activity would prevent irreversible decisions from being made in haste.

Conclusion

The advocacy of the Friends in protecting Treaty 9 lands and waters in the face of proposed Ring of Fire development is a reminder that Treaties are living promises that must guide present and future actions for ‘as long as the sun shines, as long as the river flows, as long as the grass is green and the Anishinaabe are here.’ The Friends’ grassroots efforts show a path forward. Whether a policy maker, industry representative, or member of the public, everyone has a shared responsibility to uphold shared Treaty rights and commitments to be kind, to be honest, and to share.

[Click to see in English] ᐊᓐ ᐐᒉᐙᑲᓂᐦ ᐊᑎᐸᒋᒨᓐ ᐊᐌᐃᔐᑌᐤ ᒉ ᐊᑌᐦᐳᐗᑕᑲᓅᒡ ᐋᒌᔫᓐ: ᒉ ᐐᒋᐦᐊᑲᓅᒡ ᐃᔨᔫ ᐁᐦ ᓈᑭᑌᔨᑖᒃ ᐊᔅᒋᔫ ᑲᔦᐦ ᐊᓐ ᒉ ᐊᑕᒋᔐᔨᑕᒨᐦᐄᐌᑦ ᐊᓂᔫ ᐐᔑᐌᐎᓂᐦ ᐊᔅᒌ ᐆᒡ ᑲᔦᐦ ᒉᒌ ᐊᑦᔥᑌᔨᑕᑲᓄᐐᒡ ᑲᔦᐦ ᒉᒌ ᓅᑲᑕᐦᑲᓄᐎᒡ ᐁᐦ ᓇᓈᑲᒋᔥᑕᑲᓄᐐᒡ ᒋᔅᑕᔅᒋᔫᓂᔫ ᑲᔦᐦ ᓃᐲᔫᐦ ᑲᔦᐦ ᒋᔅᑖᐎᓂᔫ ᐄᔥᒌᔗᐆᒡ ᒉ ᒥᔫ ᑲᓇᐙᐸᑕᒀᒡ ᐊᓐᑌᐦ ᓃᔥᑕᒥᒡ᙮

The Friends of the Attawapiskat River story serves as a call to action: Support Indigenous land protectors, advocate for the Natural Laws and that they be respected, and recognize that protecting lands, water, and communities means safeguarding our collective future.

¹ United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples Act, SC 2021, c 14, s 4(a)

2 See sections 18 – 25 of the regulation commonly known as the ‘Project List,’ Physical Activities Regulations, SOR/2019-285

Moose protection and Anishnabe governance as climate policy | Moz Kipiwa-n Acitcj Anishnabe Onakinagewin Oja Aki

The Anishnabe Moose Committee (AMC) is a grassroots collective of people from several Anishnabe (Algonquin) communities working directly with our communities to protect the moose, land, and culture. The authors of this case study are Shannon, the coordinator of the AMC, and Jaimie, the Land Studies coordinator for the AMC. We are writing this case study as individuals representing perspectives from the AMC and Anishnabe knowledge.

Rooted in traditional governance, AMC prioritizes community-led decision-making, knowledge-sharing, and land-based education. AMC’s work began in response to the alarming decline of moose populations in La Vérendrye Wildlife Reserve. However, Elders emphasized that moose decline is an issue that must be addressed as a nation. These efforts quickly expanded to all Anishnabe communities across the Ottawa River watershed—our traditional territory.

Throughout 2022, we held community workshops in nine Anishnabe communities, gathering insights from Elders, hunters, and land users. This work culminated in a preliminary report released in 2022 (available here). Climate change, forestry, and over-hunting were identified as the main drivers of moose decline in and around La Vérendrye Wildlife Reserve. Community-driven solutions were also proposed to revitalize the moose population. Since then, the AMC has continued working with communities and Elders to follow through on the recommendations that come directly from communities.

[Click to see in English] Wedi ojabigin Moz Anike-Niganiziwog kagi-ojibegawatcj eja nisistimatcj Aki Inakonigewin kija kipwa-nag kina moazag.

This case study provides an overview of policy lessons learned from the AMC’s work and recommendations for advancing climate policy that protects the moose both within and beyond the Ottawa River watershed.

Mozag kijenenimanan, tedago nogom tija nanegadjitog | Moose are our relatives, and they are in trouble

Moose have taken care of Anishnabeg since time immemorial. They have kept us alive, providing healthy food, shelter, mukluks, baby clothes, moccasins, and drums made from the hides. Moose have given us ceremonies, education, stories, and economies. Moose are part of our way of life; they protect and provide for us. They are essential to Anishnabe food sovereignty, sustaining our culture and families for generations. Many of our people still rely on moose as a traditional food source, especially where access to grocery stores is limited.

Aja anawadj te mozag, mi kina awesh ejasewag aki kag. Moose tabendagozi nokamig. Apinamo mitikgon keja nitawgeyasitcj, keja wesinitcj, acitcj onadindan keja mishanig eja mitogog kija tikanaweg. Kina ka-mitikenaniwag, eja anikej matikogoje acitcj aki ana kwetamigog odanimegon kina mozag.

However, moose are declining in Anishnabe territory, as they are elsewhere in Canada¹. Moose are a part of the forest ecosystem; they rely on young forests and aquatic plants for quality food and on mature forests for shelter. They live in colder climates and need large areas to thrive. Industrial forestry pressures, sport hunting, and climate change have placed immense strain on moose populations.

This impacts Anishnabe culture and food sovereignty. Furthermore, Anishnabeg continue to face racism, discrimination, and harassment on our territory from sport hunters and wildlife agents, which restricts our cultural safety with our families.

This is the context in which our work began. Elders and Land users are concerned about the health of the moose population across the territory in La Vérendrye Wildlife Reserve in western Quebec². The moose population in La Vérendrye has never been comprehensively studied, and from our perspective, has not been subject to effective moose management since its inception. Land users and Elders have already noticed the alarming decline in moose population, and even the provincial government’s surveys estimated a sharp decline in the past decade³. Following a second year of grassroots, community-led organizing, a temporary two-year moratorium on sport hunting was obtained in La Vérendrye at the beginning of 2021, with subsequent years being dependent on the result of studies. When it became apparent that no studies were being undertaken by the province in a comprehensive or inclusive way, the AMC was formed to take up this important work for ourselves.

Moz eja kikindagozag ena pagidjishewog | The cause of moose decline

Moose are suffering due to colonialism. Multiple pressures—including sport hunting, industrial logging, unsustainable management practices, and climate change—negatively impact moose in our territory. However, the underlying issue and throughline is the continuation of colonial practices and policies, which undermine Anishnabeg’s ability to steward the land moose depend on, as we have done since time immemorial.

Industrial logging reduces the quality of moose habitat. While initially, the moose return to the cut area to feed, they are more exposed and vulnerable in these open areas. Furthermore, these cutblocks do not provide food for the moose in the long term. Reducing the amount of forest cover also reduces the important shade and cover habitat they need during the hot summer months and impacts the forest’s ability to adapt to climate change. It is unethical, and goes against Anishnabeg knowledge and ethics, to alter moose habitat into small patchworks of forest, removing the space they need to fully thrive.

Moose are also affected by Quebec and Ontario moose management policies, which focus primarily on economic benefits of selling moose tags and outfitting packages, and prioritize sport hunter access, rather than sustaining a healthy population⁴.Ontario sport hunting functions with a lottery system, limiting the number of moose tags sold per year for a given area. Through this mechanism, there is some measure of control on the sport hunting pressure. Quebec sport hunting does not limit the number of tags sold per hunting zone, but instead manages which segment of the moose population (e.g. males, females, or calves) can be taken from a given hunting zone, with the objective of achieving a target moose density for the region.

It is clear that both of these systems are failing. The moose density in La Vérendrye sits below provincial targets for this area. Furthermore, neither system prohibits wasteful practices like discarding parts of the moose, collecting only the head of the bull moose as a trophy, or not retrieving moose that have been shot with a bow and arrow. Unfortunately, as reported in the AMC’s preliminary report, these wasteful and unethical behaviours, which go against Anishnabeg values, are often observed in the Algonquin territory.

Mozag kipiwo eja agwamtamigag eja tikanan acitcj nogom ana kitchi kijidek. Kitchi Ogima kan ogizgamasin adi mozan eja madizinjin. Kan obamidinindisin adi keja minajagin awesisan keja mino-madizinjin.

Moose are anticipated to be even more vulnerable in the context of climate change. Moose need shade in the summer to cool off. The shade habitat that forest cover provides becomes even more critical during the longer and hotter summers predicted as a result of climate change. Provincial forestry policies do not account for the needs of the moose and the larger ecosystem in their forest management plans.

Winter ticks, tiny parasites that latch onto moose, are already present, even more so in cutblocks, and are predicted to increase in a warming climate. These parasites cause discomfort in adult moose, causing them to scratch themselves to the point of losing fur, which keeps them warm in the winter. Young moose are more vulnerable to die from winter ticks than adult moose.

Additionally, as the deer population moves northward under a changing climate, moose will be increasingly exposed to the parasites that deer carry, such as brainworm, which is fatal for moose.

Agonen ke postowig ki-tcimankag? Kan Kitchi-ogima o’wesagindamowin kida tagosonan aji | What do we want to bring with us in our canoe? Solutions cannot perpetuate colonial harm

The solutions that first come to many people’s minds when discussing the decline of the moose population are either 1) creating a better management plan, which is what we initially had set out to do, or 2) creating co-management, where there is collaboration between Indigenous Peoples and colonial governments regarding wildlife management decisions. From our perspective, these options are not real solutions.

First, a wildlife management plan cannot in itself address the imbalance of power that colonial governments impose on our Lands. Second, we cannot enter into collaborative agreements if trust is not established at the root.

As described in detail in the following section, the decline of the moose population is a symptom of broader systemic issues resulting from imposed colonial government control on our Lands. To be effective, solutions would need to address that. As one of AMC’s members, Anida Decoursay, offered, “If we think of someone who must pack their canoe for a voyage to a new place, they cannot fit everything in their canoe; they must be selective in what they choose. As a nation, we must decide how we will pack our canoe for the times of climate change ahead. Do we want to bring a moose management plan, a colonial policy tool, with us on this voyage? Or would we rather bring true systems change and Anishnabe governance revitalization with us?” Our solutions must address the root causes. Colonialism is at the root of the moose decline in our territory, so we must find decolonial solutions and ensure future generations inherit a healthy land.

When the Anishnabe Moose Committee began our community-led research process, we were working with the idea of creating and implementing an Anishnabe Moose Management Plan, which would be shaped by what we heard from communities. The solutions brought forth by communities included better wildlife regulations and enforcement, leadership and education for the next generations, inclusion of Anishnabe laws, Elders gatherings, and whole-nation information sharing and decision-making. Additionally, a longer, five- to 10-year moratorium with a comprehensive study on the moose population is needed. These are elements of traditional governance that are explained in more detail below.

Collaborative management, or co-management, is not an acceptable solution for our people either, because of the ongoing legacy of distrust with provincial wildlife departments that have broken agreements with our nation in the past. Elders have shared with us stories of historical agreements with colonial governments. Again and again, the agreements which we made with them were violated. One recent example of these broken agreements specifically relates to the moose in La Vérendrye Wildlife Reserve, which is now the largest wildlife reserve in Quebec, with over 4,000 lakes and rivers and two huge hydro reservoirs. From the 1950s until the 1970s, La Vérendrye was a protected area. In 1964, the Quebec government began a pilot project. It was agreed with the community of Barriere Lake that this would be a five-year pilot project where they would open up the park for the hunting of moose. They said this would be for only five years. At the time of agreement, they agreed that non-Indigenous hunters would need to have an Anishnabe guide during their hunt. After five years, when the pilot project was supposed to end, Quebec changed its position.

They then said that they meant five years of hunting bulls, followed by five years of hunting females and five years of hunting calves, thereby extending this “pilot project” to a total of 15 years, which was not the agreement the community of Barriere Lake had agreed to in 1964. At this point, Quebec also started to increase tourism, bringing in wealthy Americans to hunt and fish on the territory. They established a presence in La Vérendrye. They established game wardens. During this time, they observed all the pine species, white birch, spruce, and poplar, and saw all the wealth within the park, including moose, foxes, rabbits, bears, partridges, beavers, wolves, walleye, northern pike, lake trout, bass, and sturgeon. By 1979, La Vérendrye became a Réserve Faunique (“Wildlife Reserve”), which removes protections from forestry and hunting. In the early 1980s, Anishnabe guides were used as fishing and hunting guides but that practice was dropped in the early 1990s. The original five-year pilot project agreement was violated. Clearly, Quebec had no intention of honoring that agreement and continuously encroached on La Vérendrye in the following decades without the consent of the Anishnabe people.

This was not the first agreement that was broken. During the time of the fur trade and wars between the English and French colonists, our People began to observe resources becoming depleted, as they began to dig for gold and cut various trees. It became abundantly clear that inherent to the colonial presence was the extraction of our resources and destruction of our lands, waters, and communities.

To address this, an agreement was made and ratified through the Hudson Bay wampum belt. Through this treaty, it was agreed that they would not harvest more than one kind of tree and could not dig more than three feet deep in the ground—as long as the sun shines, the rivers flow, the leaves fall, and the wind blows. That is what the agreement said. We knew such limits would be necessary. But they violated that treaty, generation after generation, time and time again. Government and industry have been voraciously extracting resources from our territories, taking from our communities and lands and harming the moose, and offering very little in return.

Kina Kitchi-ogima eja wejigedj acticj eja nagok aki-ni panama nisitagon adi awa eja minosek kija-wedokwagantcj mozag. Kan kidatagosonon minosodiwin e’ja pagejishiwatcj mozag acitcj keja mino-madizitcj kewin mozag mojag.

The living legacy of colonialism and its ongoing consequences for our territories and our communities must be understood and taken into account when we seek solutions for the declining moose population. If not, we will simply perpetuate the same unbalanced and unjust power dynamics of colonialism.

Mitchogozi odanakonagewin odimbabdon Anishnabe Inindamowin eja kijagabidag Od’aki | Colonial laws and policies disrupt our traditional ways of caring for the Land

In Anishnabe territory, we cared for the land through our family territory system, which allowed us to closely observe and monitor a large territory. Each family would share that knowledge with the rest of the nation during an annual gathering. These yearly gatherings are part of our traditional governance, where the state of the Land was discussed, and any needed changes were made through a consensus process. Colonial government assimilatory and genocidal laws and policies aimed to remove Indigenous Peoples from exercising our sovereign rights on the territory through the implementation of the reservation system, the Indian Act, and residential schools, among others.

The Band Council system is a colonial tool created through the Indian Act that usurps traditional governance systems and replaces them with an ineffective top-down administrative structure. It creates division and conflicts within our communities and is a barrier to making decisions as a nation. Our traditional Indigenous governance is foundational to caring for our territories as sovereign people, but it cannot thrive under current policies that function through the Indian Act governance system and outright ignore our sovereignty.

Industries like mining and forestry work through Indian Act structures to extract natural resources within our territories and drastically alter the quality of the whole landscape. In Ontario and Quebec, provincial ministries do not involve Indigenous nations regarding wildlife management decisions (other than those with modern treaties in northern Quebec).

Colonial laws and policies have disrupted our traditional governance and ways of caring for the Land. They do not honour nation-to-nation relationships, such as they were understood in the original treaties. The strength of our traditional governance is tied to the health of the Land. It is our responsibility as Anishnabeg to fulfill our role as caretakers of our territory.

Aki eja kwikitamigog kina kiga animegomin | Climate change affects us all

At the same time, we must acknowledge that moose populations are declining in other territories as well. In Manitoba there is a serious concern about the state of the moose population, and in Mi’kmaq territory (Cape Breton), there has been a severe moose decline. While we cannot speak to the specific causes of the declines in other territories, it is clear that climate change is a common threat. It must therefore be addressed collaboratively. We must renew respectful nation-to-nation relationships to effectively work through climate change solutions. To do so, we need to return to the sacred treaties that mean the most to First Nations people.

Oshi Nigansodewin kija ojitowig Aki eja Kwiktamigog nogom | Treaty renewal under climate change

The original sacred treaties, such as those created with wampum belts, honour traditional governance. While many of these agreements are ignored or forgotten by colonial governments, they are the only way to begin repairing the relationship and to build respectful nation-to-nation approaches. When these original treaties were made, the sovereignty of Indigenous nations—that is, the recognition of Indigenous rights to self-govern and manage our affairs and territory—was respected. Our responsibilities as caretakers of the Land were embedded within them. Treaties ensured peace: peace for the signatory nations, peace for the territory, peace for the Land and peace for all other-than-human beings.

Original treaties between Indigenous nations and European settlers were made when forests were healthy, moose were abundant, and the climate was stable. Even so, environmental clauses were incorporated into the treaties such as within the Hudson Bay wampum. The current climate crisis creates a new urgency for renewing these original sacred treaties to address our shared responsibilities to address climate change. Returning to the original intent of the treaties now would require us to incorporate specific climate change considerations and the specific industrial activities that contribute to climate change, like forestry and the extraction of non-renewable natural resources. True climate adaptation should guarantee Indigenous decision-making about Land use within our territories under our traditional governance systems.

These treaties were forgotten; the accountability toward the treaties and responsibilities were forgotten because they were not revisited, as they were supposed to have been, every two years. This process of accountability was called “polishing the chain”. If this accountability process is maintained, renewed treaties can hold the promise of reversing climate change.

The ultimate goal of treaty renewal is ensuring that seven generations from now will inherit healthy lands. Restoring traditional governance allows for more space for Indigenous rights, language, culture, and ceremony to flourish on the territory. This will lead to healthier moose populations and better climate solutions for all. If we can achieve peace with each other through renewed treaties, then we will have achieved true reconciliation.

Oshki Nigansodewin nogom ta minsidjiade Anishnabeg odinakinagewin keja mikimatcj Aki-Tcojojonam kija wedokwaganitcj. Tadagon mino ijitigewin kija mamikikadeg aki keja minomadizitcj acitcj kina Wabanog Anishnabeg oda shawindana aki onakinagewin. Anish adi keja majitayag bin?

Renewed treaties would restore Indigenous governance systems that allow for the nation-to-nation relationship that is required to find true climate policy solutions. Furthermore, unity within the Anishnabe (Algonquin) nation and other eastern Indigenous nations would strengthen climate action. We acknowledge that this is no small task. So, how do we get there?

Eshpin kijigabidameg nigansodewin, panama nitim Anishnabe eja kendik aki kida mamwisemagin | The first step toward treaty renewal: A community-led forum for knowledge sharing

The revitalization of treaties needs to be community-led, because it depends on the knowledge holders, where treaty is held by community. Elected leadership and colonial governments need to play a part as well, by providing space to have these discussions. Building and bridging understanding is paramount to start repairing the trust necessary for reconciliation and treaty renewal.

Kija tagog nisistemowin oja kina kabi-ijaweybig aki kag. Kina Wabinog Anishnabeg ta-mamwisewag kija tabajamog megis kikendamowin keja wabidameg ishkwag kaja be inakonigewag Anishnabeg weshkitcj (“Keko masigetcj Kizis, Keko nibish nitagog, Keko nodin eh tanoweg acitjc keko nibi pimidjwog”).

To build a common understanding of historical sacred treaties, we must create a sacred space for discussion and knowledge-sharing. We suggest a large multi-day forum, where the community members and knowledge holders of the eastern Indigenous nations gather. Each nation would have the opportunity to recite the treaties they hold, and the conditions under which they were first made (“as long as the sun shines, the wind blows, the waters flow, and the grass grows…”).

In this context, traditional governance takes up the most space; traditional leadership and governance come from Anishnabeg, it comes from the people, it is not a top-down approach. Elders and knowledge keepers must be given the appropriate recognition and respect regarding the knowledge they have of the environment and history and provide the spiritual guidance that is needed to restore our climate.

Elected leadership and colonial governments can take place as listeners and learners in this space. Giving the space to knowledge holders honours the community-led ways of traditional governance. This mark of respect is owed to communities. This would open dialogue between knowledge holders and elected leadership. It is an opportunity for knowledge holders and community members to voice their concerns, visions, and guidance. We expect that this knowledge sharing would need to take place over three days.

This would ground the gathering in ceremony with an understanding of the original intent of the treaties, which creates a greater awareness of how the environmental and social conditions have changed and must be taken into account in modern times.

Following this first period of knowledge-sharing, community members can decide their own path and follow their own protocols regarding treaty renewal. This also provides an opportunity for the elected leadership to be accountable to the wishes of their people. Together, each nation can build their own recommendations and solutions for treaty renewal under climate change. This forum is a first step, an opening, that allows us to build understanding before deciding on the next steps.

Crown governments can get involved in this process by facilitating the funding for this forum, attending and listening, and supporting the community-led treaty research and discussions that will take place before and after the forum. Community-based treaty research allows for communities to discuss treaties within their own nations before entering into discussions with others. In-community discussions will follow the forum, and it will be important to support that momentum and be accountable to each other and the knowledge learned during the forum.

Conclusion

This work started when Elders and Land users warned us about the moose decline. Protecting the moose led us to the bigger questions about how we all care for the land. Moose are our relatives that have taken care of us since time immemorial. Their decline is a warning that we must return to balance.

Treaty renewal must be transparent and inclusive. This means that everyone should have a voice, especially the people who live closest to the Land and see what’s really happening. We need to listen to the grassroots, to the ones who feel the changes in the water, the air, and the animals. We need to talk about responsibility to protect the land, the water, the animals, and each other.

Our communities have always known how to live in balance with the land. We carry that knowledge in our stories, in our ceremonies, and even in our dreams. The systems that hurt the land also hurt our communities. Logging, mining, and dams might create money, but they also destroy the homes of the animals and the health of our waters. These are not peaceful ways.

There is no peace in extraction, no peace in deforestation. These acts harm the animals and the people who have always lived in relation with them.

We know that energy and building homes are necessary, but we also know that change is needed. We must be willing to leave behind destructive ways and choose a new path that respects the Earth.

As Anishnabeg, we’ve faced colonization, language loss, and residential schools. These things disconnected us from who we are. But we’re still here. And we still carry the knowledge we need to rebuild. That’s what treaty is really about: returning to who we are, returning to our laws, our clan systems, our creation stories, and our responsibilities. Treaty is about restoring peace: peace for the land, peace for animals, and peace for our people. What we do now will shape what’s left for the next generations. We must choose wisely.

1 E.g. Manitoba and Cape Breton.

² Anishnabe Moose Committee. November 2022. Anishnabe knowledge and governance for the protection of the moose populations in and around La Verendrye Park. Preliminary report from the Anishnabe Moose studies.

³ Inventaire aérien de l’orignal de la réserve faunique La Vérendrye réalisé à l’hiver 2020 Résumé des résultats. https://mffp.gouv.qc.ca/documents/faune/RA_inventaire_orignal_RFLV_hiver_2020.pdf

⁴ Honour’s thesis report led by Ken Downe. https://anishnabeanikiwin.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/amc-newsletter-november-2024-2.pdf

Navigating climate change in the Indigenous economic ecosystem | Kwukwun’utstuhw ‘uw ‘eeye’qtum ‘u thu kw’atl’kwu ni’ ‘u thu hwulmuhw telu’stuhw tumuhw

Overview

The intricate web of commercial fishing, climate change, and Indigenous cultural practices demands a contextual understanding. Recognizing how these elements influence one another is critical to fostering sustainability. The fishing industry’s impact, including overfishing, highlights the urgent need for integrated management approaches.

Ni’ tsetsul’ulhtun ‘uw’ ‘eeye’qtun ‘u’ tthu kwa’atl’kwa, sis uw hwulmuhw snuw’uy’ulh T’a’thut ‘un’ tl’leem’ ‘u ‘un stl’i’ ‘u statul’stuhw. Tspit tthu eeye’qtum tumuhw, eeye’qtum sul’utul’sht’e ‘un stl’i’ huli’stuhw. Tthu tsetsul’ulhtun, hun’utum industry, nan ‘uw tsesul’ulhtun. Tspit ‘un stl’i ‘u’ tu thi’maat shqwaluwun tetsul.

The failure to address these interconnected challenges holistically can lead to the collapse of vital fish stocks and the degradation of cultural and ecological landscapes. The stakes are high, with entire ecosystems and ways of life at risk, demonstrating the necessity of comprehensive and collaborative solutions.

ni’ ‘uwu kwus sul’ul’thuts, ‘ithatul’stuhw shqwaluwuns, ‘i’ nem’ yixw ‘u thithat stseelhtunhwu’alum’sis ‘uw ‘uwu stsi’elh hwulmuhw ‘i tumuhw. ‘i sielh’stuhw ‘i hwtl’i kws mukw tumuhw, mukw’ulup wawa’ stl’eluqun kws hulit, le’lum’stamshnustl’i’ ‘u q’ishintul’ shqwaluwun.

By tackling climate change, industry practices, and environmental sustainability together, there is a significant opportunity to restore and enhance marine biodiversity, strengthen Indigenous economies, and maintain cultural practices. This holistic approach, which reflects the foundational Nuu-chah-nulth concept of Tsawalk (meaning “one”), can lead to more resilient communities and ecosystems.

thuyt thu tumuhw, thuyt thu hunutum industry paractices, kwutst ts’i’ts’uwatul shqwaluwun ‘i q’ushintul thuyt thu tumuhw, ni’ thithat kw’in ‘u thuyt thuw’mukw kwatl’kwa, kw’am kw’umstuhw, thu hwulmuhw hunutum economies and hakwushus snuw’uyulh. Thuw’ mukw’ nem’, lumstuhw ‘u snuw’uy’ulh ‘u thu Nuu-chah-nulth snuw’uy’ulh 9meaning ts’i’ts’uwatul), nem’kw’amkw’um thuw’mukw’ ‘i thu tumuhw.

Achieving this requires a united front driven by Indigenous leaders, bringing together governments, environmental organizations, and the fishing industry to develop and implement strategies that address the full spectrum of challenges. This includes reforming fishing regulations to prevent overfishing, supporting Indigenous-led conservation projects, and promoting practices that reduce the environmental impact of fishing operations. By collectively championing sustainable practices that consider the intricate connections between climate change, cultural heritage, and commercial fishing, we can secure climate-resilient fisheries for future generations.

‘uy’eey’ ‘u nu’stli’ ts’i’ts’uwatul shqwaluwun ‘imushstuhw ‘u tthu shusi’eem, ‘e’muqth kwun’atul hun’utum governments, hun’utum governments, ‘i hun’utum fishing industry ‘u ‘eey’ ‘uy shqwuluwun ‘i thi’mawt thuytum tthu tumuhw. Ni’ ‘eeye’qtum’ ‘u tsrtsul’ulhtun snuw’uy’ulh ‘u ‘unuhw thuw mukw tsetsul’ulhtun, ‘i hwulmuhw thuytum, ‘i snuw’uy’ulh ‘u kwu’elh xwul ‘u qul’ shqwaluwun ‘u tsetsul’ulhtun’ew’t. Ni’ ‘a’luxut ‘eey’ ‘uy shqwaluwun snuw’uy’ulh tuni’ hwqwel’qwul’i’wun ‘u ‘i’thatul’stuw tumuhw ‘eeye’qtum’, ‘u tthu shtun’ni’iws snuw’uy’ulh ‘u tthu tsetsul’ulhtun’ew’t, tst thuyt ‘u tl’uxw ‘u tthutsetsul’ulhtun’ew’t ni’ ‘u tthu yu’e’wu shhw’a’luqw’a.

The following case study focused on the opportunities and challenges facing Quw’utsun Kw’atl’kwa Enterprises (QKE), a leading commercial fishing business owned and operated by the Cowichan Tribes and situated in Cowichan, B.C., highlights adaptive strategies and offers recommendations for ways to achieve this goal.

Ni’ hwtetulum’ qe’is snuw’uy’ulh ‘u tthu qe’is tl’uxw shul’e’shlh yunu’as Quw’utsun Kw’atl’kwa Enterprises (QKE), ‘u shhwuhwi’wuqun ‘u tthu tsetsul’ulhtun’ew’t hakwush thun Cowichan Tribes ‘i ‘e’ut Cowichan B.C., lumstalu qe’is snuw’uy’ulh ‘i ‘aalhtum qwul’qwul sht’e ‘u thuyt thu tumuhw.

Introducing Quw’utsun Kw’atl’kwa Enterprises

Quw’utsun Kw’atl’kwa Enterprises is a leading commercial fishing business owned and operated by the Cowichan Tribes, situated in Cowichan, B.C. The name Cowichan is the anglicized version of shkewetsen, meaning “basking in the sun”. Elder Abel Joe explains how the name came from people seeing a frog basking in the sun on Mount Tzouhalem (Joe, 1977). The territories of the Cowichan Tribes include 2,389 hectares (5,903 acres) across nine reserves and seven traditional villages: Quamichan (Kwa’mutsun), Comiaken (Qaumi Yiqun), Koksilah (Ulaelu), Somena (S’amuna’), Clemclemaluts (Lhumlhumuluts’), Khenipsen (Xin Ipsum), and Cowichan Bay (L’ul Plus) (Cowichan Tribes, 2021). QKE is integral to both the economic and cultural fabric of these communities.

Quw’utsun Kw’atl’kwa Enterprises ni’ ‘u shhwuhwi’wuqun ‘u tthu tsetsul’ulhtunew’t swe’s ‘i nem’ hakwush ‘u Cowichan Tribes, ni’ut Cowichan B.C. ‘u thu sne’ Cowichan ni’ ‘u shwulinitum’a’lh nu’ sne’ ‘u shquw’utsun, nilh “basking in the sun”. Sul’xween Abel Joe qwul’ sht’e ‘u Sne’ tun’untsu hwulmuhw lemut ‘u tthu wuxus shquw’utsun ‘u thu Mount Tzouhalem (Joe, 1977) Tun’ ni’ tsun ‘utl’ Cowichan Tribes sis hun’utum 2,389 hetares (5,903) ni’ untsu toohw tumuhw ‘i tth’a’kwus hwulmuhw tumuhw: Kwa’mutsun, Qwum’yiqun, Xwulqw’selu, S’amunu, Lhumlhumuluts’, Xinupsum, ‘i Tl’ulpalus (Cowichan Tribes, 2021). QKE ‘u thi’mawt ‘u yuse’lu telu ‘i hwulmuhw snuw’uy’ulh ‘u tthu tumuhw.

The Cowichan River has been a lifeline for the Cowichan and neighbouring Salish peoples throughout millennia, serving as a cornerstone of their diet, economy, and social ceremonies. The river’s fisheries, historically managed through intricate weir systems, were not merely harvesting mechanisms but vital conservation tools, ensuring the sustainability of salmon populations for future generations. The remarkable productivity of these weirs sustained extensive trading networks across the Salish territories, illustrating a sophisticated ecological stewardship that has endured through time (Atlas et al., 2021).

Tu Quw’utsun sta’luw’ ‘uw’ nilh ‘u hulitham’sh ‘ tthu Quw’utsun ‘i hwulmuhw mustmuhw tsi’tsulhuqwt ‘u ‘apun nets’uwuwuts sil’anum, tl’liim’ ‘u ‘uy ‘ulhtun, qtulstuhw ‘i ‘aw’kw’ul’muhw. Tthu sta’luw’ tsetsul’ulhtun, yathulh yaays ‘u thu shxetl’, ‘uwu’ kwus ‘a’luxut yaays ‘i’ skeyxutssum nustl’i’ ‘u thuyt thu tumuhw ‘i stseelhtun ‘e’muqt ‘i’ yuluw’en shhw’a’luqw’a’. Tu qux kwunnuhw ‘u thu shxetl’ yath ‘u thi ‘uya’qtul mukw stem u thu hwulmuhw mustimuhw tumuhw, lumstuhw snuw’uy’ulh ‘u tu lemut ‘u tthu tumuhw mukw stem ‘u thu shtun’ni’’iws. (Atlas et al. 2021)

Today, as QKE confronts the compounding pressures of climate change and commercial harvest, it navigates a landscape marked by environmental and economic challenges threatening these traditional practices. The principle of two-eyed seeing (Bartlett et al., 2012, p. 335), advocated by Mi’kmaq Elder Albert Marshall, guides the enterprise as it integrates Indigenous ways of knowing with Western scientific knowledge. This adaptive strategy seeks to balance environmental sustainability with economic growth, exploring innovative solutions such as aquaculture, eco-tourism, and renewable energy to address the depletion of fish stocks and shifting ecological conditions.

uyqtul ‘u tl’uxw yaays ‘u tsetsul’ulhtun ‘u thu ‘eeye’qtum kw’atl’kwu ‘i hunutum commercial Harvest, ‘u kwunnuhw thu tumuhw sxuxil’ ‘u ‘eeye’tum’ tsetsul’ulhtun ‘i ‘aaya’qtul’stuhw, qul shkwaluwun ‘u hwulmuhw t’a’thut. Tu thu’it ‘u yuse’lu qulum le’lum’nuhw (bartlett et al., 2012, p. 335) sqwi’qwul ‘u Mi’kmaq sul’hween Albert Marshal, lumnuhw ‘u ‘aya’qtul hikwut hwulmuhw hwqwel’qwul’i’wun swe’ ‘u thu hwulmuhw snu’uy’ulh. Kw’i ‘eeye’qtum snuw’uy’ulh lemut tu thu’it thu thu’it thuyt thu tumuhw ‘ehwe’t ‘uya’qtul thithat, lum’stuhw qe’yes snuw’uy’ulh tuni’ ‘u tu hunutum aquaculture, eco-tourism, ‘i renewable energy ‘u hwu’uhwin stselhtun ‘e’muqt ‘i ‘eeye’qtum kw’atl’kwu.

Quw’utsun Mustimuhw

The Quw’utsun Mustimuhw, historically and today, occupy a significant area on Vancouver Island. Their traditional territory, rich in cultural and ecological resources, extends more than 375,000 hectares across a substantial portion of southeastern Vancouver Island and the Fraser River, as noted in Figure 1, encompassing key areas along the Cowichan River and Cowichan Bay (Cowichan Tribes, 2021). The Cowichan people travelled extensively throughout their territories.

tthu quw’utsun mustimuhw, ni’wulh hith ‘i kweyul, tun ni’ tsun utl’ huy ‘u Vancouver Island. Ni’ thu tumuhws, thi’ mawt shqwaluwun ‘i qtul’stuw, tetsul. ‘utl’ huy ‘u hunutum 375,000 hectares ‘u huy ‘utl’ tl’itl’up s’i’a’lum’iw’s Vancouver Island ‘i ‘u Fraser sta’luw, lum’nuhw ‘u figure 1, sel’ts’t ‘u thithat ‘uw tsetsuw’ tthu Cowichan sta’luw ‘i tlul’pulus (Cowichan Tribes, 2021) Tumuhws.

Before contact with European settlers, the population of the Quw’utsun Mustimuhw is estimated to have been 15,000 members strong (Cowichan Tribes, 2021), reflecting the abundance of resources in the region. This sizable population highlights the historical importance of natural resources, particularly salmon, which to this day are driving West Coast Indigenous sustenance and social structure.

yuluwen ‘u wi’wul ‘u tthu hwulinitum mustimuhw, skw;she’lu ‘u tthu quw’utsun mustimuhw ‘u wa’lu wulh 15,000 tl’uxw thu mustimuhw (Cowichan Tribes, 2021), lumstuhw ‘u qux ‘u thu sulh’tun ‘u thu tumuhw. Tu’i qux mustimuhw lumstuhw ‘u thi’ mawt thithat ‘u thu sulhtun, hut mukw stem hwu si’em stseelhtun, ‘u hwun tl’ulumthut West Coast hwulmuhw sulhtun ‘i hakwush snuw’uy’ulh.

The entire local watershed, with its myriad sacred sites and rich tapestry of cultural narratives, is a critical area for the Quw’utsun Mustimuhw. It is a spiritual stronghold and a vital resource for fishing, plant harvesting, and hunting. The southern slopes of Hwsalu-utsum are noted for their rare grasslands, home to plants that hold significant spiritual and practical importance for the community. The watershed serves the community as a keeper of ancient stories and provider of essential natural resources.

Thuw mukw kw’atl’kwu, sta’luw, ‘i xatsa’, qa’ ‘u xe’xe’ tumuhw ‘i ts’usts’ustin ‘u snu’uy’ulh, thithut sqwaluwun ‘u thu quw’utsun mustimuhw. Kwus thithat sqaluwun snuw’uy’ulh ‘u thu tsetsul’ulhtun, hwseenhwt, ‘i ‘a’luxut. Tu tl’itl’up t’ahw ‘u Hwasalu-utsum xul’ut ‘u thu saxul tumuhw, stl’ulnup ‘u squqwule’’u thithat ‘u s-a’lhs-stuhw’i nustli’ importance thithat ‘u thu nuts’a’wuqw. Tu kw’atl’kwa, sta’luw ‘i xatsa’ ts’ewut thu nuts’a’wuqw ‘u ‘u kwun ‘u wulh hilh sxwiem ‘i ‘aalhstuhw ‘u thithat thu sulhtun.

Today, the Cowichan Tribes, as they are formally recognized, have a much smaller population, comprising 5,500 members (Cowichan Tribes, 2024). Their current reserve lands cover about 2,400 hectares, a fraction of their vast traditional territory (Cowichan Tribes, 2018). This land, although limited in comparison to their expansive historical territories, supports not only residential areas but also communal and cultural facilities. This reflects the community’s resilience in maintaining and nurturing its cultural heritage and practices, despite the constraints imposed by colonialism and government policies that have significantly reduced its traditional lands.

Skweyul, tu Cowihan Tribes, ‘u thu sne’ putnuhw, swe’ ‘u ‘uwiin’ul Kw’ushuleem’ wa’lu 5500 mustimuhw. (Cowichan Tribes, 2024). Kws swe’ ‘u tthuu tumuhws Sul’ixw wa’la 2400 hectares, ‘u ‘uhwiin’ kw’ush ‘u quw’utsun ‘u hwulmuhw mustimuhw thi’ tumuhw (Cowichan Tribes, 2018). Tu tumuhw, wa’lu uhwiin’ul ‘u tumuhw ‘u tu shtun’ni’iws tumuhw ‘u tthu quwutsun mustimuhw, tse’wulhtun ‘u tu s-hwun’ts’awqw tumuhw ‘u tu nuts’a’waqwewt. Tun’a lumstuhw ‘u s-hwun’ts’awqws ‘u kw’amkw’umstuhw ‘i lumstuhw ‘u thu hwulmuhw snuw’uy’ulh, ‘u st’e’uw niis sq’equp ‘u sthuthax ‘u hunutum colonialism ‘i government policies ‘u ‘uhwiin’ulstuhw ‘u quw’utsun tumuhw.

The economic and social life of the Cowichan and other Coast Salish peoples has historically centred around the lifecycle of salmon, particularly those spawning in the Cowichan River and its tributaries. Coho, Chinook, and Chum salmon serve not only as vital food sources but also as key economic commodities, facilitating sophisticated socio-economic exchanges with neighbouring tribes. The river, described by Harold Joe as the “provider of life and sustenance,” is integral to these communities, as emphasized by the First Salmon Ceremony, which marks the spiritual and communal significance of the salmon’s lifecycle. This ceremony, during which salmon are treated with deep respect and positioned to guide subsequent runs, emphasizes the Salish belief in the sacredness of salmon. These practices ensure the continuance of the salmon cycles, linking riverine health directly to the viability of commercial fishing. As these salmon return to the ocean, they mark the beginning of sustainable commercial fishing ventures, illustrating the critical interdependence of river habitats and the broader fishing industry.

tu tela’stuhw ‘i s-hwun’ts’awuqw ‘u tthu quwutsun ‘i mukw hwulmuhw mustimuhw wulh Wulh hith ‘u thithat ‘u thu stseelhtun hwualum, tthuw’ ‘u thu xil’a’ts stseelhtun ‘u thu Quw’utsun sta’luw ‘i ‘u ‘i’la’th. The’wun, stth’aqwi’, ‘i kw’a’luhw ‘u thu stseelhtun thithat ‘ulhtunstuhw thithat wulh telu’swtuhw, thuyt, thuytum kw’am kw’umstuhw syaays ni’ ‘u ‘uya’qtul ‘i ‘uya’qtulstuhw ‘u tthu ‘aw’kw’ulmuhw. Thu sta’luw hiiy’ut ‘u tthu Harold Joe ‘u tu hulitun ‘i sulhtun, ‘u thithat ‘u thu s-hwun’ts’awuqw, ‘i lemutstuhw ‘u thu hwun’a stseeltun hwunuwust, kw’u’i nem’ ‘u nilh s’uylus ‘u tthu nuts’a’wuqw ‘u thithat thu stseelhtun ‘e’muqt. Tu syaays, ‘untsu ‘u thu stseelhtun sus ‘uw he’letus ‘u stsi’elh stuhw ‘i snuw’uy’ulh ‘u tu ‘e’qmuqt, thithat ‘u hwulmuhw snu’uy’ulh ‘u thu xe’xe’ stseelhtun. Tu’inulh thuytum ‘u tthu mukw lhwet ‘u thu stseelhtun ‘e’muqt, ‘u xe’xe ‘u hulitun wi’wul ‘u thu snuy’uy’uljh ‘u stseelhtunew’t. ‘U tu’inulh ‘uw stseelhtun ‘e’muqt ‘u thu kw’atl’kwa, ‘eelhtun hwnuwust ‘u thu stseeltunewt yaays, lemutstuhw ‘u thithat nu’stli’ ‘u thu ‘u thu sta’luw s-hwun’ts’awuqw sus ‘u ‘a’luxut Stseelhtunewt.

Quw’utsun Kw’atl’kwa Enterprises: Facing critical crossroads

QKE, operational since the 1990s, has recently evolved into a more autonomous entity. In 2019, it formalized as a limited partnership, with Cowichan Tribes as the sole shareholder. This structure allows QKE to benefit from the limited liability protection for its investors, which can encourage investment and growth, while ensuring that the Cowichan Tribes retain significant control over business decisions and operations. This setup offers a balance of operational control, financial security, and taxation benefits, making it particularly suitable for ventures involving significant community interests and cultural alignment. This transition marked a significant milestone, which included QKE establishing its own board of directors and reinforcing its operational capabilities. With this newfound independence, QKE has secured a dedicated crew and maintains two boats permanently stationed in Cowichan Bay(QKE, 2021).

QKE, ‘u thu hwun’a’ sil’anum ‘u 1990s, ‘u qe’is sus ‘uw ‘iye’qtum kw’um kw’umul. ‘u 2019, kwus ‘u hunutum limitedn partnership swe’ ‘u tthu Cowichan Tribes. Tu thuyt ‘aant QKE ‘u ‘aluxut tu’i hunitum limited protection ‘u tthu hunitum investors, ‘u tle’ Q’pels ‘u ‘uy qwulstuhw ‘u thu telu, sisuw’ ‘u tthu Cowichan Tribes sul’utul’ tsulel mukw hakwush ‘u tu snuw’uy’ulh ‘u thu stseelhtunewt. Tu’inulh ‘u hukwush ‘u hwnuwust hukwush, telu’stuhw, sus ‘u hunutum taxation benefits, thuytum ‘u nem’ hakwush ‘u thu snuw’uy’ulh thithat ‘u tthu s-hwun’ts’awuqw ‘u tu hwnuwuststuw. Kw’i ‘iyeqt sxuxits ‘u thithat xutsa’th, tu’untsu lhikw QKE thuytum ‘u tthu hunitum board of directors sus ‘uw kw’a,kw’um yaays hawkwushus. Kwus tthuw’ ta’lut ‘aluxutus yaays, QKE wulh ‘a’luxut ‘u hwkw’amkwum sus ‘u lum’stuhw ‘u thu ye’selu snuwulh ‘u q’p’un’um ‘u thu tl’ulpalus (QKE, 2021).

QKE holds commercial licences for a diverse range of seafood. The licences are crucial for commercial operations and supporting the Cowichan Tribes’ spiritual connections to the water and ceremonial fishing practices. By managing licences and quotas, QKE plays a pivotal role in preserving the employment and maritime heritage of the Cowichan Tribes while acting as the guardian of economic sustainability and cultural continuity.

QKE swe’ ‘u thu hunitum commercial liicences ‘u qux ‘u kw’atl’kw’a sulhtun, ‘u thithat‘u thu hunitum licence ‘u thithat tu stseelhtunewt yaays sis ‘u ts’ets’uwut ‘u tthu Cowichan Tribes’ nilh s’uylus ‘u tu qa’ sus xe’xe syaays kw’akw’i’ukw. Hawkwushus tu hunitum licences ‘ikwunnuhw, QKE siemstuhw ni’ ‘u hulithut ‘u thu syaays sus ‘uw kw’atl’kw’u’ hwnwust ‘u snuw’uy ‘ulh ‘u thu Cowichan Tribes sus ‘uw sht’e ‘u ‘al’mutst ‘u ‘aya’qtul yaays ‘i s-hwun’ts’awuqw.

Despite having established a strong operational framework, QKE faces mounting challenges from changing environmental conditions and regulatory restrictions. The Pacific Salmon Foundation’s (2024) State of Salmon report indicates significant ecological pressures. While Chinook in the Vancouver Island and Mainland Inlets region are above the long-term average, with record numbers returning to the Cowichan River, other species such as chum and steelhead are well below average. Specifically, chum spawner abundance has reached lows not seen since the 1960s. This decline is attributed to higher water temperatures, increased flooding, and more frequent droughts, which disrupt salmon lifecycle and habitat. Such conditions necessitate adaptive strategies in QKE’s fishing practices to ensure sustainability and support the resilience of local salmon populations amidst these environmental shifts.

Shte’ ‘uw swe’ ‘u kw’am kw’um ‘u kw’am kw’um snuw’uy’ulh, Q KE na’us thithat tqet ‘untsu ‘u ‘eeye’qtum ‘u quw’uthut kw’atl’kwa’ ‘i hwnuwust. Tu hunitum Pacific Salmon Foundation’s (2024) State of Salmon qwul ‘u lemutstuhw thi’ ‘eeye’qtumstuhw. Shte’ ‘u stth’aqwi’ ni’ ‘u thu hunitum Vnacouver Island and Mainland regions ‘i hith ‘e’muqt, sus ‘uw mukw kwin ‘e’muqt ‘u thu quwutsun sta’luw, nets stseelhtun sisuw kw’a’luhw ‘i sxuw’q’um ‘uwu te’ mukw ‘emuqt. ‘uwu te’ mukw ‘u thu pupun’um kw’a’luhw ‘uwu lemut tun’i tthu 1960s. Tu ‘uwu mukw tun’i ‘u tl’hwum qa’, qux tu’ lhul’qum, ‘i qxelh ‘uwu te’ lhumuhw, kw’i ‘u thu stseelhtun hulithut ‘i ‘uwu t’at’ukw’. tu’nilh ‘u stitum’’u qxelh ‘uw nu’stl’i ‘eeye’qt wsnuw’uy’ulh ‘u thu QKE’s kw’ikw’iyukw ‘u thu‘emuqt. sus ‘uw thuyt ‘u kw’istuhw ‘u thu s-hwun’ts’uwuqw stseelhtun ‘emuqt tu’nilh ‘u thu kw’atl’kwu ‘eeye’qtum’

Despite the crew’s efficiency and the strategic management of fishing activities, the fish stocks are not what they once were. Particularly, salmon fishing, an economic and cultural staple for the Cowichan Tribes, has been heavily restricted by Fisheries and Oceans Canada (DFO) regulations, prohibiting or restricting commercial fishing to preserve dwindling stocks (DFO, 2024, DFO 2024b, DFO 2024c). Additionally, while shrimp catches have remained consistent, they are insufficient to sustain the enterprise’s financial viability alone. The situation is such that, without the support of grants from the DFO (DFO, 2024d), QKE would likely face financial difficulties, if not insolvency, due to the depleting fish stocks. This precarious balance reveals a broader environmental crisis impacting traditional fishing practices and the economic stability of Indigenous commercial fishing enterprises.

Tu hunitun ‘u crew’s kw’am kw’um kw’ikw’utiyukw snuw’uy’ulh ‘u tu kw’ikw’utiyukwstuhw, ‘uwu te’ mukw ‘emuqt ‘u thu stseelhtun. Thuw mukw, s-hwun’ts’uwuqw, uw aya’qtul sus ‘u thithut ‘u xe’xe yaays ‘u tthu Cowichan Tribes, ‘u wulh ‘u tl’ux hwnuwust ni’ hunitum Fisheries and Oceans Canada (DFO) hwnuwust, ‘unuhwstuhw ‘i’ tl’itl’up ‘u thu kw’ikw’utiyukw ‘uw ‘uwu te’ mukw ‘emuqt (DFO, 2024, DFO 2024b, DFO 2024c). Sis uw, kwukwun’ut ‘u thu hunitum shrimp Kwu’elh ‘uy kwiin, kwu’elh ‘uw ‘uwu te’ ‘i tl’umtl’umkw’t ‘i ‘u thu qux telu’i hin’anuts’a’. Tu tl’ux ‘u yaays, ‘uwu te’telu’ ‘u thu hunitum grants from DFO(DFO,2024d), QKE ni’ wa’lu ‘asum ‘u ‘uwu te’ thu telu’, ‘u ‘uwu wulh puqw, shus ‘u ‘uwu te’ mukw stseelhtun. Tu’nilh stl’eluqun ‘u puy’puy’um lumstuhw ‘u thi’ kw’atl’kwa’ ‘eeye’qtum thu hwulmuw kw’akw’iyukw, yaays sus ‘u tele’stuhw ‘u thu hunitum Indigenous commercial fishing enterprises.

With these realities, QKE is compelled to explore new avenues for sustainability that align with its traditional values and deep-rooted connection to the sea. This necessity drives a strategic pivot towards innovative approaches that could supplement traditional fishing methods, ensuring the enterprise’s resilience. As we consider these dynamics, it becomes clear that anthropogenic change and its impact on marine ecosystems plays a critical role in shaping the future of QKE. The enterprise is now at a crossroads, looking to integrate sustainable practices with economic activities to maintain profitable continuity and community well-being in the face of declining catches.

Kw’i thu’thu’it, QKE ‘u nu’stl’i ‘u lemut thu shelh ni’ ‘u hulithut tu’nilh tselqun ‘u thu hwulmuhw hwnuwust sus ‘u kw’am kwum ‘u nuts’ul ‘u thu kw’atl’kw’a. Tu’nilh nu’stl’i ‘imushstuhw ‘u shqwaluwun ‘eeye’qtum ‘u qe’is ‘ewunus tu’untsa ‘u ‘i kw’ikw’uti’yukw snuw’uy’ulh, kw’am kw’umstuhw tu stseelhtunewt. Kwsustst hwqwel’qwul’i’wun ‘u ‘eeye’qtum, kwus ‘u sni’nuw ‘eeye’qtum ‘u thu tumuhw ‘i ‘eeye’qtum ‘u thu kw’atl’kwa’ ‘u thithut ‘u thuytum ‘u ‘e’wu ‘u thu QKE. Kwu stseelhtunewt ‘i’ hwthtiwun, lemut ‘u qe’is thu’it hwnuwust snuw’uy’ulh kwus telustuhw ‘u thuytum telustuhw ‘u thu telustuhw ‘i Hulithut ‘u thu s’hwun’ts’awuqw ‘u ‘asum ‘uwu te’ mukw ‘uw q’ep’

Theoretical framework

The theoretical landscape of our case study is predicated on the principle of Tsawalk, a foundational concept from the Nuu-chah-nulth philosophy that recognizes the interconnectedness of everything (Atleo, 2007). Tsawalk, which translates to “one,” embodies the holistic interconnectedness of all elements of life: environmental, cultural, and economic. This Indigenous worldview asserts that no component of life operates in isolation, that each part is a thread in the broader fabric of the ecosystem. In practice, this principle dictates that sustainable development cannot merely focus on economic gains but must harmonize these with environmental stewardship and cultural integrity (Nuna et al., 2021).

Kwthey’’u hwqwel’qwul’i’wun nuts’a yaays ‘uw hiiy’ut ‘u thu snuw’uy’ulh ‘u thu Tsawalk, ‘u thithat shqwaluwun’ ni’ulh ‘u Nuu-chah-nulth snuw’uy’ulh tuni’ lumnuhw ‘u mukw’ stem hwu sp’ulay’tul ‘u mukw’ stem (Atleo, 2007). Tsawalk, tu’untsu ‘uw shhw’iint ‘u “nuts’a” kwus ‘uw ts’i’ts’uwatul shqwaluwun ‘u thu tumuhw: tumuhw, snuw’uy’ulh, ‘i telu’stuhw. Tu’nilh Hwulmuhw tumuhwstuhw sus ‘uw sthuthex ‘u tuni’ ‘uwu te’ ‘u yaays ‘uw hin’anuts’a’, Tuni’ ‘u mukw’ stem ‘u tu’untsa ‘uw hwu sp’ulay’tul ‘u thu tumuhw. Tu yaays, tun’a hwnuwust yaays ‘u ‘uy shqwaluwun ‘u thu syaays, ‘uwu te’ ‘u tu tele’stuhw nu’stli’ yuhw Hwqwel’qwul’i’wun ‘u tumuhw yaays sus ‘u hwulmuhw hwnuwust (Nuna et al., 2021)

Tsawalk recognizes the traditional role Indigenous people play in maintaining balance and harmony. These efforts are not merely about harnessing natural resources but reasserting control over traditional lands and ways of life disrupted by centuries of colonial policies (Murphy et al., 2023). A significant example of this disruption is the colonial ban on traditional fishing weirs, which were crucial to Indigenous resource management. According to Dale and Natcher (2015), these bans significantly undermined traditional fishing practices, and recent efforts to reintroduce these Indigenous fishing technologies in British Columbia mark a critical step towards reclaiming traditional ecological knowledge.

Tsawalk lumstuhw ‘uw hwnuwuststuhw ‘u tthu hwulmuhw mustimuhw ‘uwts’i ts’uwatul shqwaluwun. Kw’i timuthut ‘uwu te’ ‘uw’ ‘a’luxut ‘u tu mukw stem ‘u swe’ hakwush ‘u thu s-hwunits’awuqw sus ‘u snuw’uy’ulh ‘u ‘eeye’qtum ‘u qux sil’anum ‘u thu hwulinitum hwnuwust (Murphy et al., 2023). ‘u thi’maat ‘eeye’qtum ‘u tu hwulinitum ‘u ‘unuhw ‘u thu hwulmuhw tsetsul’ulhtun shxetl’’u tu’untsa ulh thithat ‘u hwulmuhw ulhtunstuhw. Qwal ‘u Dale ‘i’ Natcher (2015), tu’nilh ‘unuhw’ ‘uw thi ‘eeyeqtum hwulmuhw tsetsul’ulhtun snuw’uy’ulh, sus qe’is ‘uw timuthut ‘u thuyt kw’i ‘u tthu hwulmuhw tsetsul’ulhtun shkwey’xutssum’ ‘u British Columbia lemut ‘u thithat nem’ takw ‘u thuytum thu hwulmuhw tumuhw snuw’uy’ulh.

This interconnected approach of Tsawalk is crucial for understanding the multiple pressures facing QKE, including climate change, industrial impacts, sport fishing, pollution, and overfishing. Each of these factors does not exist in a vacuum but interacts dynamically with others, influencing the health of the marine ecosystems and, consequently, the cultural and economic well-being of the Cowichan Tribes.

Tu’nilh ‘u kwun’utul snuw’uy’ulh ‘u Tsawalk ‘u thithat ‘uw shtatul’stuhw ‘u qux tl’ux yaays ‘asum QKE, hunitum climate change, industrial impacts, sport fishing, pollution, and overfishing. Tun’untsa ‘eeye’qtum ‘uwu te’ hulithut ‘u hunitum vacuum ‘u hulithut kw’i yu xut’utul’, ‘eeye’qtum ‘u mukw’ stem ‘u thu kw’atl’kwa sus ‘uw ‘eeye’qtum, ‘u hwnuwust sus ‘uw tele’stuhw ‘u tthu Cowichan Tribes.

In conclusion, employing Tsawalk as a theoretical framework not only guides our understanding of the operations at QKE but also sets a precedent for addressing complex environmental and economic challenges in a holistic manner. Specifically, Tsawalk informs the development of effective climate change adaptation strategies for QKE, emphasizing an integrated approach that combines ecological sustainability, economic viability, and social equity. This approach ensures that adaptation measures are deeply rooted in the community’s traditional knowledge and contemporary needs, providing a robust basis for navigating the impacts of climate change. By viewing these challenges through the lens of interconnectedness, QKE can champion sustainable development pathways that respect and rejuvenate the cultural, ecological, and economic fabric of the Cowichan Tribes. This approach promises to offer insights and models for other communities facing similar pressures, ensuring that economic development within Indigenous territories is conducted in a manner that is respectful, sustainable, and culturally congruent.

tu’nilh ‘e’ut, huqwushus Tsawalk ‘u hwqwel’qwul’i’wun ‘uw huqwushus snuw’uy’ulh thun stat’ul’stuhw ‘u thu syaays ‘u QKE ‘u sht’e ‘u tu hwn hwnuwust thuytum ‘u ‘eeye’qtum tumuhw sus uw telu’stuhw ‘u tqetham’sh ‘uw ‘uy sqwuluwun. Haqwushus ‘u, Tsawalk ‘i’wusth ‘uw nu’stl’i ‘u thuytum tu’ ‘eeye’qtum thu tumuhw hwqwel’qwul’i’wun ‘u QKE thi’ maat sqwaluwun ‘u thu hwulinitum ‘i’ hwulmuhw, thuytum thu tumuhw, ‘i telu’stuhw sus ‘uw kw’am kw’um stuhw thu sqwaluwun, tu’nilh thu slhexun’ shqwaluwun ‘u thuytum s-hwun’ts’awuqws tu hwulmuhw snuw’uy’ulh sus ‘uw nu’ stl’i ch, hulit ‘u ‘uy shqwaluwun ‘uw lumstuhw ‘uw ‘eeye’qtum thu tumuhw. Shte’ lemut ‘u tl’ux yaays le’lum’ut ‘u thu slhexun shqwaluwun, QKE ‘uw thuytum tu syaays ‘uw thuyum tu shelh Kw’i si’em sus ‘uw thuytum thu snuw’uy’ulh, slexun’ tu tumuhw, sus uw hulit thu Cowichan Tribes. Kw’i ‘e’wunus qwil’qwul’ ‘uw ‘uy sqwaluwun sus hw’uw’tsust ‘u thu s-hwun’ts’awuqw ‘asum ‘u tl’ux ‘u thu syaays, ‘uw qwil’qwul’s ‘u telu’stuhw ‘u thu hwulmuhw tumuhw ‘u ni’ wulh hay ‘uw si’emstuhw, thuytum, sus ‘uw ts’its’uwutal shqwaluwun.

Methodology

This research utilizes a case study methodology to explore the adaptive strategies that Commercial Fishing Enterprises (CFEs) employ in response to the depletion of fish stocks due to anthropogenic change. Case study research is particularly appropriate for investigating complex, real-world phenomena, providing in-depth insights into the specific context of QKEand its decision-making processes (Yin, 2018).

Tu’nilh hwqwel’qwul’i’wun mukw’ stem ‘u tu’nuhw ‘u ‘uy snuw’uy’ulh sisuw’ hunitum Commercial Fishing Enterprises (CFES) huqwush ‘u qwil’qwul’stuhw ‘u ‘uwu te’ qux ‘e’muqt Shus ‘u qul ‘eeye’qtum. Hwqwel’qwul’i’wun ‘uw slexun shqwaluwun lemut ‘uw tl’ux yaays, thu’it ‘eeye’qtum thu tumuhw, ‘uw ‘eehwe’t ‘u kw’am kw’um snuw’uy’ulh ‘u QKE sus ‘uw shqwaluwun hwnuwust (Yin, 2018).

Participants

The study involves employees of QKE who represent various roles across the organization:

Shawn Baybutt, Executive Director – Responsible for strategic planning and high-level decision-making.
Clyde, Captain—The captain leads the fishing crews and makes real-time decisions about harvesting based on environmental conditions and operational constraints.
Norman and Theresa, Board Directors – Provided critical insights from the board’s perspective.
Harold, Knowledge Keeper – Provided historical insights.

This diverse group of participants was selected to capture perspectives from multiple levels of the organization, ensuring a holistic understanding of the enterprise’s operations and adaptive strategies.

Kw’e nut’tul ‘ut sun’ts a’wuqqw wulh ‘ul’mutsun ‘uw lemut thu tl’ux syaays ‘u nutstul Mustimuhw ‘u thu hunitum orginization, thu’it ‘uy sqwaluwun ‘u thu hunitum enterprises Operatons sus ‘uw ‘eeye’qtum sqwaluwun.

Data collection methods

Data for this study were gathered using semi-structured interviews, a method that provides a balance between structured queries and the flexibility needed for participants to express their thoughts and experiences comprehensively. This approach is particularly well-suited for exploring complex issues such as the impact of climate change, operational changes, and community engagement within the context of QKE. To foster a comfortable and candid environment, interviews were conducted in settings conducive to open and relaxed conversation. Most interviews were arranged around shared meals, lunches, dinners, or over coffee. This setting honoured the cultural significance of sharing a meal as a form of community building and respect in many Indigenous cultures.

Tutuleen-unuq wulh q’pet ‘uw hawqwushus ‘uw qwil’qwul’tul, kw’in ‘u kw’i ‘ehwe’t ‘uw ‘uy shqwaluwun ‘uw thuytum shqwaluwun sus ‘u nuts’tul tu shqwaluwun ‘u mukwalup ‘u qwil’qwul’tul ‘u thu shqwaluwuns sus ‘uw yaaysstuhw shqwaluwun. Kw’i ‘uw hwqwel’qwul’i’wun thuytum thu tumuhw ‘u tl’ux ‘u thu syaays ‘u tu’ ‘eeye’qtum thu tumuhw, ‘eeye’qtum tu syaays, sus ‘uw s-hwun’ts’awuqw ‘uw qwil’qwul’tul ‘u thu QKE. ‘u hwqwel’qwul’i’wun ‘uw thuyt thu tumuhw, qwil’qwul’tul ulh tun ni’utl’ ‘uystuhw ‘u ‘uy shqwaluwun tu qwal’. Mukw qwil’qwul’tul ulh ‘u ‘a’luxut thu lutem ‘u sulhtun, shtuhwskweyulqun, hwtuhw skweyulqun, koffi. ‘u huqwush thu snuw’uy’ulh ‘u yaays ‘’u letem ‘u thu s-hwun’ts’awuqw-ewt sus ‘uw si’emstuhw thu hwulmuhw snu’uy’ulh.

These interviews were supplemented with observational notes to aid in the accurate transcription and analysis of the conversations. This combination of detailed narrative data and observational context provides a basis for understanding the ways in which QKE navigates under the guiding principle of Tsawalk¹.

Kw’i qwil’qwul’tul wulh sus ‘uw le’lum’ut ‘’u thu pipu xul’tun ni’’u thu’it ‘u thu xulxulul’s sus ‘uw lemut the qwil’qwul’tul. Tu’nilh ‘uw lemut ‘u thu’it xulxulul’ssus ‘uw le’lum’ut ‘u thu mukw stem tu’untsa ‘uw shtatulstuhw ‘u thu snu’uy’ulh thu QKE ta’lut ‘u Thu snu’uy’ulh ‘u thu Tsawalk.

It’s also worth noting that relational accountability (Wilson, 2008) guided the research process. Participants were fully informed about the purpose of the study and informed consent was obtained before interviews began. In accordance with OCAP (Ownership, Control, Access, and Possession) principles, participants and the community will have control over the data and its dissemination.

Nilh ni’’uw haqwushus thu snuw’uy’ulh (Wilson, 2008) ‘imushstuw tu snuw’uy’ulh syaays. Tu’nilh ‘u swe’ s-hwun’ts’awuqw ‘u niilh ‘uw s’ehwe’ ‘u thu xulxulul’s niilh ‘uw ‘a’luxut ‘u tsusel ‘u thu s-hwun’ts’awuqw. ‘u thu hwnuwust ‘u OCAP (Ownership, Control, Access and Possession) snuw’uy’ulh, ‘uw tutuleen’utul ‘u thu nanum ni’ ‘u tu hunitum data’s ‘u thu s-hwun’ts’awuqw.

Finally, while this case study provides valuable insights, its focus on a single CFE means that findings may not be generalizable to other Indigenous CFEs or communities. However, the lessons learned offer useful guidance for similar contexts.

hay, sus ‘uw thithat snuw’uy’ulh ‘u thu nanum, lemutum ‘u thu nuts’a CFE shhwiint tu’nilh ta’lut ‘u wawa’ ‘uwu te’ haqwush ‘u thu hwulmuhw CFEs ‘u s-hwun’ts’awuqw. Shte’, ‘u hwiw’tsust ‘u thu snuw’uy’ulh ‘u thu wa’lu syaays.

Key learnings and thematic findings

Finding 1
The cumulative impact of environmental challenges are behind fish stock decline

The pervasive impact of global warming on marine life was a recurrent theme in the interviews, with Shawn (QKE Executive Director) emphasizing its extensive effects: “The big blanket issue is global warming, that if you pin it down, there’s so many things that relate to that, like higher ocean temperatures.” Interviewees emphasized that this broader environmental challenge is intricately linked to more specific issues, such as declines in salmon populations and degradation of spawning grounds.

‘u thi’ ‘eeye’qtum ‘u thu tatum’ kw’atl’kwa ‘u thu kw’atl’kwa hulitun wulh mukw qwul’ ‘u thu nanum’, ‘u Shawn (QKE Executive Director) thi’ ‘u thu qul shqwaluwun: “ ‘u thi’ mukw’ ‘untsu ‘u thu tatum kw’atl’kwa, lemutstuhw, thuw mukw ‘eeye’qtum mukw’ ‘untsu wa’la ‘uw tatum’thu kw’atl’kwa. “nanum ‘u thithat ‘uw ‘eeye’qtum mukw’ ‘untsa tqet ‘u tu’untsu shq’il ‘u kw’in ‘uw nu’ stl’i, shte’ ni’ ‘u tsas ‘uw ‘eqmuqt ‘u thu stseelhtun Sus ‘uw tsas xili’ts ‘u thu sta’luw.

However, climate change is only one of several interconnected factors impacting marine ecosystems. Industrial impacts, as discussed by Norm (board member) and Harold (knowledge keeper), also play a significant role. Norm highlighted the broad implications of industrial activities on the sustainability of fish populations: “A bigger concern and bigger damage has come from industry.” Harold specifically noted the pressures from commercial fishing and international competition: “I think the main factor would be commercial fishing. And also different countries like United States and Japan, play a big part in taking our chum.”

Kwu’elh, ‘eeye’qtum thu tumuhw ‘i nuts’tul ‘uw ‘eey’ ‘uw qul slexun thu kw’atl’kwa Hulitun. Hunitum Industrial impacts, ‘u nanum ‘u thu Norm (board member) sus Harold Hunitum Industrial syaays ‘u thuyt thu stseelhtun ‘emuqt: “ ‘u thi’ maat qul shqwaluwun suyum tun ni’ tsun utl’hunitum Industry. Harold ‘uw nanum ‘u qux kw’akw’kw’i’kw ‘u thu hunitum commercial fishing and international competition: “ni’ tsun shteewun huy ‘ul’ hunitum commercial fishing. Sus tl’e’ nuts’tul ‘u thu United States sus Japan, ‘u qux kw’akw’i’ukw ‘u Kwunut thu kw’a’luhw.”

The ongoing decline in fish runs also reflects historical and cumulative impacts, captured through the reflections of Theresa (board member) on past abundances compared to current scarcities: “I remember late Moe Henry speaking about fishing back in his day, where he could just go to the river… and he’d already have about 10 fish, but now the runs are not as good.”

‘u qulet ‘u ‘uwu te’ qux ‘emuqt ‘u thu stseelhtun tl’e’ lumstamu ‘u ‘iilh ‘u ‘athut yaays, kwunut ‘uw ‘u lumstamu ‘u thu Theresa (board member) ‘u ‘iilh ‘emuqt ‘u hwi’ ‘emuqt ‘uwu te’ qux: “ni’ tsum hekw ‘u thu ‘iilh Moe Henry qwaqwulstuhw ‘u thu kw’akw’i’ukwulh, u ‘imush ‘u nem ‘u thu sta’luw…sus ‘uw hwun ‘uw kwunut ‘apun ‘u thu stseelhtun, ‘u hwi’ qul ‘emuqt.”

In the spirit of Tsawalk, these environmental, industrial, and historical factors must be understood as part of a complex system where no single issue can be isolated from the others.

‘u tu snuw’uy’ulh ‘u Tsawalk, tun’untsa hunitum environmental, industrisl, historical factors ‘uw shtatulstuhw ‘uw nuts’tul ‘uw ‘eeye’qmut ‘u thu tumuhw ‘uwu te’ nuts’a ‘eeye’qmut ‘u sul’utul’.

Finding 2
The cultural significance of fishing bridges past and present, people and nature

Fishing holds a profound place in the fabric of Cowichan identity, embodying more than a mere activity; it is a vital cultural practice intertwined with the essence of the community. Theresa articulates this significance, emphasizing its foundational role: “Fishing is a very important aspect of who we are as Cowichan people, and I think they would like to keep fishing just to keep providing for their own community.” This statement highlights fishing as an economic activity and a cultural imperative that sustains and nurtures community identity and coherence.

Kw’awk’i’uhw ‘uw kwun’et ‘u thi’ maat shqwaluwun thu quw’utsun hwulmuhw, thithat ‘u thu Kw’awk’i’uhw:tu’inulh ‘u thithat ‘u xexe kw’awk’i’uhw ‘u thu sulhtun ‘u thu s-hwun’ts’awuqw. Theresa qwil’qwul ‘u tu thi’ maat shqwaluwun, ‘u thu snuw’uy’ulhstuw: kw’awk’i’uhw ‘u nanu thi’that ‘u ‘een thu tst ‘u thu quwutsun mustimuhw, sus ni’ sht’eewun ‘u mukw stem ‘uw Kw’awk’i’uhw ‘uw lhew’lhne’num ‘u thu s-hwun’ts’awuqw. “tun’untsa nanum le’lumut’staam Kw’awk’i’uhw ‘uw telustuhw susuw’‘u thu xexe syaays ‘uw lhew’lhne’num thu shwun’ts’awuqw ‘een thu ‘u sus shqwaluwun.

The impacts of modern fishing practices and environmental degradation, highlighted by Shawn and Clyde, suggest a significant disruption to these traditional practices. Modern challenges such as pollution, climate change, and industrial fishing have altered the landscapes and waterscapes that the Cowichan people have depended on for generations.

Tun’untsa ‘u qe’is ‘u thu kw’awk’i’uhw snuw’uy’ulh sus ‘u tatum kw’atl’kwa, le’lumutstaam ‘u Thu Shawn ‘i Clyde, nanum ‘uw qul shqwaluwun ‘u thu lhew’lhne’num. Qe’is tqet ‘u thu quliima’ qa’, ‘eeye’qmut thu tumuhw, sus ‘uw hunitum industrial fishing tsu’ ‘eeye’qmut thu tumuhw sus ‘u mukw thu qa’ ‘u tthey nu’stli’ ‘u mukw stem thu quw’utsun mustimuhw.

Harold’s reflections on traditional fishing practices deepen our understanding of these cultural dimensions and their connection to building relationships and passing down teachings. He recounts, “We’d walk up the rivers with our spears; we would have to do all the dirty work. We would flash fish for our older cousins. We learned how to do that. There is a way to be with the river, quiet, respectful, don’t take more than you need.” This narrative is a powerful testament to the intergenerational transmission of knowledge, where fishing is about sustenance and learning respect, patience, and the proper stewardship of nature’s resources. It encapsulates a relationship with the river and the fish that is reciprocal and respectful, embodying the principles of taking only what is needed to ensure sustainability and respect for the life given by the river.

Harold’s nanum ‘u thu kwa’awk’i’uhw snuw’uy’ulh le’lum’uts ‘u stawtulstuhw tthuw’ne’ulh Muhw shqwaluwun sus ‘uw thuyt thhu ‘uy shqwaluwun sus ‘uw snuwun Snuw’uy’ulh. Tthuw’ne’ullh, “ tst ‘uw ‘imush ‘u tuyul kwutst ‘u thu sunums; tst ‘uw thuy tu quliima’ syaays. Tst ulh ‘u hunitum flash fish kwthuna shuyulh. Tst ‘uw ta’lutstuhw. Tun’untsa tst ‘uw tuyul,ts’ewul, si’emstuhw, ‘uwu ch ‘u qux ‘uw nu’stli’ ch. “ tu’nilh ‘uw nanum ‘u Kw’am kw’um qwil’qwul’ ‘u snuwunstuhw ‘u thu snuw’uy’ulh, tun’untsa kw’awk’i’uhw sht’e sulhtun sus ‘uw si’emstuhw, ‘al’mutsun’, sus ‘uw ‘uy shqwaluwun ‘u thu stseelhtun. Kwus ‘uw Nuts’a maat shqwaluwun kwsutst thu sta’luw ‘u thu stseelhtun ‘uw mukw stem si’emstuhw, Haqwushus ‘u thu hwnuwust ‘uw kwunut ch nu’stli’ ‘u hulithut ‘u thu stseelhtun sus ‘uw si’em hwuhe’lit ‘ee’hwet ‘u thu sta’luw.

In sum, the cultural significance of fishing within Cowichan communities is profound, serving as a bridge between past and present, elders and youth, and people and nature.This holistic view, where economic, environmental, cultural, and social elements are inseparably linked, reflects the true essence of the Tsawalk principle.

tl’uw’, ‘u thu ‘uy shwaluwun ‘u thu kw’awk’i’uhw ‘utl quw’utsun s-hwun’ts’awuqw ‘u thithat, Thuytum ‘uw shqwaluwun ‘u thu kweyululh ‘u tun’u kweyul, sul’eluw ‘i swiw’lus ‘u Thu tumuhw. ‘uw le’lum’ut ‘u thu hunitun niihw hwsuq’a’, le’lum’ut ‘u thu’it shqwaluwun ‘u they’ Tsawalk hwnuwust.

Finding 3
Adaptation strategies and regulations must work together

Adaptation strategies in commercial fishing, such as diversifying fishery products, are crucial for responding to environmental and economic shifts impacting Indigenous communities (Whitney et al., 2020). As Shawn notes, expanding from traditional prawn fishing to include crab and ground fish illustrates proactive adjustments that enhance resilience against fluctuating marine populations and market demands. This strategic response extends beyond product diversification to include adaptive practices like seasonal fishing adjustments, the adoption of environmentally friendly fishing technologies, and community-led initiatives such as stream rehabilitation and hatchery development. These practices, deeply rooted in traditional knowledge, enhance ecological sustainability and strengthen cultural ties and community engagement in fisheries management.

‘eeye’qmut thu snuw’uy’ulh ‘u thu hunitum commercial fishing, ‘uw kwunut nuts’tul stseelhtun, Thithat ‘uw ‘eeyeqtum ‘u kw’atl’kwa sus telustuhw‘eeye’qtum,‘eeyeqtum thu s-hwun’ts’awuqw (whitney et al., 2020). ‘u Shawn xuxil, yu ts’its’usum’ ‘uw hwulmuhw kw’awk’i’ukw ‘u thu mam’ul’ ‘i ‘ey’xe’ ‘uw sts’at’qw’ steelhtun, le’lum’stum’ ‘ut ‘eeye’qtum ‘uw kw’am kw’umstuhw ‘u ‘eeye’qtum Kwatl’kwa kw’iin sus ‘u hunitum market demands. Kw’is nanum ‘i nem’yul-ew’ yaays ‘eeye’qtum ‘u lhikw’ut ‘eeye’qtum tu snuw’uy’ulh kwthu kw’awk’i’ukw ‘emuqt, ‘u ‘eeye’qtum ‘uy tumuhw ‘u sye’yu kw’awk’i’ukwstuhw, sus ‘uw s-hwun’ts’awuqwstuhw sus ‘uw thuyt thu statluw’ ‘u thu hunitum hatchery development. Kw’i hwnuwust, kw’am kw’um hwulmuhw Snuw’uy’ulh, ‘uw thuyt thu kw’atl’kwa’stuhw sus ‘uw kw’am kw’um ‘u thu hwulmuhw ‘u thu s-hwun’ts’awuqw staam ‘uw kw’ikw’i’ukwstuhw.

Simultaneously, navigating complex regulatory frameworks is vital, as these policies directly influence the sustainability of fisheries. Shawn notes that, “federal fisheries policies have a significant impact on our business, especially with the consistent closings of fisheries such as salmon.” This underscores the need for a regulatory environment that supports rather than hinders sustainable practices. This interplay of adaptive strategies and policy dynamics suggests that a comprehensive, community-driven approach is vital for the long-term viability of Indigenous commercial fisheries.

Tl’e qul’et, ‘uw ta’lut ‘u tl’ux hwnuwust ‘u thu syaays ‘i thithat,’u tun’a hwnuwust ‘uw ‘eeye’qtum’u thu kw’akw’i’ukwstaam. Shawn qwi qwal ‘u,” hunitum hwnuwust sus ‘uw qul shqwaluwun ‘u thu syaays, nan ‘uw ‘u mukw stem ‘unuhw sus ‘uw kw’awk’i’ukw tuw’ne’ullh steelhtun.” kw’i ‘u thu hunitum federal fisheries hwnuwust nu’stl’i’ ‘uy hwnuwust kw’i ‘unuhw kw’ikw’i’ukwstuhw. Kw’i ‘uw yaays ‘u qe’is shqwaluwun sus hwnuwuststaam ‘uw qwiqwal ‘uw ‘u statulstuhw, tu s-hwun’ts’awuqw staam ‘uw thithat ‘u qux silanum ‘uy shqwaluwun ‘u thu hunitum Indigenous commercial fisheries.

Together, these three findings highlight the interconnected challenges and responses within the sector, suggesting that a holistic approach incorporating community input and adaptive strategies is essential for moving forward.

Kwun’atul’, kw’i lhew ‘u tatul’ut wi’wul ‘u lh’qet sus ‘uw tqet sus ‘uw qwi’qwal ‘u tun’ni’ tsun ‘utl, wa’lu ‘u ‘uy shqwaluwun nem ‘u s-hwun’ts’awuqw staam sus ‘uw ‘eeye’qtum shqwaluwun ‘i thithat ‘u xwte’.

Recommendations

In light of the critical challenges faced by QKE and the broader Indigenous commercial fisheries, we propose the following recommendations. While primarily relevant to Indigenous communities and CFEs, these recommendations also call for significant involvement from federal and local governments, acknowledging their crucial role in supporting and implementing sustainable practices. This multi-stakeholder approach is essential for addressing the environmental, cultural, and economic challenges vital for the long-term health of fish stocks and the communities dependent on them.

Wa’lu ‘u thithat ‘uw tqet ‘u nasum ‘u thu QKE, sus ‘uw mukw hunitum Indigenous commercial Fisheries, tst qwi’qwul ‘u kwe’tum thu snuw’uy’ulh. Wulh “uy shwaluwun ‘u thu hwulmuhw s-hwun’ts’awuqw sus CFEs, tthuw’ne’ullh nanum nu’stl’i’ ‘u thithat ‘u nanum thu hunitum federal sus local governments, tul’nuhw ‘uw ‘uy shqwaluwuns ‘u si’ellh stuhw ‘u yaays ‘uw ‘uy Hulitun hwnuwust. Kw’i tu’ul’tun xwte’ ‘u thithat sus ‘uw thuyt thu tumuhw, shqwaluwun, sus telu’stuhw tqet thithat ‘u thu nuts’a maat shqwaluwun ‘u hulitun ‘u steelhtun ‘emuqt ‘u thu s-hwun’ts’awuqwstaam.

Recommendation 1
Advocate for comprehensive environmental and industrial impact assessments

We encourage communities and CFEs to advocate for thorough environmental impact assessments that incorporate the effects of climate change, overfishing, pollution, and nearby industrial activities such as logging and milling. These assessments should provide a holistic view of how these factors interact and impact fish populations, supporting sustainable management practices aligned with the Tsawalk principle. While the primary responsibility for initiating these assessments could lie with federal and provincial governments, active advocacy and participation by Indigenous communities and CFEs is essential. Advocacy for these assessments should be ongoing but particularly assertive in the pre-planning stages of any new industrial activities that could impact the fisheries. This proactive approach ensures that environmental considerations are integrated from the outset rather than retroactively. Additionally, advocacy should also focus on retroactive assessments for ongoing or established industrial activities. By taking a proactive and retroactive approach this ensures that the assessments are not only comprehensive but also culturally and environmentally sensitive, aligned with the Tsawalk principle.

tst qwi’qwal’ thu s-hwun’tsawuqw sus CFEs ‘u qwi’qwal ‘u kw’am kwum nanum ‘u thu thuyt thu tumuhw kw’i ‘i ‘uw ‘eeye’qmut ‘u thu tumuhw, qux kw’awk’i’ukw, quliima’ qa’sus ‘uw tl’uts’‘u hunitum industrial activities such as logging milling.Kw’i nanum ‘ehwe’ ‘uw thi’maat shqwaluwun kw’i nuts’tul nanum sus ‘eeyeqmut steelhtun ‘emuqt, si’ellh stuhw ‘uw hulitunstuhw hwnuwust ‘uw kwun’utul’ ‘u thu Tsawalk hwnuwust. Sht’e nuts’a ‘u thu syaays ‘uw xwte’ ‘uw nanum ‘uw kwsutst thu hunitum Federal sus provincial governments, qwi’qwalstaam sus uw thuytum ‘u thu hwulmuhw s-hwun’ts’awuqw sus CFEs ‘u nu’st’i’. Qw’qwalstaam ‘uw nanum thuw mukw stem ‘u kw’am kwum qwi’qwal ‘u tu tse’ul ‘u sqwaluwunthut ‘u qe’is ‘u hunitum industrial activities kw’i ‘eeyeqmut kw’awk’i’ukw. kw’i ‘uy shqwaluwun xwte’ ‘uw thuyt thu tumuhw nanum ‘u hawqwushus ‘u tu tse’ul ‘uw ‘uwu te’ ‘uw yathulh. ‘i’, qwi’qwalstaam nu’stl’i’ yath ‘uw le’lum’ut thu nanum xwte’ ‘u thu nanum hwu thu hunitum industrial activities. ‘u kwun’ut ‘u ‘uy shqwaluwun sus hwu shqwaluwun kw’i yath ‘uw ‘u nanum ‘uw yath ‘uw statulstuhw ‘uw ‘uy shqwaluwun thu hwulmuhw ‘uw ‘u yaays ‘u tumuhw, kwun’utul’ ‘u thu Tsawalk hwnuwust.

Recommendation 2
Lead an ecosystem mapping initiative

We suggest communities and CFEs develop a detailed ecosystem mapping initiative that identifies key players in the fishing industry, including regulatory bodies, local communities, environmental groups, and industry stakeholders. Led by Indigenous communities in partnership with environmental NGOs, this initiative should be supported by technical expertise from governmental agencies. Funding should be sought from governmental and private sources to ensure comprehensive coverage and utilization of advanced mapping technologies. This mapping should prioritize understanding the causes behind declining fish stocks, focusing first on direct and indirect impacts, such as habitat destruction and industrial runoff, to facilitate targeted and effective conservation strategies. This initiative should be undertaken as a baseline activity and updated regularly, or when significant environmental or industrial changes are proposed. Such updates will help monitor existing conservation strategies’ ongoing impacts and effectiveness.

tst qwi’qwalstaam ‘u thu s-hwun’ts’awaqw sus CFEs thuyt ‘u kw’am kw’um tumuhw nanumstuhw kw’i ‘uw kw’awk’i’ukw hunitum industry mustimuhw, tl’e’ hwnuwust mustimuhw, s-hwun’ts’awuqw, thuyt thu tumuhw mustimuhw, sus Hunitum stakeholders, xwte’ ‘u hwulmuhw s=hwun’ts’awuqw ‘u hunitum environmental NGOs ‘ kw’i xwte’ ‘u nu’stl’i’ ‘uw si’ellh stuhw ‘u hunitum expertise from government agencies. Telu ‘uw lemutstaam ‘u hunitum governmental susprivate sources ‘u tse’ statulstuhw ‘u thi’lut sus ‘uw haqwushus ‘u qe’is hunitum mapping technologies. Kw’i hunitum mapping tse’ ‘u xwte’ statulstuhw shus ‘uw ‘uwu te’ qux steelhtun’’emuqt, le’lum’ut nuts’a ‘u qul Sus wa’wa’ qul shwaluwun, ‘u tsaas tumuhw sus hunitum industrial runoff, ‘u xwte’ ‘u thuyt Thu tumuhw shqwaluwun.Kw’i shuw xwte’‘u thu nanum ni’’u ‘eeyeqtum yaays sus ‘uw thuytumstaam, kwsun’s ‘uw thuytum thu tumuhw ‘u hunitum indutrial changes are proposed. Tthuw’ne’ullh qe’is nunum ‘uw ts’ewut ‘uw le’lum’ut ‘u thu ‘uy shqwaluwun sus ‘uw ts’ewutum.

Recommendation 3
Establish climate-resilient partnership programs

Partnership programs that include Indigenous communities, commercial fisheries, environmental agencies, and other relevant stakeholders should focus on developing adaptive strategies that mitigate the impacts of identified threats, such as climate change and industrial pollution. In collaboration with CFEs, Indigenous communities should lead these programs, with technical and financial support provided by government agencies. Such arrangements should be formalized through memorandums of understanding to clarify roles, responsibilities, and contributions from all parties involved. Partnership programs should be initiated in response to identified threats and vulnerabilities within the fisheries ecosystem that could be exacerbated by climate change or industrial activities. Regular environmental audits and risk assessments should trigger reviews and updates to these strategies.

kwun’utul’ yaays kwi’es lhilhukw’ut thu hwulmuhw s-hwun’ts’uwuqw, hunitum commercial fisheries, Environmental agencies sus nuts’tul hunitum relevent stakeholders ‘uw thuyt ‘u qe’is snuw’uy’ulh ‘uw ts’ewut ‘u yaays ‘uw thuytum thu tumuhw, tu’inilh hunitum climate change and industrial pollution. Sun’iw’ ‘u kwun’atul’ ‘u CFEs, hwulmuhw s-hwun’ts’awuqw ‘u xwte’ thu syaays, q’a’ hunitum technical and financial support provided by government agencies. Kw’i xte’ q’a’ ‘uw qwil’qwul’tul ‘u hunitum through memorandums of understanding to clarify roles, responsibilities, and contributions ‘uw mukw’lhet. Kwun’atul’ syaays niilh xwte’ ‘uw yaays sun’iw qwi’qwal ‘uw lemut thu qul shqaluwun sus maanthut q’a’ut ‘uw hunitum fisheries ecosystem kw’i ‘uw lhtsiws ‘uw ‘eeye’qmut ‘u thu kw’atl’kwa ‘u hunitum industrial activities. Hunitum regular environmental audits and risk assessments xwte’ staam le’lum’ut pqwutsun qe’is thu snuw’uy’ulh.

Conclusion

The case study of QKE reveals the intricate layers of challenges and opportunities within the Indigenous commercial fisheries sector, underpinned by the Tsawalk principle of interconnectedness. This study has highlighted the critical roles that environmental stewardship, cultural integrity, and sustainable economic practices play in maintaining the balance between community welfare and ecological health. As we look forward, the recommendations proposed aim to build a resilient future for Indigenous fisheries through comprehensive ecosystem management, collaborative approaches, and the integration of traditional knowledge with modern practices. The success of these initiatives requires a commitment from all stakeholders to respect and honour the complex relationships that define the health of both the community and the environment.

kw’i nanum ‘u thu QKE ‘uw lumstuhw ‘u tl’ux ‘u thu syaays ‘u tqet staam sus yaays q’a’ suniw thu hwulmuhw hunitum commercial fisheries sector, thithat ‘u thu Tsawalk hwnuwust ‘u nuts’a maat shqwaluwun. Kw’i nunum lemut thithat yaays ‘u le’lum’utstuhw thu tumuhw ‘uy shqwaluwun, sus hulitun telu’stuhw hwnuwust ‘uw kw’am kw’um thu shqwaluwun shhw-e’yu s-hwun’ts’awuqw shqwaluwun ‘u thu tumuhw hulitun. Kwutst lemut xwte’ ‘u nanum qwi’qwul’tul ‘uw thuyt ‘u tl’ux yuluw’en ‘u hwulmuhw kw’awk’i’ukw ‘u statulstuhw Kw’atl’kwa’stuhw, kwun’atul’ xwte’, sus ‘uw hawqwushus ‘u snuw’uy ulh q’a’ qe’is snuw’uy’ulh. ‘uw wulh hay thu syaays ‘uw nu’stl’i’ ‘u thu’it shqwaluwun thuwmukw Hunitum stakeholders ‘uw si’em sus stsi’sulh tl’ux shqwaluwun ‘u thu hulitun ‘u s-uy’aan ‘u thu s-hwun’ts’awuqw sus ’u thu tumuhw.

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¹ Data was analyzed using reflexive thematic analysis, following Braun and Clarke’s (2006) guidelines.

Exploring Indigenous-led distributed energy systems in New Brunswick

Introduction in Mi’kmaq, New Brunswick dialect

[Click to see in English] L’nue’kati’l ta’n New Brunswick na etekl ta’n nikantuk ta’n tett teliknaq sa’se’wa’sik, ki’s wesuwa’tmkl nuta’ql elkusuwatmkl ukjit nisa’tmk ta’n teliknaq aqq ewikasik ekkat jiltek ta’n nekemowk kepme’kl Utann ukjit na naji-petlewikl ta’n na utann aqq msit New Brunswickewaq (CBC, 2022) ( New Brunswick Mlkikno’ti, 2023) (New Brunswick Mlkikno’ti, 2024). Utann, nkutey Amlamkuk (Amlamkukewey Utan), na kiskajo’ltijik ukjit ta’n wejku’waql elkusuwasikl ula ta’n elteskemk. Ta’n nenmi’titl ankaptmk nike’ na naji-petlewa’tutij teliknaq Wksankewo’ti, teliknaq kelpitasik, aqq we’jitmk kejitmkl maqmikewel ukjit kisitasik kwilutasik-apaji-klusimk kisaptasikl ukjit nisa’tun ta’n siawikwutikl siptaqtestoq ta’n na provincialey wasoqenawek nastaqtek wejiaq kisitasik aqq tewa’tkitasik ta’n utan-enkasik iknmuetasik teliknaq kisitasikl (DES).

Ula telitpiaq ekitk kwilk ta’n teltekl ta’n iknmuetasikl teliknaql kisitasikl, ta’n tel-wikasik aqq tetpaqa’tasik weskewa’timk etek kiskuk ta’n ika’toql anqateskawekl ukjit meski’k wesuwa’luksin ta’n ula kisitasikl, aqq ta’n L’nue’kati’l na kelu’kewe’l telpukuwultijik ukjit sapteskmnew ta’n anqateskawekl.

First Nations in New Brunswick are at the forefront of the energy transition, having already taken significant steps to reduce the energy and carbon footprint in their respective nations for the betterment of their communities and all New Brunswickers ( (CBC News, 2021); (New Brunswick Power, 2023); (New Brunswick Power, 2024) (CBC News, 2022)). Nations, like Amlamgog (Fort Folly First Nation), are poised to take the next steps of this journey. Their ambitions focus now on enhancing energy sovereignty, energy security, and establishing proving grounds for innovative demand-response solutions to reduce the ever-growing strain on the provincial electricity grid through development and deployment of community-scale distributed energy systems (DES).

This case study explores the concepts of distributed energy systems, the policy and regulatory arena present today that imposes barriers to broad adoption of these systems, and how First Nations are uniquely positioned to overcome these barriers.

Distributed energy systems

Distributed energy systems (DES) can take many forms. They refer to a suite of technologies and protocols that allow for energy to be generated and/or stored closer to the point of use, rather than reliance on vast distribution networks (Pepermans, Driesen, Haeseldonckx, & D’haeseleer, 2005). These systems can include elements such as solar panels, wind turbines, micro-hydroelectric units, gas-fired microturbines, combined heat and power (CHP) plants, energy storage solutions (like batteries), and other demand-response technologies.

Key features of DES include:

Decentralization: Energy production occurs closer to the end user, which can enhance energy security and reliability.
Renewable energy integration: DES often incorporate renewable energy sources, helping to reduce greenhouse gas emissions and reliance on fossil fuels.
Grid resilience: By diversifying energy sources and locations, distributed systems can enhance the resilience of the broader energy grid, making it less susceptible to outages.
Scalability: Distributed energy systems can often be deployed incrementally, allowing for flexible growth in accordance with localized energy demands.
Local energy generation: This approach can empower communities and businesses to manage their energy needs and costs more effectively.
Democratization: Refers to making energy generation and management more accessible, participatory, and equitable, shifting power (literally and figuratively) away from centralized utilities and toward individuals, communities, and smaller entities.

In application, DES could include:

Residential use: Homeowners can install rooftop solar panels or small wind turbines to offset a home’s energy consumption. When coupled with an energy storage system (such as a battery), energy could be generated during off-peak hours, stored, and discharged to the home during times of peak demand on the grid.
Commercial use: Businesses might use CHP systems or battery storage to reduce peak demand, resulting in energy cost savings by reducing demand charges, and increase efficiency.
Microgrids: These localized grids can operate independently or in conjunction with the traditional grid, often using a mix of distributed energy sources. Microgrids can be scaled to serve industrial or institutional campuses, neighbourhoods, and even communities.

Figure 1 below compares a typical centralized grid against a distributed grid configuration. In the distributed system example, the energy storage units shown are in close proximity to end users and allows for the integration of local CHP plants along with domestic consumer generation including solar and CHP.

Distributed energy systems and the regulatory arena

The regulatory environment for electricity in New Brunswick is shaped by various governmental bodies, legislation, and policies aimed at overseeing the generation, transmission, distribution, and retail of electricity. We outline the main features below.

The Electricity Act outlines the framework for managing and regulating the electric power industry in New Brunswick. It encompasses the responsibilities of the New Brunswick Energy and Utilities Board (NBEUB) and establishes guidelines for utility operations and rate-setting. New Brunswick operates under a regulated market structure, where the main utility, New Brunswick Power Corporation (NB Power), has a dominant position.
The Electricity Act further establishes government policy for the electricity system. It states that NB Power’s “sources and facilities for the supply, transmission and distribution of electricity within the province should be managed and operated in a manner that is consistent with reliable, safe and economically sustainable service.” The Act also outlines a cost-of-service operating model, within which the system should be managed in such a way that results in the lowest cost to consumers (Government of New Brunswick, 2013).
The NBEUB is an independent quasi-judicial tribunal that regulates electricity and natural gas utilities in New Brunswick, to ensure that customers receive safe and reliable service at just and reasonable rates. NBEUB regulates the rates charged by NB Power, the provincially-owned electric utility, and enforces reliability standards (New Brunswick Energy & Utilities Board, 2025).
NB Power is the main utility in the province, responsible for the generation, transmission, and distribution of electricity. It is publicly owned and operates a balanced mix of generation facilities including nuclear, hydroelectric, and fossil fuel/thermal plants (New Brunswick Power, 2025). There are three local distribution utilities in New Brunswick, namely Saint John Energy, Edmundston Energy and Perth-Andover Electric Light Commission.

The New Brunswick Electricity Act states “No person, other than the [New Brunswick Power] Corporation, shall sell or supply electricity to a consumer or municipal distribution utility within the province” (Government of New Brunswick, 2013). Despite this, the regulations do allow for Independent Power Producers (IPPs) to operate in New Brunswick, through a strict set of arrangements. IPPs enter into Power Purchase Agreements (PPAs) with NB Power that define terms for selling electricity back to the grid. They are also required to obtain a license to operate from the NBEUB. From time to time, based on the utility’s projected demands from their Integrated Resource Plan (IRP) (New Brunswick Power, 2023), NB Power will issue Requests for Expressions of Interest (REOI) for new generation assets from IPPs. Recent REOIs include a call in 2023 for up to 220 megawatts (MW) of renewable resources and up to 50 MW of energy storage (New Brunswick Power, 2023), and a call seeking qualified respondents to build, own, and operate a 400 MW simple-cycle combustion turbine generating station (New Brunswick Power, 2024).

What does this all mean? The electricity market in New Brunswick is heavily regulated, with the provincial utility (NB Power) exclusively responsible for generation, transmission, and distribution of electricity. While IPPs are permitted to operate, the Government of New Brunswick establishes the market and operating conditions for these producers. Small-scale behind-the-meter renewable generation is permitted; however, these systems are capped today at 100 kilowatt (kW) and the resultant net-metering agreements offer no financial returns for excess electricity generated through these systems on an annual basis. Further, there is no open energy trading market within the distribution system, meaning there is no path for peer-to-peer energy trading between consumers.

If a First Nation were interested in pursuing a heightened state of energy independence and energy sovereignty, one of the only mechanism available today would be through a response to a Request for Expression of Interest for new generation assets from NB Power. This would be an open and competitive bid process, aimed at procuring electricity at rates that result in ratepayer benefit (i.e., savings).

Amlamgog (Fort Folly First Nation)—Leadership from the forefront of the energy transition

Amlamgog (Fort Folly First Nation) is a Mi’kmaq community located in New Brunswick, Canada. Established in 1840, the community is situated near the village of Dorchester, along the southeastern coast of New Brunswick. The community is part of the larger Mi’kmaq Nation, which has a rich cultural heritage and a history that dates back thousands of years.

Amlamgog has approximately 140 registered members (Government of Canada, 2025), with an on-reserve population of approximately 60. The community is comprised of approximately 35 residences, six band-owned commercial buildings, including a recently constructed five-unit elder’s residence.

In recent years, based on a commitment made by Chief and Council, Amlamgog has taken several bold steps in advancing the community’s sustainability goals, for the betterment of future generations.

In 2022, Amlamgog commissioned four net-metering solar systems connected to commercial buildings in the community (CBC, 2021). The total installed solar capacity is 112 kW with an annual production of approximately 144,000 kWh/yr, and a lifetime greenhouse gas (GHG) reduction of 1,771 tonnes CO₂(Natural Forces Solar, 2024).

In 2023, Amlamgog, supported by the North Shore Mi’kmaq Tribal Council, undertook development of a Community Energy Plan (CEP) consisting of a community energy assessment, a community energy and emissions plan, and an emissions reduction pathway. One of the key findings of the CEP demonstrated that the per-capita electrical consumption in the community was approximately half when compared with the New Brunswick average (9,118 vs. 17,600 kWh/person/year) (Quest Canada, 2024). This can largely be attributed to the net-metering solar systems that are operating in the community.
Amlamgog has committed to enhancing the building envelope for all new residential and commercial construction projects through methods such as insulated concrete form exterior wall systems, resulting in a lower energy and environmental footprint for all new developments. Although not formally adopted as a policy, the community has expressed interest in making this formal commitment (Quest Canada, 2024).
Amlamgog is actively participating in the NB Power First Nations Energy Efficiency Program. By the end of 2025, approximately 17 per cent of the community’s housing stock will have undergone a comprehensive energy retrofit, including conversion of the remaining fuel oil heating systems to electric.
Amlamgog has committed to fully electrifying corporate operations, including fleet assets. The nation has recently purchased its first electric vehicle (EV) and is advancing plans to install banks of EV chargers to support this transition. The community is also seeking to install revenue-grade fast changers, which would serve the public and provide an alternative own-source revenue stream.

With a total electrical consumption of 666,255 kWh in 2023, Amlamgog is well within reach of achieving the status of a net-zero energy community. Doing so, however, would require a combination of regulatory and infrastructure investments.

Taking the next steps – Integration of distributed energy systems in Amlamgog

[Click to see in English] Msit mesnmk nationaley aqq provincialey teliknaq sa’se’wa’sik mesnmkl na nuta’qtital msit ta’n ilapaqewemkewe’l ta’n na ilapaqawemkewe’l-masqwa’tasikl. L’nue’kati’l utann, nkutey Amlamkuk ta’n New Brunswick, na kelu’lkewe’l telpukuwikl ukjit almi’jkan nikana’tu’n tel-lukwen na kisitaqetijik ta’n Kana’taewey waqme’k teliknaq sa’se’wa’sik. Nekemowk apoqnmua’tijikw ta’n ketloqoe’l apoqnmuekl, melkuktmk ta’n westawiasik aqq tel-lukwemk ukjit kaqi tetpaqtek telo’ltimk kjijitaqn elt kiskukewey espitasikewey kelu’lkewe’l telpukuwimkl ukjit na layjitunew sa’se’wa’sik pilu’tek ta’n welapetmkl kitk L’nu’k aqq mu L’nu’k te’sultijik. Ekina’mujik L’nu’k nikanusk Ula ta’n etek na nuta’q ukjit mesnmk na tplutaqniktuk, tetpaqtek, aqq westawiasik teliknaq elmi’knik.

Fully achieving national and provincial energy transition goals will require all the tools in the toolbox. Indigenous communities, like Amlamgog in New Brunswick, are uniquely positioned to play a leading role as innovators in Canada’s clean energy transition. Their stewardship of natural resources, commitment to sustainability, and ability to balance traditional knowledge with modern technology uniquely positions them to drive transformative change that benefits both Indigenous and non-Indigenous populations. Empowering Indigenous leadership in this space is essential to achieving a just, equitable, and sustainable energy future.

If we think about communities as a single electrical load, the ability to have communities operate independently from the electrical grid in times of peak demand (in what is sometimes referred to as “island mode”) would enhance the overall resiliency and reliability of a region’s electrical grid. These islanded grids can also be used to rebuild the larger grid if there is a major unplanned outage.

On February 4, 2023, New Brunswick faced a record-high demand of 3,394 MW (Conservation Council of New Brunswick, 2023) due to a severe cold weather event that place considerable strain on the provincial grid and the portfolio of generation assets managed by NB Power. With neighbouring jurisdictions under the same duress, electricity imports were unavailable—New Brunswick was forced to operate in a state of self-reliance.

Had all 15 First Nation communities in the province of New Brunswick (see Figure 4 below) been equipped with community-scale distributed energy systems, the result would have been the equivalent of turning on a moderately-sized power plant, without the cost and complexity of having to construct one.

In a situation where every electron matters, having additional capacity margin in the right locations can mean the difference between grid stability and outages.

In Amlamgog, a community-scale distributed energy system could take many forms but would likely consist of a micro-grid coupled with a small generation asset and/or energy storage system. A micro-grid forms a localized electricity grid, independent from the main power grid. Through a micro-grid controller, the system balances supply into the grid because of demand.

Generation could come from a variety of sources, including:

A community-scale solar farm, like the Shediac Smart Energy Community Project (New Brunswick Power, 2025) coupled with a battery energy storage system. In development of the Amlamgog Community Energy Plan, community members identified potential locations for a community solar park and expressed interest in exploring agrivoltaics (the integration of solar energy generation with agricultural practices on the same land).
A community-scale wind farm or integration of vertical-axis wind turbines, coupled with a battery energy storage system. During development of the Amlamgog Community Energy Plan, community members expressed concerns related to noise which would require further evaluation due to the small footprint of the community (Quest Canada, 2024).
A community-scale battery energy storage system, charged via the NB Power grid at times of low demand and dissipated during times of peak demand on the grid.
A community-scale geothermal energy plant, similar to the Tu Deh-Kah Geothermal project in British Columbia (Tu Deh-Kah Geothermal, 2025). This option is judged to be less feasible given the limited application of these types of systems in Canada as a whole.
A combined heat and power (CHP) co-generation plant, with biomass, natural gas or biofuel as the primary feedstock. An existing biomass heating system serving the existing commercial building could be replaced with a CHP plant, providing the potential to add additional heat load such as year-round food production (e.g., greenhouses), addressing food security in addition to energy security. The North Bay Ontario Community Energy Park, located in North Bay, Ontario, is an excellent example of such a system (Community Energy Park, n.d.).

One consideration of importance to Amlamgog would be selecting a system that ensured a net-positive environmental and emissions benefit that could help accelerate the community’s mission of achieving net-zero carbon emissions. New Brunswick’s electrical grid in 2025 yields a carbon intensity of 350g CO₂e/kWh (Government of Canada, 2024). A distributed energy system with embedded generation would be required to demonstrate that overall GHG emissions for the community were lower than drawing from the provincial grid.

[Click to see in English] Ta’n kespi wikasik: tepiaql espitasikl etekl kiskuk ukjit ika’lan Amlamkuk (aqq pilewe’l utann) ukjit sia’wa’tun ta’n tel-lukwutijik ukjit mesnmk teliknaq Wksankewo’ti aqq teliknaq newtukwa’lukwemk. Ta’n anqateskawekl? Ta’n tetpaqa’qewey weskewita’mk aqq we’jitmk ta’n na melkiknaq lukwaqn telitpiaq ukjit kina’muen ta’n welapetmk ta’n ula kisite’tasikl we’jitasikl kisitasikl ala’tutal msit teliknaq kelpitmk ukjit msit New Brunswickewaq.

The bottom line: sufficient technologies exist today to enable Amlamgog (and other communities) to advance their mission of achieving energy sovereignty and energy independence. The barriers? The regulatory arena and establishment of a strong business case to demonstrate the benefit that these strategically located systems would have on the overall energy security for all New Brunswickers.

What needs to happen?

To advance implementation of distributed energy systems in First Nations communities, this case study proposes a series of recommendations including undertaking a detailed analysis and modelling of the potential benefits, establishing of a regulatory sandbox, and amending the policy and regulatory framework governing electricity in the province of New Brunswick.

Nikana’te’n L’nuey-nikana’tasik Teliknaql Tel-lukwemkl | Prioritize Indigenous-led energy initiatives

Amending provincial energy policy to specifically support First Nations in developing their own energy projects will promote energy sovereignty and economic development. NB Power’s LORESS program, which prioritized small-scale (<20MW) renewable energy projects involving First Nation partners, is an example of what has worked in the past (Government of New Brunswick, 2016). The full evolution would involve creation of mechanisms through which First Nations would have paths to market for their own innovative energy solutions.

We’jite’n aqq Elte’n ta’n Lukwaqn Telitpiaq | Establish and model the business case

A more robust modelling of the net benefit that distributed energy systems could deliver to ratepayers and the provincial grid is required. The Government of New Brunswick or NB Power could commission such a study, in partnership with New Brunswick First Nations and other non-governmental organizations such as Smart Grid Innovation Network (Smart Grid Innovation Network, n.d.). Federal partners such as Natural Resource Canada’s Smart Renewable and Electrification Pathway Program could be a source for funding resources to support this initiative, as could innovation accelerators such as Foresight Canada. Peak demand profiles, grid connection studies, and system integration and controls are all elements that require further study.

We’jite’n Amlamkuk ta’n na Wikimk Wetnu’kwatmkuo’kuo’m aqq Espitasik Kejitoq Maqmikew | Establish Amlamgog as a living lab and technology proving ground

In a similar way that Shediac, New Brunswick became a proving ground for integration of grid-scale solar, behind-the-meter solar coupled with battery energy storage systems, and smart thermostats through the Shediac Smart Energy Community Project, Amlamgog is well advanced and positioned be the host site for integration of a community micro-grid and sustainable energy generation. This ecosystem would be best established as a form of “regulatory sandbox” that allows businesses, especially startups and innovators, but in this case also utilities and private sector partners, to test their products, services, or business models in a controlled environment. The Province of New Brunswick could establish the necessary conditions for such a lab through regulatory amendments.

Wesuwa’tasik ta’n na Iknmuetmk Teliknaq Apoqnmuek Tel-wikasik Telita’simk | Adoption of a distributed energy resource policy mindset

To progress beyond pilot projects, this case study recommends the province adopt and incorporate a community-scale distributed energy resource policy mindset. Amendments to the Electricity Act have been made on several occasions in recent years including Bill 10 (Government of New Brunswick, 2023), which allows for the sale of electricity from a renewable generation facility (i.e., wind farm) directly to a new electricity consumer, and allows for the maximum price NB Power can pay for electricity generated by advanced small modular reactors to be established by regulation. There is a policy framework in place today that allows for “inside the fence” renewable and low-carbon generation at large industrial sites in the province; amendments that establish First Nation communities as being inside the fence is one potential path. Other paths include structures to enable renewable-to-retail such as the Nova Scotia Power Community Solar Garden (Nova Scotia Power – An Emera Company, 2025) or expansion of the net-metering renewable generation to monetize and incentivize excess capacity back to the grid, especially in times of peak demand.

Additional examples of Indigenous-led energy innovation

Across Turtle Island, there are many additional examples of Indigenous-led innovations in the energy transition that are delivering value to society. Key to these projects is a suite of enabling conditions including financial catalysts, legislative amendments, and energy market conditions.

Project	Sree Vyàa (Old Crow Solar Project)	Tu-Deh-Kah Geothermal Project	Montana First Nation Microgrid Project
Location	Old Crow, Yukon	Fort Nelson, British Columbia	Montana First Nation, Alberta
Nation(s) involved	Vuntut Gwitchin First Nation	Fort Nelson First Nation	Montana First Nation
Approach	940 kW DC solar array, a 616-kWh battery energy storage system and micro-grid controller replaced historic reliance on diesel generators.	Generation of 7 to 15 MW of clean electricity through a closed-loop binary geothermal system with Organic Rankine Cycle turbines, sufficient to power around 10,000 homes.	Akamihk Energy, owned by Montana First Nation, will investigate the potential to integrate all electricity distribution infrastructure and service on Montana First Nation’s lands into a consolidated microgrid; manage energy flows within that grid; and meter exchange to the Alberta Interconnected Electric System (AIES)
Impact	Displaces 190,000 liters of diesel fuel annually, reduces annual GHG emissions by 680 tonnes of CO₂ equivalent, and generates $10.5M in revenue for the nation over a 25-year lifespan.	Transformation of existing natural gas field into sustainable geothermal energy facility. Beyond electricity generation, the project plans to leverage excess heat for additional economic activities, such as agriculture, tourism, and heating buildings, thereby promoting energy security and economic growth in the region.	Akamihk Energy is a 100% Montana First Nation owned company and operates as a Rural Electrification Association. The company operates at arm’s length from Montana First Nation Chief and Council. Beyond the power generation benefits to the FN, the business includes agrivoltaics, new home construction and streetlight sales.
Enabling conditions	The Yukon government created pieces of legislation, including necessary independent power producer policy regulations, to make this project possible – demonstrating how governments and communities can partner to unleash opportunity.	As British Columbia’s first 100 per cent Indigenous-owned commercial-scale geothermal power plant, Tu Deh-Kah Geothermal exemplifies Indigenous leadership in sustainable energy development. The permit for this project was granted by the BC Ministry of Energy, Mines and Low Carbon Innovation.	Capacity funding ($1M) from NRCan Smart Renewable and Electrification Pathways Program, and de-regulated energy market
Reference	https://arctic-council.org/news/the-old-crow-solar-project/	https://tudehkah.com	https://akamihkenergy.com

The path forward

[Click to see in English] Ta’n awti ta’n na mu koqoey te’wijuwiktnuk elmi’knik pemiaq sia’wa’sik telo’ltimk L’nuey maqmikew, aqq mu eyktnuk awti ta’n mu koqoey wiaqtektnuk L’nu wiaqa’lut.

Ke’sk na msit wesuwa’tu’tij etek ta’n L’nu’k wiaqa’luj kiskuk na mekwaye’k kikto’qu lukwaqnn ukjit tel-lukwemk piley teliknaq kisitasikl (nkutey Nike’ ta’n Nuweg Teliknaq Kisitasik), na’te’l etek ta’n so’qiaq elukwemk ukjit ta’n Province na New Brunswick aqq ta’n provincial ewe’mek (NB Mlkikno’ti) ukjit lukwen na naji-kikjuk toqi-lukwutimk elt L’nu’k toqo’ma’tiji ukjit kisaptmnew ta’n metuwe’kl lukwaqnikl a’sekek ta’n wasoqenawek nastaqtek kiskuk.

The path to a net-zero carbon future runs through traditional Indigenous territory, and there is no path to net-zero without Indigenous inclusion.

While the generally accepted premise of Indigenous inclusion today is centred around opportunities to participate in new energy developments such as the Nuweg Energy Project, there exists an emerging opportunity for the Province of New Brunswick and the provincial utility (NB Power) to work in closer unison with First Nation partners to solve the difficult challenges facing the electricity grid today.

Distributed energy systems have proven their application and value in several use cases, some of which are explored in this case study.

The hurdles to seeing these systems adopted more broadly, however, are not technological in nature. Rather, it is the electricity market ecosystem in New Brunswick that currently restricts adoption of this type of innovation.

Policy, legislation and regulatory amendments, or alternatively, the creation of a “regulatory sandbox” could accelerate the adoption of innovative energy systems, as one of the tools in the energy transition toolbox.

First Nation communities in New Brunswick, exemplified by Amlamgog, have taken bold first steps in recent years on the journey to a net-zero future. Community energy planning, investments in behind-the-meter energy generation assets, commitments to lowering the energy and carbon footprint of residential and commercial building infrastructure and advancing initiatives including fleet electrification and EV charging infrastructure deployment are some of the early achievements.

With much of the early groundwork already completed, a First Nation like Amlamgog, having been at the forefront of the energy transition already for some time, is now poised to participate fully in the development of policy and regulatory reform to enable broad integration of distributed energy systems in the New Brunswick market. If enabled, benefits could be realized across the entire provincial grid.

First Nations are already demonstrating what sustainable communities of the future will look like. It is time to break down the barriers to this force of innovation for the benefit of all Canadians. Who better to lead than our First Nations?

Work cited

CBC. (2021, October 21). Fort Folly First Nation makes big switch to solar energy. Retrieved from https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/new-brunswick/fort-folly-solar-energy-1.6218146

CBC. (2022, September 16). Mi’kmaw community hopes net-zero building reduces carbon footprint and saves money. Retrieved from https://www.cbc.ca/news/indigenous/mi-kmaq-net-zero-building-1.6583720

Conservation Council of New Brunswick. (2023, May). Wind Energy is Reliable: Debunking Claims that Wind Power Failed New Brunswickers when they Needed it Most. Retrieved from https://www.conservationcouncil.ca/wp-content/uploads/2023/05/Wind-energy-is-reliable.pdf

Government of Canada. (2025, January). Registered Population – Fort Folly. Retrieved from https://fnp-ppn.aadnc-aandc.gc.ca/fnp/Main/Search/FNRegPopulation.aspx?BAND_NUMBER=9&lang=eng

Government of New Brunswick. (2013, June 21). New Brunswick Electricity Act.

National Indigenous Nations and Electrification: Strategy to Accelerate Indigenous Ownership of Net Aero Infrastructure in Canada, First Nations Major Projects Coalition https://fnmpc.ca/tools-and-resources/reports-publications/

Natural Forces Solar. (2024). Fort Folly First Nation. Retrieved from https://naturalforcessolar.ca/commercial/fort-folly-first-nation/

NB Power. (2024). Shediac Smart Energy Community Project. Retrieved from https://www.nbpower.com/en/grid-modernization/smart-grid-atlantic/shediac-smart-energy-community-project/

New Brunswick Energy and Utilities Board. (2025). Retrieved from https://nbeub.ca.

New Brunswick Power. (2023). 2023 Integrated Resource Plan: Pathways to a Net-Zero Electricity System. Retrieved from https://www.nbpower.com/en/about-us/our-energy/integrated-resource-plan

New Brunswick Power. (2023). First Nations Energy Efficiency Program Guidelines.

New Brunswick Power. (2023, February 10). NB Power inviting interested New Brunswickers to submit Expression of Interest for Wind, Solar, Tidal Power and Storage Solutions. Retrieved from https://www.nbpower.com/en/about-us/news-media-centre/news/2023/nb-power-inviting-interested-new-brunswickers-to-submit-expression-of-interest-for-wind-solar-tidal-power-and-storage-solutions/

New Brunswick Power. (2024, January 17). Neweg Energy Project: Leading the Way to a Sustainable Energy Future in New Brunswick. Retrieved from https://www.nbpower.com/en/about-us/news-media-centre/news/2024/neweg-energy-project-leading-the-way-to-a-sustainable-energy-future-in-new-brunswick/

New Brunswick Power. (2024). Our Energy. Retrieved from https://www.nbpower.com/en/about-us/our-energy.

New Brunswick Power. (2024, June 26). Request for Expression of Interest- Renewable Integration and Grid Security REOI.

North Bay Hydro. (n.d.). Community Energy Park – How It Works. Retrieved from http://www.communityenergypark.ca

Quest Canada. (2024, May). Fort Folly First Nation Community Energy Assessment.

Quest Canada. (2024, April 15). Summary of Community Energy and Emissions Plan Development Workshop.

Smart Grid Innovation Network (SGIN). (2025). Distributed Energy Resources – Fundamentals.

Unlocking Canada’s stranded renewable energies

The authors dedicate this paper to the late Byron LeClair. His efforts made this work possible.

Introduction

In uncertain times, one thing is clear: Canada’s Indigenous communities will play a pivotal role in the evolving clean energy transition. A recent Canadian Climate Institute piece shows that this process of sustainability-rooted economic reconciliation is well underway; the last few decades have seen a surge in Indigenous clean energy generation projects. But times are changing, and Indigenous entities are now playing important roles in other aspects of the energy transition beyond generation hallmarks like solar, run-of-river hydroelectricity, and wind. That necessary evolution includes the commissioning of new transmission infrastructure. The excerpt below from the above mentioned 2022 Canadian Climate Institute Waves of Change Report confirms the emerging Indigenization of transmission, and that this increase in Indigenous electricity transmission participation is not some abstract, theoretical, or wishfully normative future:

The 2015–2020 period also saw a significant rise in Indigenous participation in electricity transmission projects. A total of 19 such projects are now completed or in construction, including some linked to grid access for major projects (e.g., La Romaine Hydro, Quebec), off-grid community interconnection (e.g., Wataynikaneyap Power, Ontario), and grid strengthening (e.g., Bipole III, Manitoba).

Notably, Indigenous organizations are participating in these capital-intensive sectors as leaders and majority owners. In this new participatory environment, additional community-rooted, policymaker-focused commentary is necessary. There are legal, social, economic, and (of special relevance here, given the fora) environmental benefits associated with Indigenous inclusion in new transmission lines. It is essential that Canadian policy leaders carefully consider these benefits when determining the best way to allocate scarce time and money towards Indigenous economic reconciliation and climate change mitigation—two defining challenges for Canada in the 21st century.

[Click here to see the English version] Ōma nīhithaw kakīskīkīmowin-masinahikan ikīmasinahikātīk, kawīcihikocik omistikōsiwak, aniki kātoskātākwāw pithīsīskotīw, ka-kiskīthītākwāw īsi nīhithawak ka-mitho-wītatoskīmīcik, īsi nīhithawak kā-isi-nistōtākwāw ōmītowak atoskīwin.

With these trends in mind, the following Indigenous Perspective is oriented towards maintaining momentum around Indigenous participation in transmission infrastructure – with an eye to pragmatic options that might accelerate existing progress.

We see our work as partially addressing an imbalance in the energy transition literature towards Indigenous engagement in clean electricity generation. This historical (over)emphasis, while laudable and understandable, needs to now expand to include transmission (as well as other relevant topics spanning the electricity value chain, such as electricity distribution). Extensive research highlights that Indigenous leadership and participation is possible across multiple dimensions of the complex energy transition (see here for our most recent work on this topic, and here for past work on novel Indigenous transmission ideas). We emphasize in this piece concrete and realistic conceptual foundations for policymakers keen to advance Indigenous-inclusive electricity projects that broadly benefit Canadians.

Who we are

Led by Frank Busch, the first ‘treaty status’ CEO of a Canadian Tier 1 publicly traded company, this perspective integrates an Indigenous viewpoint rooted in, and corroborated by, the thoughts and experiences of the collaborating authors. We open this section by emphasizing the following: this Indigenous perspective is an informed, but highly person(s)-specific perspective rooted in Indigenous community energy and economic development practices. Moreover, it is not the defining perspective for every community. In fact, it is not even to be taken as the collective perspective of Busch’s home of Nisichawayasihk (Nee-chise-away-a-see) Cree Nation. Instead, it is our hope this work contributes to a budding Indigenous-led dialogue around the non-generation aspects of clean energy transformation.

As a team of both Indigenous and non-Indigenous authors, we seek to provide what our practitioner and academic experiences suggest are select best practices for communities navigating what their participation in Canada’s transmission future will ultimately entail. Our recommendations are conscious of select theory and extant literature while remaining anchored in practice (with a special grounding in both the lived experiences and direct observations of the lead author).

As just some examples of the background on which we will be drawing, Busch has visited over 300 Indigenous communities over the last two decades, while others members of the authorship team have lived in remote communities (Krupa) or supported Indigenous-led environmental assessments in Western Canada (Hanna – see Nishima-Miller et al.). This work synthesizes these decades of energy transition and community development experience and is, in turn, supplemented by literature-based and/or real-world examples spanning early-stage feasibility testing to long-term operations.

Why transmission matters—and why Indigenous ownership is a rare triple win in energy markets

The implementation of the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP), which Canada has signed, mandates that all electricity transmission projects planned for Canada’s goal of achieving net zero emissions by 2050 must involve Indigenous consultation, equity participation, and/or construction participation. Even in 2025, many Indigenous communities remain reliant on expensive, often unreliable, and occasionally dangerous diesel-generated electricity that inhibits Nation-led efforts to expand local economies and provide better opportunities for young people. This status quo, which stems at least in part from transmission gaps, culminates in what van de Biezenbos calls Canada’s energy persistent poverty. As van de Biezenbos points out, this not only creates unacceptable energy injustice, but also stifles much-needed economic growth. Energy persistent poverty is unlikely to change without new thinking around transmission projects in particular.

Beyond the sound sociolegal basis for new transmission efforts outlined thus far, the climate-related motivation for increasing analysis on Indigenous-friendly electricity transmission projects is similarly clear. This could be executed under a wide array of scenarios: expansions of existing planned or mid-term intraprovincial lines, ties facilitating greater interprovincial electricity trade, additional lines connecting Canada to the United States, or even (more theoretical) long-distance intraprovincial connections between sparsely populated, but clean electricity-rich, regions and the industrial heartlands or urban areas where extra electricity supply is needed. The clean energy transition is commonly envisioned as an exercise in commissioning much greater levels of wind, solar, and hydroelectricity resources. However, without adequate transmission interconnections, renewable energy generation outputs (many of which are situated in distant places full of excellent wind resources or sunny skies) have nowhere to go. Although underappreciated, transmission is the anchor for realizing lofty climate change ambitions.

Canadian research shows systemic cost efficiencies and emission abatement potential associated with transmission expansion and interconnection, such as better value extraction from existing clean energy assets and enhancing the value of carbon pricing policies. As elucidated in the important paper The cost of decarbonizing the Canadian electricity system, transmission also offers one of the lowest cost emission reduction options for Canadians.

[Click here to see the English version] ōma pithīsīskotīw atoskīwin ōta ministik kānata kwayask mistahi atoskīwin, mistahi mīna ikota oci kakī-sōniyākipathiw māka, poko nīhithawak kawītatoskīmīcik.

Put simply, unlocking Canada’s renewable electricity potential requires significant investment in transmission, and transmission can only proceed with Indigenous inclusion.

Of course, achieving optimal outcomes is easier said than done. The reality is that constructing transmission lines is lengthy and arduous work. Power transmission involves enormous capital outlays, the ability to marshal and organize a diverse team of professionals (legal, technical, and others) over multi-year or even decadal time frames, and the capacity to overcome a remarkable array of different obstacles. Of concern, the historical record of enhanced transmission integration (such as in Busch’s home province of Manitoba) suggests that ultimate environmental outcomes are not uniformly beneficial. While such constraints and downsides are well beyond the scope of this short case study, we wanted to ensure they are acknowledged upfront as we move towards concrete starting points for policymakers in particular to consider.

Pragmatic next steps for policymakers to support Indigenous-centric transmission integration

Many Indigenous communities are seeking greater opportunities to develop local, sustainable, and environmentally-sound economies, as well as increase access to employment opportunities for community members via revenue-bearing assets that can improve a nation’s financial standing. The following constitute five specific recommendations, all of which overlap with the much lengthier series of recommendations provided in the recent First Nations Major Project Coalition’s National Indigenous Electrification Strategy. We offer the following recommendations as starting points for Indigenous-linked policymakers to consider as possible ways forward in achieving greater economic and political sovereignty for their energy futures.

Piyak-kakīskīkīmowin: kāpacītāniwaki ōki “5 Cs” masinahikan
Recommendation 1: Implement the ‘5 Cs’ framework

In the 2012 paper Identifying barriers to Aboriginal renewable energy deployment in Canada, Krupa outlined the fundamentals to a successful Indigenous renewable energy deployment framework. It was noted at that time that it is critical to focus on three ‘Cs’—cash (capital), clarity (specifically regulatory and policy), and capacity (particularly within communities and on-reserve). Increasing access to capital remains the overarching priority for Indigenous communities looking for opportunities in renewable energy, as does improving regulatory and policy clarity for community leadership. There also remains a need to build in-community capacity across a range of domains (human, as already noted, but also technical, financial, and otherwise).

Over the last decade, we have expanded the ‘3 Cs’ framework to include corruption-less and community champions to form the ‘5 Cs’. The first is self-explanatory, while the second calls for ongoing innovation within communities to ensure the effective seeding and nurturing of community visionaries capable of enacting difficult long-term planning.

Such concepts are rooted in Busch’s on-the-ground experience, as well as Krupa’s multiple years spent working for, and living in, Biigtigong Nishnaabeg (formerly the Ojibways of the Pic River First Nation), one of the earliest pioneers in the Indigenous clean energy space. This journey, chronicled in Blazing a new path forward: A case study on the renewable energy initiatives of the Pic River First Nation, made clear time and again the remarkable benefits of leadership from that community’s champion: the late Byron LeClair. (LeClair’s role, specifically, is affirmed in foundational texts like Henderson’s Aboriginal Power: Clean Energy and the Future of Canada’s First Peoples). Leclair’s tenacity and dedication played an outsized role in an eventual clean energy portfolio that included, among other achievements, one of the nation’s first wholly Indigenous-owned run-of-river hydroelectric sites.

[Click here to see the English version] Aniki nīhithaw-itāwina āsay kā-sōki-atoskāsocik, iyakwani mwāci kāmithokāpawicik ispihk ōma pithīsīskotīw-atoskīwin pikiskwācikātīki, iyakwani nīkān kakī-pīkiskwātīcik.

High capacity communities with knowledgeable and competent champions at the helm are the most critical catalyzers for Indigenous electricity transmission projects.

Nīso-kakīskīkīmowin: kanistawinikātīk nīhithaw kiskinwāhamākīwina, nīhithaw itāwina anohc kā-isi-pimipathītāniwaki, mīna īsi ōma pithīsīskotīw-atoskīwin kātī-isi-wathasowācikātīk.
Recommendation 2: Acknowledge the alignment between Indigenous values, contemporary Indigenous communities, and electricity transmission planning

We should be skeptical of attempts to present a homogenous ‘Indigenous’ voice across the array of voices that must define all 21st century attempts to engage with Indigenous Peoples. Nevertheless, it is fair to say there are at least two common themes that tend to unite Indigenous communities:

There is a desire to preserve environmental integrity, which may manifest at a variety of different levels (e.g. global, regional or territorial).
Indigenous communities are bonded to the land in numerous ways: physically, emotionally, spiritually. Paired with this stability is the relatively low likelihood of substantial immigration inflows to many Indigenous communities—particularly in the remote areas who may be positively impacted by transmission projects.

Put another way, the characteristics of electricity transmission projects (notably their long time span, minimal impact on land compared to other infrastructure projects, and ability to facilitate more renewable and clean technology integration) align with general Indigenous values: protecting the land and living in close, respectful relation to it. Other transmission line characteristics (such as their job creation potential and physical presence in remote areas) align with modern day Indigenous community characteristics.

As a result, it is worth noting that decarbonization-friendly transmission is likely to be preferred by communities versus fossil fuel alternatives, except in the case where no other attractive alternatives are available. In the case of the proposed Ksi Lisims floating liquefied natural gas (LNG) facility that is spearheaded by the Nisga’a Nation, Waters shows tensions exist between Indigenous groups over LNG development. Clearly, it is difficult to ask communities to forego economic empowerment for the sake of system-wide environmental benefits. Recognizing the presence of this tension and balance—and working hard to offer compelling environmentally beneficial alternatives to more environmentally impactful projects—is a key area for policymakers to focus on.

[Click here to see the English version] Owathasowītinowak poko kamiskawācik aniki nīhithawak kā-nōtī-wītatoskīmīcik, aniki nīhithawak pimiy-atoskīwin kā-nōtī-atoskātākwāw- ōma transmission-atoskīwin kākī-māci-atoskācikātīw.

Policymakers need to work to find attractive alternative options for Nations considering fossil fuel development—starting with transmission.

Nisto-Kakīskīkīmowin: manācītāk nīhithaw kiskīthītamowin, kistīthīta īsi kēhtē-ayak kā-isi-kiskīthītākwāw.
Recommendation 3: Prioritize the perspectives of Indigenous knowledge keepers and Elders

The indispensable role of knowledge keepers and Elders in guiding a major community milestone like transmission participation can be easy to overlook in the excitement of pursuing a new project. This is a process that can be hands-on, with the flexibility to incorporate it into any stage of the project lifecycle, including the very early stages. The tangible financial benefits that such an approach might deliver should not be underestimated. For example, long-time proponents (themselves Indigenous) from Five Nations Energy in northern Ontario focused on involving Elders in scoping the ultimate project route from transmission lines through geomorphologically-complex terrain.

Busch has seen first hand the development of a novel participatory process in the construction of the Wuskwatim Generating Station, a $1.3 billion 200 megawatt hydro dam, and an accompanying $300 million transmission line built in partnership between the Nisichawayasihk Cree Nation and Manitoba Hydro. In the development of the project, recognized Elders were hired on as community consultants and assisted in site selection, ingress/egress, and community engagement alongside engineers and other professionals. While experts were skeptical at first, it soon became apparent that synergies were occurring based on the community consultants’ knowledge of the land and local residents, combined with sound scientific practices and engineering.

In addition to these meaningful technical contributions, there were social license benefits as well. Manitoba Hydro staff knew that they were walking into a hostile environment, as many community members harboured anger and resentment towards the provincial power utility due to the Churchill River Diversion project in the early 1970s. Without the community consultants to make introductions, it is likely many community members would have avoided meaningfully engaging with Manitoba Hydro (or even opted to forego engagement altogether). Through careful community dialogue and supportive public education, the citizens of Nisichawayasihk Cree Nation began to see the project as an economic and educational opportunity. The project was eventually successfully completed in 2006, creating a new pathway for future hydroelectric projects in Manitoba (including the $8.7 billion 695 megawatt Keeyask Project, completed in May 2022).

[Click here to see the English version] Owathasowītino-masinahikīwak, nawac kakī-pimicisāhakwāw nīhithaw kiskīthītamowin ispihk kākithaw ōma pithīsīskotīw-atoskīwin atoskācikātīki -ispihk mīna transmission-atoskīwin atoskācikātīki.

Policymakers should better incorporate knowledge keeper knowledge in every stage of the clean technology value chain—including transmission.

Nīyo-kakīskīkīmowin: kinawāpāta kākithaw atoskīwina kāmitho-kīsītāniwaki ōta ministik-kānata mīna opimī
Recommendation 4: Look at what successful projects have done both in Canada and beyond

Instructive examples of successful projects do exist. The first and most obvious departure point is for communities to strategically capitalize on opportunities via consortium partnership models that involve multiple communities, while also delivering clear value to other stakeholders groups such as ratepayers or environmental advocates. It’s the “we can go further together” principle. And it can happen!

A factsheet from the major investor-owned utility NextEra Energy demonstrates several core principles for this sort of success in a brief case study on Northern Ontario’s East-West Tie along the north shore of Lake Superior. First, at a very basic level, the East-West Tie’s 450-kilometre line—described as “one of the largest investments in the electricity system in Northwestern Ontario in decades”—facilitated the ongoing expansion of capacity (including clean electricity asset investments) to the region. This could include projects such as solar, wind, and run-of-river hydro, as well as potential decarbonization opportunities for the future, such as the novel Chigamiwinigum Falls project located within both Pukaskwa National Park and the Biigtigong Nishnaabeg’s traditional territory. This $777-million project worked to involve myriad Indigenous and non-Indigenous communities along the line, with Indigenous communities given the ability to participate in terms of both equity and jobs from construction and operations. Finally, this competitively procured line offered excellent reliability and flexibility benefits for ratepayers, while also unlocking new industrial sector opportunities.

A second example from the U.S. is also worth highlighting: new tribal financing pioneered through Biden-era flagship clean energy legislation. The Biden Administration’s Greenhouse Gas Reduction Fund and Loans Program Office provided capacity building and technical assistance, as well as resources on financing tribal energy projects—ranging from support for the inclusion of commercial lenders to incorporating de-risking tools like loan guarantees across a wide range of projects.

Closer to home, projects such as the Wataynikaneyap (or “Watay”) transmission line not only helped electrify communities along its corridor, but also supported environmental betterment via reduced diesel usage and potential for enhanced renewable energies integration and general economic growth, which may include critical mineral extraction opportunities that can support decarbonization technologies. This is only a handful of ideas; there’s an abundance of lessons learned now available. Future proponents would do well to do their homework.

[Click here to see the English version] Owathasowītino-masinahikīwak poko kakinawāpātākwāw aniki atoskīwina kākī-mitho-kīsītāniwaki, mīna ispihk kāti-māci-wathasowācikātīki nīhithaw-kiskinōtawi-masinahikana, kamamitonīthīcikātīki aniki āsay kākī-mitho-atoskācikātīki -mīna, aniki kīkwāya namwāc kākī-mithopathiki atoskīwina.

Policymakers need to build off past successes, and when structuring frameworks for Indigenous participation, be mindful of what has worked—and, perhaps even more importantly, what has not worked.

Niyānan kakīskīmowin: kākiskīthīcikātīk, kākithaw nīhithawak pītos isi-atoskīwak.
Recommendation 5: Avoid prescriptive participation—Tailor methods to fit the setting

Raising finance at the scale needed for involvement in transmission can be daunting, though it’s clearly possible. In our home province of British Columbia (B.C.), $36 billion in planned transmission and distribution projects through BC Hydro could entail important opportunities for Indigenous proponents, and would build upon the approximately $3 billion in Indigenous clean energy project ownership announced in December 2024 by the B.C. Government.

This means that communities must remain flexible regarding how benefits from a transmission project ultimately take shape. These benefits might include construction jobs, either at the outset or throughout the project’s lifespan, or equity opportunities, allowing communities to hold a significant ownership stake, depending on available human and financial capital. Hydro One’s pledge to enable 50 per cent equity ownership for Indigenous nations in new Ontario transmission lines is one example that could reduce risk for Indigenous partners, industry, and lenders alike. Regardless of the final arrangement, transmission projects can offer a broad range of employment opportunities—from professional roles, such as project managers overseeing multi-year builds, to skilled trades and polytechnical positions like lineworkers maintaining reliable operations.

Participatory agnosticism also extends to the scale of the project pursued. For example, some communities may be keen to realize energy interconnection, others to support energy sovereignty, and yet others to access economic gain. But all must be pragmatic about the financeability of the project. Is there policy and regulatory clarity, ideally supported by policy de-risking tools such as loan guarantees? Could a deep-pocketed co-proponent provide financing, or are there other creative financing options, such as syndication, private capital, or others, available? Are there credible internal and/or external experts available to secure the best terms, optimize the accounting, and spearhead responsible corporate governance? Honest, frank conversations need to be had in deciding how best to facilitate Indigenous involvement.

[Click here to see the English version] Namōtha kākithaw nīhithawak kakī-isi-pamiyāwak. Kisowāk kakī-wītatoskīmīcik nīhithawak. Īta kākaskītāniwak, kamitho-sītoskācik nīhithawak, nawac kamitho-wīcihisocik.

Policymakers need to avoid homogenous solutions to heterogeneous communities, and, where possible, close gaps in capacity to ensure a level playing field.

Final thoughts

We would be remiss not to repeat our earlier point that, like all infrastructure, electricity transmission has its impacts. These impacts can be physical, substantially altering the landscape (the impacts of Manitoba Hydro projects on Indigenous communities is particularly instructive in this regard). They can also be social or emotional, shaping and changing the way a community interacts with their traditional territory. Policymakers should do whatever possible to ensure new projects are built with economic, social, and environmental considerations (not necessarily in that order) in mind.

Yet despite these issues, we remain optimistic and hopeful about the future of Indigenous-inclusive transmission projects in Canada. As emphasized earlier, we have developed this short perspective as a team of Indigenous and non-Indigenous practitioners and scholars. Indigenous communities across Canada could facilitate the development of the transmission infrastructure backbone for a clean energy revolution, and in 2025 and beyond, unpacking the nexus of Indigeneity and transmission expansion is a critical decarbonization research priority. Including Indigenous voices and perspectives will be central to both the global and Canadian energy transitions.

This is not a simple question of altruism; it is a legal reality. Nor is it a question of seeking out enthusiasm. Indigenous people have seen the success of certain hydroelectric and transmission groups in action, such as the late Chief Billy Diamond’s work in Quebec (as outlined by MacGregor’s 1989 book Chief), and are acutely aware that much more needs to happen much faster. We emphasize the somewhat atypical economic-social-environmental “win-win-win” nature of Indigenous clean energy market participation via transmission expansion. It is essential that Indigenous perspectives become part of foundational planning for energy transmission across Canada; without such collaboration and partnerships it will be difficult to create the energy prosperity and opportunities Canada needs.

Acknowledgments

The authors thank Naoko Ellis, Derek Gladwin, Maria Shallard, Jessie Sitnick, Jason Dion, Grace Donnelly, & Avery Valez for their comments and ideas, especially in the early stages of drafting this piece. The authors take full responsibility for any and all errors in this piece. Krupa’s work was supported by Mitacs through the Mitacs Accelerate program. Krupa also acknowledges support from Accelerating Community Energy Transformation, through the Canada First Research Excellence Fund. The funding sources had no role in any aspect of writing this piece. All the views expressed, and all errors, remain the responsibility of the authors. Busch, Krupa, and Hanna further affirm that all views expressed herein represent the perspectives of the authors, and are therefore not to be taken as representative of the views of any organization(s) with which they were/are affiliated in the past, present, and/or future. Finally, Krupa and Busch would like to especially thank Adita Ortega Perez and Angie Busch, who provided a great deal of support in making sure this Indigenous Perspective crossed the finish line.

References

Bennett, N. (2024, December 2). B.C. First Nations want in on power transmission development. Business in Vancouver. https://www.biv.com/news/resources-agriculture/bc-first-nations-want-in-on-power-transmission-development-9896205

Canadian Climate Institute. (2022). Waves of change: Indigenous clean energy leadership for Canada’s clean, electric future. Retrieved from https://climateinstitute.ca/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/ICE-report-ENGLISH-FINAL.pdf

CBC News. (2014, July 16). Pic River First Nation plans hydroelectric plant in national park. CBC News. https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/thunder-bay/pic-river-first-nation-plans-hydroelectric-plant-in-national-park-1.2710039

Dolter, B., Fellows, G. K., & Rivers, N. (2022). The cost effectiveness of new reservoir hydroelectricity: British Columbia’s Site C project. Energy Policy, 169, 113161. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.enpol.2022.113161

Dolter, B., & Rivers, N. (2018). The cost of decarbonizing the Canadian electricity system. Energy Policy, 113, 135-148. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.enpol.2017.10.040

English, J., Niet, T., Lyseng, B., Palmer-Wilson, K., Keller, V., Moazzen, I., Pitt, L., Wild, P., & Rowe, A. (2017). Impact of electrical intertie capacity on carbon policy effectiveness. Energy Policy, 101, 571-581. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.enpol.2016.10.026

First Nations Major Projects Coalition. (2024, April 22). National Indigenous Electrification Strategy [PDF]. https://fnmpc.ca/wp-content/uploads/FNMPC_National_Electrification_digital_final_04222024.pdf

Gale, S., & Gladu, J. P. (2024, October 2). Indigenous nations are key to powering Ontario. National Observer. https://www.nationalobserver.com/2024/10/02/opinion/indigenous-nations-are-key-powering-ontario

Government of British Columbia. (2024, December 9). New wind projects will boost B.C.’s affordable clean-energy supply [News release]. https://news.gov.bc.ca/releases/2024ECS0048-001643

Government of Canada. (2024, November 26). United Nations Declaration on the rights of Indigenous Peoples Act. https://laws-lois.justice.gc.ca/eng/acts/u-2.2/page-1.html

Harvey, L. D. D. (2013). The potential of wind energy to largely displace existing Canadian fossil fuel and nuclear electricity generation. Energy, 50, 93-102. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.energy.2012.12.008

Henderson, C. (2013). Aboriginal power: Clean energy and the future of Canada’s First Peoples. Rainforest Editions.

Hydro One. (n.d.). Indigenous relations. Retrieved April 15, 2025, from https://www.hydroone.com/about/indigenous-relations

Keeyask Hydropower Limited Partnership. (n.d.). The project. https://keeyask.com/the-project/

Krupa, J. (2012a). Blazing a new path forward: A case study on the renewable energy initiatives of the pic river first nation. Environmental Development, 3, 109-122. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.envdev.2012.05.003

Krupa, J. (2012b). Identifying barriers to aboriginal renewable energy deployment in Canada. Energy Policy, 42(1), 710-714. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.enpol.2011.12.051

Krupa, J. (2013). Realizing truly sustainable development: A proposal to expand aboriginal ‘price adders’ beyond Ontario electricity generation projects. Utilities Policy, 26, 85-87. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jup.2012.07.008

Krupa, J., Busch, F., Gladwin, D., & Ellis, N. (2025). Financing clean technologies within Canada’s indigenous communities: Perspectives on sustainable energy transition from practitioners and academics. Energy, 322, 134930. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.energy.2025.134930

MacGregor, R. (1989). Chief: The fearless vision of Billy Diamond. Viking.

NextEra Energy. (2023, September 15). Transmission line continues to empower Indigenous communities and enhance electricity reliability in Ontario. NextEra Energy Newsroom. https://newsroom.nexteraenergy.com/Transmission-line-continues-to-empower-Indigenous-communities-and-enhance-electricity-reliability-in-Ontario?l=12

NextEra Energy Transmission Canada. (2022). East-West Tie Transmission Project fact sheet [PDF]. https://www.nexteraenergycanada.com/content/dam/neecanada/ca/en/pdf/east-west-tie-transmission/EWT-Fact-Sheet-FINAL.pdf

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Waters, S. (2024, May 6). B.C.’s second-largest LNG project is one you’ve probably never heard of: Ksi Lisims. The Narwhal. https://thenarwhal.ca/bc-ksi-lisims-lng-facility-explainer/

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Who pays for stranded costs in underutilized gas distribution systems?

Download the scoping paper

The Road to Net Zero Electricity in Saskatchewan

Up to the challenge: Achieving a net zero grid in Alberta

A net zero future for Manitoba through bigger, cleaner, smarter electricity

Beyond Sustainability: The Power of Indigenous Healthy Energy Homes

A new approach to housing in Indigenous communities could improve health outcomes for Indigenous Peoples. It could unlock multiple benefits including: reduced healthcare costs, emissions reductions and savings for households.

Download the scoping paper

Challenges with the housing landscape in Indigenous communities

Current approaches to Indigenous housing are rooted in a colonial legacy. This has resulted in unhealthy housing conditions such as poor ventilation, overcrowding, and homes that are unsuitable for their location or environment.

For decades, Indigenous Peoples have raised concerns that inadequate and unsafe housing in communities aggravates or causes respiratory, cardiovascular, and mental health illnesses. Climate change impacts such as heat waves worsen both unsafe housing conditions and related health challenges.

Figure 2: The links between Indigenous community housing and health

This figure shows the links between Indigenous community housing and health. It shows the challenges, implications and consequences of Indigenous homes in the current housing market.

While several factors play a role, governance and accountability challenges are the core issues of these health and housing challenges. They undermine relevant and sufficient investment in Indigenous community housing.

A new approach to Indigenous housing

The housing situation in Indigenous communities has been a long-standing problem. It will continue unless all orders of government not only provide further investments of time and money but, most importantly, take a different and more coordinated, holistic approach to address this issue. The multiple benefits of Healthy Energy Homes make them a worthwhile and smart investment, which could help to drive down healthcare costs while supporting the well-being and health of future generations.

The Healthy Energy Homes project is a partnership between the Canadian Climate Institute’s Indigenous Research stream and Indigenous Clean Energy. It shows how a new approach to housing could address many of these challenges. It could unlock multiple benefits if housing strategies and funding decisions take a holistic view of housing issues and are developed in partnership with Indigenous communities.

The first scoping paper in this project, Beyond Sustainability: The Power of Healthy Energy Homes, sets the foundation for the broader series. It provides important context to both the challenges and innovative solutions linked to housing in Indigenous communities.

The second report, planned for spring 2025, will focus on the policy changes and recommendations that could support building more Healthy Energy Homes in Indigenous communities.

Background and context

Getting to know the Ring of Fire

Getting to know the legal landscape

International law and getting to “consent”

Impact assessment law and application to mining projects

Provincial mining laws and regressive amendments

Case study analysis

Land-based mobilization, ceremony, and advocacy

Insights and challenges from the grassroots mobilization

Policy recommendations

Recommendation 1: Recognize and support Indigenous declarations of lands protection

ᒋᒌ ᐄᑐᑕᒃᓅᒡ 3: ᐁᐦ ᐃᑕᔥᑌᔪᑕᒃᓅᒡ ᐄᔨᔫᒡ ᐆᐐᔗᐎᓂᐅᐗᐅ ᐊᓐᑌᐦ ᐄᔥᐸᒥᒡ ᐁᐅᒡ ᓇᓈᑲᑎᔥᑕᑲᓄᐐᒡ᙮ | Recommendation 3: Respect Indigenous assertions of sovereignty

Conclusion

Mozag kijenenimanan, tedago nogom tija nanegadjitog | Moose are our relatives, and they are in trouble

Moz eja kikindagozag ena pagidjishewog | The cause of moose decline

Agonen ke postowig ki-tcimankag? Kan Kitchi-ogima o’wesagindamowin kida tagosonan aji | What do we want to bring with us in our canoe? Solutions cannot perpetuate colonial harm

Mitchogozi odanakonagewin odimbabdon Anishnabe Inindamowin eja kijagabidag Od’aki | Colonial laws and policies disrupt our traditional ways of caring for the Land

Aki eja kwikitamigog kina kiga animegomin | Climate change affects us all

Oshi Nigansodewin kija ojitowig Aki eja Kwiktamigog nogom | Treaty renewal under climate change

Eshpin kijigabidameg nigansodewin, panama nitim Anishnabe eja kendik aki kida mamwisemagin | The first step toward treaty renewal: A community-led forum for knowledge sharing

Conclusion

Overview

Introducing Quw’utsun Kw’atl’kwa Enterprises

Quw’utsun Mustimuhw

Quw’utsun Kw’atl’kwa Enterprises: Facing critical crossroads

Theoretical framework

Methodology

Participants

Data collection methods

Key learnings and thematic findings

Finding 1The cumulative impact of environmental challenges are behind fish stock decline

Finding 2The cultural significance of fishing bridges past and present, people and nature

Finding 3Adaptation strategies and regulations must work together

Recommendations

Recommendation 1Advocate for comprehensive environmental and industrial impact assessments

Recommendation 2Lead an ecosystem mapping initiative

Recommendation 3Establish climate-resilient partnership programs

Conclusion

References

Introduction in Mi’kmaq, New Brunswick dialect

Distributed energy systems

Distributed energy systems and the regulatory arena

Amlamgog (Fort Folly First Nation)—Leadership from the forefront of the energy transition

Taking the next steps – Integration of distributed energy systems in Amlamgog

What needs to happen?

Additional examples of Indigenous-led energy innovation

The path forward

Work cited

Introduction

Who we are

Why transmission matters—and why Indigenous ownership is a rare triple win in energy markets

Pragmatic next steps for policymakers to support Indigenous-centric transmission integration

Piyak-kakīskīkīmowin: kāpacītāniwaki ōki “5 Cs” masinahikanRecommendation 1: Implement the ‘5 Cs’ framework

Nisto-Kakīskīkīmowin: manācītāk nīhithaw kiskīthītamowin, kistīthīta īsi kēhtē-ayak kā-isi-kiskīthītākwāw.Recommendation 3: Prioritize the perspectives of Indigenous knowledge keepers and Elders

Nīyo-kakīskīkīmowin: kinawāpāta kākithaw atoskīwina kāmitho-kīsītāniwaki ōta ministik-kānata mīna opimīRecommendation 4: Look at what successful projects have done both in Canada and beyond

Niyānan kakīskīmowin: kākiskīthīcikātīk, kākithaw nīhithawak pītos isi-atoskīwak.Recommendation 5: Avoid prescriptive participation—Tailor methods to fit the setting

Final thoughts

Acknowledgments

References

Challenges with the housing landscape in Indigenous communities

A new approach to Indigenous housing

Finding 1
The cumulative impact of environmental challenges are behind fish stock decline

Finding 2
The cultural significance of fishing bridges past and present, people and nature

Finding 3
Adaptation strategies and regulations must work together

Recommendation 1
Advocate for comprehensive environmental and industrial impact assessments

Recommendation 2
Lead an ecosystem mapping initiative

Recommendation 3
Establish climate-resilient partnership programs

Piyak-kakīskīkīmowin: kāpacītāniwaki ōki “5 Cs” masinahikan
Recommendation 1: Implement the ‘5 Cs’ framework

Nisto-Kakīskīkīmowin: manācītāk nīhithaw kiskīthītamowin, kistīthīta īsi kēhtē-ayak kā-isi-kiskīthītākwāw.
Recommendation 3: Prioritize the perspectives of Indigenous knowledge keepers and Elders

Nīyo-kakīskīkīmowin: kinawāpāta kākithaw atoskīwina kāmitho-kīsītāniwaki ōta ministik-kānata mīna opimī
Recommendation 4: Look at what successful projects have done both in Canada and beyond

Niyānan kakīskīmowin: kākiskīthīcikātīk, kākithaw nīhithawak pītos isi-atoskīwak.
Recommendation 5: Avoid prescriptive participation—Tailor methods to fit the setting