Field camp in Hudson Strait_Cody Dey

Canada is flying blind into Arctic conservation

A lack of biological science means that a precautionary approach is needed in the North

The Canadian government is in the final stages of drafting its Arctic Policy Framework, a sweeping document that will guide federal strategy across four million square kilometers of Canadian territory.

A key part of the framework will be a commitment to “conserving Arctic biodiversity through science-based decision making.” It’s a laudable promise, but one ultimately doomed to failure. Despite massive financial investments in Arctic research, the size and remoteness of the region has limited scientists who want to study it. Data on Arctic biodiversity is still extremely limited, and if we want to protect polar bears and snowy owls, we will need to do so with limited scientific backing.

In the face of scarce scientific data, enshrining the precautionary principle as a fundamental part of Canada’s Arctic Policy Framework would be a prudent step, signalling  that we recognize the limitations of our knowledge and the risks of leaping before we look. Cautiously approaching development in the face of uncertainty is the only way to ensure that we don’t accidentally cause critical damage to fragile Arctic ecosystems. This does not mean that all Arctic development should be halted, only that a lack of data should not be used to rationalize the safety of projects in a region where scientific uncertainty is the norm.

Unfortunately, the extent of scientific uncertainty is huge. A 2013 report by the Arctic Council concluded, “there is a critical lack of essential data and scientific understanding necessary to improve the planning and implementation of biodiversity conservation.” Two recently published studies go further: one demonstrating that we have no environmental samples from huge areas of the Arctic, and the other finding that we haven’t assessed the conservation risk for 85 per cent of Arctic marine fish species due to a lack of basic biological data.

Embedding the precautionary principle in the Arctic Policy Framework would help to protect northern birds, fish and mammals — crucial food sources for Arctic people who still largely rely on harvesting to meet their nutritional needs. It would ensure that Arctic communities are not devastated by unexpected environmental disasters on the lands they have occupied for millenia. It’s far better to be safe than sorry, when Canadian’s food and way of life are at risk.

In fact, Canada and other nations have already acted in a precautionary manner by signing on to the international moratorium on commercial fishing in the central Arctic Ocean. In 2015, nine countries and the EU agreed that there was insufficient data on fish stocks to permit commercial fishing in this area. For at least 16 years, the central Arctic Ocean will be off-limits while the international community researches and monitors the area. Presumably, collecting these data will allow for the opening of sustainable, well-managed fisheries in the future — but without the science, the risks of rushing into commercial fishing were deemed to be too high.

There is good precedent for a cautionary approach in the Arctic. The precautionary principle is a fundamental component of the OSPAR Convention, a multilateral agreement to protect Arctic and sub-Arctic areas in the Northeast Atlantic. And most of the Canadian Arctic is much more poorly studied than OSPAR territory. For example, while Norway monitors 16 Arctic seabird colonies to international standards, Canada currently only monitors two, despite having one of the world’s largest Arctic seabird populations.

The opening of the $204 million Canadian High Arctic Research Station in Ikaluktutiak (Cambridge Bay) will help to address some of these issues. The station promises to be a world-class research hub in the poorly studied Arctic Archipelago, but even travelling to the research station is prohibitively costly for some, with round trip flights from Ottawa costing up to $11,000 CAD. Emerging technologies, like environmental DNA and improved remote sensing, may also alleviate the need for expensive travel and fieldwork. But currently, the cost of Arctic research has been pegged at eight times higher than comparable research elsewhere on earth, and these high costs will ensure that filling data gaps across the Arctic will take time.

A commitment to science-based decision-making in the Arctic should include a commitment to the precautionary principle. While we should work to address scientific shortcomings and to include Indigenous knowledge in Arctic decision-making, scientific uncertainty will always be the walrus in the room for Arctic development. Not taking this uncertainty seriously risks destroying the unique and beautiful northern landscapes that are at the heart of Canada’s identity.

Like a kid in a candy store
When those boxes of heavily redacted documents start to pile in, reporters at The Narwhal waste no time in looking for kernels of news that matter the most. Just ask our Prairies reporter Drew Anderson, who gleefully scanned through freedom of information files like a kid in a candy store, leading to pretty damning revelations in Alberta. Long story short: the government wasn’t being forthright when it claimed its pause on new renewable energy projects wasn’t political. Just like that, our small team was again leading the charge on a pretty big story

In an oil-rich province like Alberta, that kind of reporting is crucial. But look at our investigative work on TC Energy’s Coastal GasLink pipeline to the west, or our Greenbelt reporting out in Ontario. They all highlight one thing: those with power over our shared natural world don’t want you to know how — or why — they call the shots. And we try to disrupt that.

Our journalism is powered by people just like you. We never take corporate ad dollars, or put this public-interest information behind a paywall. Will you join the pod of Narwhals that make a difference by helping us uncover some of the most important stories of our time?
Like a kid in a candy store
When those boxes of heavily redacted documents start to pile in, reporters at The Narwhal waste no time in looking for kernels of news that matter the most. Just ask our Prairies reporter Drew Anderson, who gleefully scanned through freedom of information files like a kid in a candy store, leading to pretty damning revelations in Alberta. Long story short: the government wasn’t being forthright when it claimed its pause on new renewable energy projects wasn’t political. Just like that, our small team was again leading the charge on a pretty big story

In an oil-rich province like Alberta, that kind of reporting is crucial. But look at our investigative work on TC Energy’s Coastal GasLink pipeline to the west, or our Greenbelt reporting out in Ontario. They all highlight one thing: those with power over our shared natural world don’t want you to know how — or why — they call the shots. And we try to disrupt that.

Our journalism is powered by people just like you. We never take corporate ad dollars, or put this public-interest information behind a paywall. Will you join the pod of Narwhals that make a difference by helping us uncover some of the most important stories of our time?

See similar stories

Some landowners in rural Alberta don’t trust wind companies, alleging aggressive tactics

This is the second article in a two-part series about the opposition to wind energy in Kneehill County, Alta. Get the inside scoop on The...

Continue reading

Recent Posts

Our newsletter subscribers are the first to find out when we break a big story. Sign up for free →
An illustration, in yellow, of a computer, with an open envelope inside it with letter reading 'Breaking news.'
Your access to our journalism is free — always. Sign up for our weekly newsletter for investigative reporting on the natural world in Canada you won’t find anywhere else.
'This is not a paywall' text illustration, in a reddish-pink font colour
Your access to our journalism is free — always. Sign up for our weekly newsletter for investigative reporting on the natural world in Canada you won’t find anywhere else.
'This is not a paywall' text illustration, in a reddish-pink font colour