Summary

• Nunavut hunters and trappers are concerned about a proposal to expand the Mary River mine on Baffin Island.
• Hunter and trapper organizations in three Inuit communities have raised concerns about detrimental effects to the environment, as well as a lack of consultation.
• The proposed expansion by Baffinland Iron Mines Corp. comes amid a financial crisis for the company, which owes $2.6 billion to creditors and recently received a $660-million loan from the federal government to provide it with “breathing room.”

Hunters and trappers organizations in three Nunavut communities are raising concerns Baffinland Iron Mines Corporation’s proposal to expand its Mary River mine, including the construction of a 149-kilometre rail line, will be detrimental to wildlife in Foxe Basin.

The organizations from Naujaat in the Kivalliq region, and Igloolik and Sanirajak in the Qikiqtaaluk region, are seeking consultation and a full review of the expansion plan, arguing it will impact their right to harvest.

Made up of the shallow waters off the west coast of Baffin Island, Foxe Basin is an important environment for marine species including narwhals, walruses and bowhead whales. 

Inuit in all three communities rely on the area to harvest these animals for food and as a way of life. But the expansion is likely to change that, according to John Ell-Tinashlu, chair of the Arviq Hunters and Trappers Organization in Naujaat. 

Baffinland’s proposed Steensby expansion, which received environmental assessment approval in 2012, is aimed at increasing iron ore production at the mine from 4.2 million tonnes per year to 22 million tonnes. Transportation for the iron ore would take place via the rail line from the mine, south to a proposed port on Steensby Inlet, as well as a sea route through Foxe Basin. 

“The big difference will be the numbers of ships going in and out [of Foxe],” Ell-Tinashlu says, adding the size of the ships transiting in the area to transport the iron ore each year — as well as their presence year-round — will affect the entire food chain. 

“With narwhals, when they hear the lightest noise, they quit making sounds until the [shipping noise] gets farther,” he says. “And it’s not just narwhals — bowhead whales, walruses, harp seals, ringed seals, shrimp, cod.” The increased shipping, he says, will have impacts on marine life at every link of the food chain, “from a small predator to a big predator.”  

Mirroring concerns from Mittimatalikmiut 

A spokesperson for Baffinland said the company has been approved for 242 transits through the Foxe Basin waterway each year, transporting iron ore as part of the expansion. James Gunvaldsen Klaassen, a lawyer with Ecojustice, says this will deeply affect the local narwhal population, in particular, as the ore carriers will follow the same path as the local narwhal population’s migration route — from summer in Repulse Bay, where Naujaat is located, to Foxe Basin and Hudson Strait in the fall — causing serious impacts to the marine mammals. 

The impacts of such activity are already known in communities such as Mittimatalik, or Pond Inlet, which is located on Eclipse Sound just east of Baffinland’s current port on Milne Inlet. In 2018, Baffinland began seeking approval to increase production to six million tonnes per year, with a proposed second phase that would involve increasing production to 12 million tonnes per year. 

The Nunavut Impact Review Board recommended against the increase to 12 million tonnes and former federal minister of northern affairs Dan Vandal rejected the proposal in 2022. Under its current operating licence, Baffinland is allowed to mine up to 4.2 million tonnes of ore from Mary River annually, and since 2018, has been granted temporary permission to mine up to six million tonnes per year. 

“The Arviq [Hunters and Trappers Organization] has heard from other Inuit who live in Pond Inlet and are dependent on the narwhal in Eclipse Sound that when the ore carriers travelled there the narwhal were very sensitive to noise and it disrupted migration patterns,” Klaassen says. 

“At that point, the narwhal started to go to other places and disappear from the locations they’re normally found in. Some still return, but there’s a big difference in how many come back year over year.”

Inuit in Mittimatalik have found the health of narwhals to have been impacted by the stresses associated with ships as well, Klaassen added. 

“The Arviq [Hunters and Trappers Organization] has seen this happen in the north side of Baffin and they’re extremely concerned it’s going to happen in their area as well when the shipping starts, so this is a big concern.” 

By email, Baffinland’s spokesperson Peter Akman said Baffinland is taking concerns raised by the Arviq Hunters and Trappers Organization seriously, and has invested significantly in underwater acoustic monitoring, through which it has found “while noise from project vessels is detectable in the underwater soundscape, vessel noise exposure is temporary in nature and below sound levels that could cause acoustic injury.” 

“We’ve implemented measures to reduce vessel noise and mitigate potential impacts on these sensitive species,” Akman said. “Our approach includes reducing vessel speeds to minimize noise and disturbance, implementing a designated marine shipping lane, avoiding ecologically sensitive areas and scheduling vessel transits to avoid breaking ice at the beginning of the shipping season.” 

Akman added Baffinland also requires vessels to maintain minimum distances from marine mammals and to follow strict protocols including observing a speed no faster than nine knots, maintaining fixed routes and avoiding ecologically sensitive areas. 

“Hudson Strait connects Foxe Basin to the Labrador Sea, forming a marine ‘superhighway’ for narwhal, bowhead and beluga whales. Foxe Basin also supports the largest walrus population in Canada,” Sam Davin, lead specialist for conservation and shipping at World Wildlife Fund Canada, says. “More ships will mean more pollution, noise, black carbon and a greater risk of ship strikes.” 

In the case of narwhals, Davin said the marine mammals are among the most sensitive to underwater noise and are “more stressed than ever as industrial activity and shipping in their habitat intensifies.” 

“A Fisheries and Oceans Canada study, supported by WWF-Canada’s Arctic Species Conservation Fund, found that cortisol levels of narwhal in Eclipse Sound, near Pond Inlet, increased by 200 per cent from 2013 to 2019,” he said. “Already under intense pressure from rapid climate change, these species will be placed under even greater stress if proposals to dramatically increase shipping and related infrastructure in the Canadian Arctic proceed.” 

Davin added, “There is no scenario in which a project of this scale does not have a significant impact on marine mammals and other species in the region.”

Former Nunavut premier opposes expansion, cites lack of consultation 

Paul Okalik, former premier of Nunavut and lead Arctic specialist with World Wildlife Fund Canada, said he understands Arviq Hunters and Trappers Organization’s concerns about the Steensby expansion as he got involved in advocacy against the Mary River Milne port expansion in 2018. 

As well as proposing to increase production to 12 million tonnes per year under its phase two expansion, Baffinland wanted to build another railway to move all of that ore to the Milne port, rather than by road.

“I had grown up 800 kilometres south of the current project, and we had only been exposed to narwhal in early spring, before ice breakup,” he recalls. After the mine received approval to increase annual production to 6 million tonnes, he says, “we were starting to see narwhals in the summer months — in August — because they were being displaced and dispersed.”

“Since [Baffinland was] not approved for expansion on the eastern front through Milne port, they now have started to focus their attention on trying to ship ore through Steensby, and that’s going to be brutal for Naujaat, in particular, where they depend on narwhal in the summer months.”

According to Okalik, a key difference between the Milne port expansion and the one proposed at Steensby is that Inuit from Mittimatalik were consulted about the former, while Inuit in Naujaat were left out of the 2012 approval of shipping through Foxe Basin. 

“Fortunately for Mittimatalik and the surrounding communities, they were able to take part in the hearings and have an influence on the decision of the proposed phase two [expansion at Milne port] and they were able to push back and say, ‘This is not acceptable to us,’ ” Okalik says. 

“For the Steensby port and railroad project, there has never been any hearing. There has never been any input from Naujaat to influence that decision that took place in 2012 because they were never approached, they were never able to take part in any hearing. That’s a really flawed decision in my opinion, because any community that’s going to be impacted deserves to have a say and influence on the impending project.” 

The lack of consultation with Inuit in Naujaat in 2012 — and in the 14 years since — is why Ell-Tinashlu said the Arviq Hunters and Trappers Organization is working with Ecojustice to call on the Nunavut Impact Review Board and Inuit associations for a complete review. 

They have seen some response since organizing a news conference for this call with the Igloolik and Sanirajak hunters and trappers associations in Iqaluit on May 15. Klaassen confirmed the Arviq Hunters and Trappers Organization participated in Nunavut Impact Review Board meetings in Iqaluit as part of their assessment of the cumulative effects of the Mary River project in early June. On June 29, the review board announced a final virtual information session on July 14, acknowledging some in-person sessions in May had been impacted by weather and travel issues. 

However, Klaassen emphasized the organization continues to “have some concerns about its scope and whether it will lead to any meaningful changes in relation to the project’s impacts on their livelihood and harvesting rights under the Nunavut Land Claims Agreement.” 

According to Akman, consultation on Steensby “has been extensive” and the Nunavut Impact Review Board’s original scoping of potentially affected communities was public and included the community of Coral Harbour, which is also in the Kivalliq and close to the proposed shipping lane. 

Akman said Naujaat did not elect to participate in the public review at the time and as a result was not integrated into Baffinland’s community and stakeholder engagement plans for this expansion. He also said the Arviq Hunters and Trappers Organization has never reached out to Baffinland for a meeting but the corporation is working to address concerns raised by hunters who are part of it. 

Akman added that Baffinland itself led direct engagement efforts in all Qikiqtani communities affected by the mine between 2023 and 2024 to develop the necessary applications following the environment assessment authorizations. 

“Following the submission of our applications, the federal government commenced an extensive engagement process with the same affected communities, completing several rounds of written and in-person exchanges between March 2025 and January 2026.” 

In the case of Igloolik and Sanirajak, Akman said Baffinland has organized in-person consultations to discuss environmental monitoring and mitigation measures for the expansion 48 times since 2023. The engagement has involved discussions about “community access to vessel routing information, marine mammal and caribou protection measures, incorporation of Inuit knowledge and the inclusion of approximately nine proposed snowmobile and ATV crossings along the railway at locations identified through consultation with Inuit to support safe travel and land use.”

In a May 2025 response to the Canadian Transportation Agency’s consultations on the Steensby expansion, the Igloolik Hunters and Trappers Association said consultations have been piecemeal and the association has “serious unresolved concerns,” which is why it believes permits for the expansion should not be issued at this time. 

The Igloolik Hunters and Trappers Association also said the original review and assessment of the expansion is over a decade old, and therefore outdated. It called for new assessments instead, arguing that under federal legislation, a mining company has five years to begin operations. After that, a re-consideration of the terms and conditions is required. 

“These ‘sunset clauses’ exist because environmental conditions and knowledge change over time, sometimes necessitating reassessment,” the association said in its response. 

“This same logic should be applied to Baffinland’s plans to build a port and railway to Steensby Inlet.” 

For both Klaassen and Ell-Tinashlu, consultations remain but a first step in the process — what they would like to see is concerns about the expansion addressed and alternatives found for the impact the Steensby expansion will have on the way of life for Inuit in Naujaat, Igloolik and Sanirajak. 

“We’re in a tough situation and we need Canada, our government, to step up,” Ell-Tinashlu says. 

“This shipping route will run for 40 to 45 years if they go ahead and our Foxe Basin animals will be absolutely gone.” 

Baffinland debts put future of mine, expansion into question

Baffinland’s current financial crisis has also put the future of its proposed expansion into question. As the biggest industrial development project and largest private-sector employer in Nunavut, the Mary River mine contributes nearly a quarter of the territory’s GDP. 

The Milne phase two expansion, had it been approved, would have generated $2.4 billion for Inuit organizations including Nunavut Tunngavik Inc. and the Qikiqtani Inuit Association over 17 years of operations, according to Baffinland. 

In addition, the corporation had said it expected $680 million in revenues generated for the Government of Nunavut annually as well as a total of $1.7 billion in revenues for the Government of Canada over the life of the mine. 

Baffinland anticipated the total gross domestic product generated in the Canadian economy over the Milne project’s life span to be over $30 billion. 

However, as recently reported by the CBC, as of May 14 the corporation currently owes a total of $2.6 billion to creditors.

On June 30, Baffinland received a $660 million loan from Export Development Canada to provide the company with “breathing room,” according to a news release, and continue operations at the Mary River mine site. The company remains under creditor protection, according to a news release, which could lead to “recapitalization or potential sale of the company.”  

“Ultimately, what the Arviq [Hunters and Trappers Organization] would like to see is a different route for this railway and port,” Klaassen says.“Arviq [Hunters and Trappers Organization] is not opposed to the operations at Mary River. It must be done responsibly and carefully. … The big concern is not to shut down that operation, but to make the route much better and more carefully arranged so that the rights of Inuit are protected and the environment is protected.”Klaassen also says as an organization made up of Inuit from Naujaat, Arviq has constitutional rights based on the Nunavut Land Claims Agreement and the ability to assert those rights in court if necessary. While no legal actions have been filed so far, he says they continue to be “a distinct possibility.”“We’re talking about a way of life and food security for the Inuit living [in Naujaat],” Klaassen says. “Those must be protected, otherwise it’s going to be a disaster.”

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The winding drive northward from Vancouver along the Sea to Sky Highway is a series of postcard moments — lush coastal rainforest, glimmering ocean and approaching mountain ranges. It’s easy to miss the closed Britannia mine nestled into the jagged northwest slopes.

The site, in Squamish Nation territory, was once a steep rockface sloping into the Pacific Ocean. In 1904, the Britannia mine opened and would grow to be one of the largest copper mines in the British Empire by the 1920s and ’30s. Little attention was paid to the environmental impacts of mining at the time. By the late ’90s, it became one of the most contaminated industrial sites in North America.

The mine shut down in 1974 and by 1975, the local historical society opened what’s now known as the Britannia Mine Museum. 

On a recent Saturday night this Pride Month, another evolution was underway, with 14 drag kings, queens and things strutting, lip-syncing and sashaying through the century-old Mill No. 3.

The Britannia mine had to transform to continue to exist, drag queen Dust Cwaine says, sitting on a giant tire and staring out at a rusty piece of discarded mining equipment. “When we look around, all you see is history.” 

The venue for tonight’s drag show, “Old Town, New Queens,” is the historic 20-storey mill, which once used gravity to help process ore, rock that contains minerals, dug up from the over 200 kilometres of tunnels inside the mountain. Large pieces would tumble down from the top of the mill, to be crushed, grinded and processed into the consistency of sand. A mixture of that powdered ore, water, aromatic oils and bubbles became a cakey copper concentrate, to later be sent out and processed with high heat and purified into copper.

From 1904 to 1974, the Britannia mine produced more than 45 million tonnes of ore. Tonight, the booming sounds of rock being crushed and grinded are far in the past, replaced by drag king Kyle Wiley turning it out to AC/DC’s You Shook Me All Night Long.

Britannia’s copper mill could have been left to “rust and rot” like others across the country, Derek A. Jang, the museum’s director of programs and guest experience, says before the show. His radio beeps and crackles as staff prepare for the evening and try to grab his attention.

Typically, when a mine in B.C. is closed or decommissioned, plans focus on returning the area back to what it was. The local community doesn’t always get a say.

Some closed mines have been remodelled in unique ways. The Sunken Garden in Victoria’s famous Butchart Gardens was once a limestone quarry. There’s an old silver mine in northern Ontario that has lived many lives including a bookstore, flower shop, grocery store and now a tea room. In Pennsylvania, an abandoned limestone mine has become a resort where visitors can ride all-terrain and other recreational vehicles through the darkness of underground tunnels.

The community of Britannia Beach shared its vision to turn the mine into a museum years before the last shift whistle blew on November 1, 1974, Jang says. The opening of the museum the next year was thanks to intentional efforts by a number of groups, including the Britannia Beach Historical Society.

Tonight, the old mine likely looks very different from what the founders ever imagined.

Community groups like Queer People in Mining, Sea 2 Sky Allies and Pride Squamish have booths set up in the gravel courtyard outside the mill. Rainbow hearts and balloons direct the crowd. Inside, there’s an archway — much like the one Madonna danced through in her iconic video Express Yourself — next to a sound system, smoke machine and stage lights.

“As a member of the 2SLGBTQ+ community myself, I don’t always feel seen when I go to different museum attractions,” Jang says, adding that Britannia exhibits have been dominated by images and stories of working white men. “This event, in some ways, is a bold way of saying ‘Let’s change that.’ ”

It took years of relationship building with the local 2SLGBTQ+ community for the museum to see the mine go from tunnels to tutus. Trevor Wulff, president of Pride Squamish, says the nearby town he grew up in wasn’t always a welcoming place. “It’s really amazing because it’s all about community … everyone deserves a sense of belonging,” Wulff says, looking around as a crowd of many ages and genders slowly grows.

It was important to think about how to make the event welcoming for young people, Jang says. He heard from community groups that youth “have very few opportunities to see queerness in action.”

Drag artists played with themes of tech advancements, “Giants at Werk,” a nod to Britannia Museum’s summer exhibit on big machinery and the mine’s legacy of pollution.

“We’re adding to a new history while honouring and respecting the past,” Dust Cwaine says in an interview during intermission, as performers Homo Hardware and Peter Packer prepare for their acts.

Decades ago, when the Britannia mine was operational, its lights illuminated the nights of Howe Sound. The night of the drag show, sunset slowly seeped in through the mill’s 14,416 panes of glass adding to the dramatic glow of Homo Hardware’s iridescent, shimmering wings.

Drag is “a vehicle for self expression,” Homo Hardware explained on a phone call before the show. “There are so many different ways that people can use that, whether that’s a more direct, literal message about a cause, or something a bit more abstract.” What makes drag so effective, they said, is the energy and connection that comes from being in a live performance space.

In the second act, drag thing Rose Butch lip synced to Hillary Duff’s Come Clean. The lyrics hit a bit differently than usual, invoking the environmental impacts of mining. Duff’s voice reverberates through the rafters — “I’m shedding, shedding every color / Tryna find a pigment of truth beneath my skin” — as Rose Butch parts through bubbles floating across the stage.

In one far corner of the mill, bright blue streaks of copper reacting with water shine bright. Rose Butch moves up and down hidden in a star-speckled cloud, holding an umbrella dripping with tinsel until their big reveal: the clouds part into a dress draping them in sequined bright blue skies.

The mine was once called “the single worst point source of metal pollution on the North American continent,” causing devastating effects to marine life in Howe Sound. Acidic water containing heavy metals leaked into nearby waterways for decades. Water leaving the site has to be treated at an estimated cost of $3.7 million per year, according to an email from the Ministry of Water, Land and Resource Stewardship. That treatment process has to happen in perpetuity — meaning the public will foot that bill for the foreseeable future.

That history isn’t lost on the organizers of the event. We’re all here because of the continuous efforts to keep the land clean, Dust Cwaine says. Work continues today to ensure “this place doesn’t poison our waters and poison our nature … It has this complicated existence … I think putting drag in it is this incredible juxtaposition.”

Just a few hours ago, Jang was wearing a plain black Britannia Mine Museum polo shirt, as he prepared for the show. Now, he’s on stage with a flashy new look, sharing another evolution of the mine — and a hope for more to come. The waters surrounding the mine site were once severely damaged, he tells the crowd, but there’s been incredible work done to bring back aquatic life and restore the ecosystem. 

“In the 2010s spawning salmon returned to Britannia Creek, for the first time, in what we suspect to be over 100 years,” he says to an eruption of cheers, through which Jang continues. 

“I worry [young people] think they’re inheriting a broken world that is beyond help … I hope that in some way Britannia Mine Museum can play a role in inspiring the next generation of great thinkers to remember that work is going to be hard, but solutions can be in reach.”

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Morning light streams into the tiny, five-seat helicopter as it hovers above the Tranquil Creek watershed in Clayoquot Sound, B.C. It turns into what seems like a collision course with a cliff, but a landing pad appears just in time.

After a minute of careful positioning, the chopper touches ground on a bed of freshly cut grass and branches, allowing Tla-o-qui-aht First Nation’s natural resources manager Saya Masso and lead guardian Tattuuskulth (Tatt) Charlie to step outside.

They’ve come to see a mine shaft with an entranceway small enough that Masso ducks down to look inside. It looks like a relic from the gold rush, but there are a few conspicuously new things stashed at the entrance: a shiny white construction hat, plastic bags and a long orange hose coiled in a pile. 

For Masso and Charlie, they’re quiet reminders that what began here more than a century ago has yet to conclude.

In February, Canadian mining company Imperial Metals received a permit to explore for gold at the long-dormant Fandora mine site on Vancouver Island’s west coast. For the next five years, the company is allowed to pick and prod underground in the hopes of accessing the site’s mostly untapped resources. 

Masso is worried about Hiłsyaqƛis, the name for the Tranquil Creek watershed in Nuu-chah-nulth. Problems at this remote site in the middle of rain-drenched temperate forest could easily metastasize. 

“Positive change is gradual,” he says, “but negative change can happen so quick.”

Clayoquot Sound is home to the some of the largest intact old-growth forests on Vancouver Island, and remains a key refuge for massive red cedars, orcas and Pacific salmon. About 20 kilometres from the mine site, these lands and waters now underpin the tourism economy of Tofino, B.C. First Nations including Tla-o-qui-aht have spent decades protecting the region, helping to shape its economic future. According to Tourism Tofino, visitors spent $430 million in the region in 2024. 

Tofino Mayor Dan Law was careful to clarify the municipality has no jurisdiction over a prospective mine outside its boundaries, but says a mine in the sound “seems like a no-go.”

“Clearly, the wealth of Clayoquot Sound is not in resource extraction,” Law says from his office on a tree-lined street in the heart of town.

Masso puts things a little more bluntly. “A gold mine will never open in Clayoquot Sound in this tenure,” he says. The Tla-o-qui-aht have opposed Imperial Metals’ efforts to search for gold on the site for more than a decade.

“It goes against our spiritual plan, our cultural plan, our tourism plan, so we’re asking ministers and leaders in B.C. to help turn this around, to put a pause on it, put an injunction on it,” Masso says.

The Tofino Chamber of Commerce also opposes the plan. 

“This would be extensively damaging to our business community,” Graydon Clerk, executive director of the Tofino Chamber of Commerce, says. The association recently sent a letter to the province outlining its concerns.

Imperial Metals did not respond to The Narwhal’s multiple requests for comment. 

B.C.’s Ministry of Mining and Critical Minerals told The Narwhal the permit doesn’t allow activities beyond the current exploration plan. Anything more would require a new decision under the province’s Mines Act.

“The Ministry remains committed to strong environmental oversight, safe mining practices and ongoing consultation with First Nations and partners,” it added. 

Pressure from the growing price of gold

East of Clayoquot Sound, a broader debate over Canada’s future is unfolding.

“Canada has what the world wants,” Prime Minister Mark Carney told a room of the world’s elite at the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland, earlier this year, signalling his government’s open-for-business ethos. And the world wants gold.

Gold is among Canada’s largest exports, after oil and gas. Thanks to skyrocketing prices, the precious metal has boosted the profile of Canada’s stock exchange and contributed to the country’s claimed success diversifying its exports away from the U.S. To facilitate a resource-sector renaissance, Canada, B.C. and other provinces have promised to push major projects through — and quickly.

The Tla-o-qui-aht are no strangers to the treasures beneath their territory. Copper and gold from the region have long been used in ceremonies and to adorn regalia. “They had monumental value,” Tla-o-qui-aht Chief Elmer Frank tells The Narwhal in an interview. 

By the late 1800s, word had gotten out, and prospectors flooded the region as the north’s Klondike Gold Rush wound down. The efforts were buoyed by B.C.’s mining laws, which allowed settlers to stake out mineral rights simply by driving posts into the ground.

The Fandora mine site was first staked in the 1930s, but in 1940, the mine had yet to produce the equivalent of a large gold bar. It has sat mostly dormant for half a century. 

Meanwhile, Tofino grew. 

In 2000, Clayoquot Sound was declared a UNESCO Biosphere Reserve, marking it as a global priority for conservation. The town’s new boom was in whale-watching, five-star hotels and fancy restaurants. Today, Tofino’s population surges from about 2,500 year-round locals to more than 12,000 during its summer peak.

But in February, as gold prices soared, British Columbia approved a five-year permit for Imperial Metals, under its wholly-owned subsidiary, Selkirk Metals Corp., to see whether Fandora’s reserves are worth the cost of constructing a mine. 

Documents obtained by The Narwhal show the company plans to dig a series of metre-wide trenches, some as long as two football fields, to determine if trace amounts of gold in the soil signal riches below. The company has also mapped out six drill pads, each roughly the size of a small house, some as close as 110 metres from the river. Drilling will likely require thousands of litres of water for each hole. On the company’s proposed exploration map, there are three “helicopter drill pad water sources” listed in Tranquil Creek’s tributaries. According to its permit, “road-access drilling” will not use water from Tranquil Creek or its tributaries. 

In its permit application materials, Imperial Metals noted it will seek to reuse and reduce water as much as possible. The company’s permit also requires it take steps to accommodate traditional harvest and cultural practices during its exploration work, among other requirements.

In the documents, Imperial Metals noted the intensity of this project in its first year will depend on how much funding the company obtains. “We may only drill one or two holes,” it added. Its permit allows it to drill another 15 house-sized drill pads in yet-undisclosed locations across the Tranquil Creek watershed and its adjacent valley.

The documents also suggest gold on the property extends farther than previously understood. “After a long hiatus in exploration, modern soil geochemistry was completed on the property, which successfully extended the anomalous gold horizon along strike of the known veins,” an August 2025 Notice of Work document obtained by The Narwhal states.

Imperial Metals did not respond to The Narwhal’s questions about its plans.

A mine surrounded by tribal parks

As the lead guardian for Tla-o-qui-aht First Nation, Charlie doesn’t miss a beat when asked which of his many tasks he prefers. 

“Hands down, my favourite is trail building,” he says.

Trails extend throughout the nation’s tribal parks, which now encompass Tla-o-qui-aht’s entire territory, more than 1,000 square kilometres. Within tribal parks, industry and economic development aren’t categorically excluded. But their acceptance is contingent on support from the nation and other locals who aim to ensure industry doesn’t come at the expense of what ecosystems and communities need to thrive. 

“It’s a vision that the region can stand behind,” Masso says. 

The province has yet to recognize tribal parks within its own legal system — and where some form of recognition exists, it has been hard-won.

In the late 1970s and early 1980s, members of Tla-o-qui-aht and ʕaaḥuusʔatḥ (Ahousaht) First Nations discovered logging giant MacMillan Bloedel had plans to clear-cut almost all of Meares Island, home of ecologically important intact forests. In response, Tla-o-qui-aht declared its first tribal park across Meares in its entirety. The province granted the company’s logging permits anyway.

A blockade led by the Tla-o-qui-aht ensued, sparking the first of a series of blockades in Clayoquot Sound which eventually led to the War in the Woods. In 1985, the B.C. Court of Appeal decided the nations’ yet-to-be-recognized Aboriginal Title should outweigh the company’s right to short-term profit.

According a paper published by lawyer and professor Douglas Harris, the decision helped shape a key turning point. Indigenous Rights claims were no longer a point of curiosity for the courts. Now they had legal weight.

Today, Meares Island remains off-limits to logging, protecting the District of Tofino’s sole source of drinking water. But elsewhere in the territory, including in the Tranquil watershed, areas within tribal parks had no such safeguards.

That is, until recently.

‘Consent of affected First Nations is not a legal requirement,’ B.C. government says

In spring 2024, B.C., Tla-o-qui-aht and neighbouring ʕaaḥuusʔatḥ announced a set of protected areas across Clayoquot Sound and throughout the Tla-o-qui-aht Nation’s tribal parks. “It’s a monumental occasion,” Masso said at the time. 

In theory, the conservancies would recognize some principles of the Tla-o-qui-aht’s tribal parks within B.C.’s laws, and they came with commitments: B.C. promised the areas would have no commercial forestry within their boundaries, nor any mining activity. 

To Masso, it remains a partial victory: The Tranquil Creek conservancy B.C. put forward has a big hole in the middle, shaped seemingly to avoid overlap with Imperial Metals’ mining claims.

Masso says he remembers the province’s reassurances. “They said, ‘This is just the first step,’ ” he says. “‘We’ll make more as we do more work to resolve overlaps or tenures, and we’ll add it.’ ”

But that hasn’t happened. 

Instead, Masso received an email from the province in December 2025, which revealed Imperial Metals was about to return. After a few years of what Chief Frank described as “one-way” consultation, the company was on the precipice of receiving a renewed exploration permit.

Masso was stunned. “We said, ‘Wait a second, they’re considering issuing this,’ ” he says. “We wrote a very stern letter reminding them that they couldn’t.”

Two months later, the province approved Imperial’s permit anyway.

In an emailed statement, B.C.’s Ministry of Mines and Critical Minerals said its decision was based on the exploration activity alone. 

The ministry added “Consent of affected First Nations is not a legal requirement” but that it “seeks to reach consensus in decision making and considers all input from First Nations in that process.”

“Input received informs decision making,” it added. 

ʕaaḥuusʔatḥ, whose territory overlaps with areas within Imperial Metals’ Fandora claim, did not respond to The Narwhal’s interview request. 

Indigenous consent and the country’s relationship to it are an increasingly charged lightning rod in Canadian politics. In 2019, B.C. committed to integrate the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, or UNDRIP, into its own laws, including the principle of free, prior and informed consent.

More recently, the B.C. Court of Appeal found the province’s mineral tenure system inconsistent with UNDRIP, as incorporated into provincial law through the Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples Act (DRIPA). The province appealed the ruling, which is now waiting to be heard by the Supreme Court of Canada. In the meantime, Premier David Eby attempted to suspend parts of the Declaration Act, a move that was widely criticized and stopped, in part, by the NDP government’s own members. The government says it will revisit the issue in the fall legislative session.

Sara Ghebremusse, an assistant professor at the University of British Columbia’s Allard School of Law, cautions against efforts to go backwards, particularly given the growing body of international and national law recognizing the weight of Indigenous Rights. 

“This is going to be a long-term issue,” she says.

The cost of gold

At the Fandora site, gold comes wrapped up with sulphides. Under certain conditions, the compound turns water into acid that can leach heavy metals into the watershed.

To curb that risk, mines generally store waste rock underwater and away from oxygen. But in rain-drenched Clayoquot Sound, accumulating pools of tailings could overflow, meaning if built a mine would likely require long-term drainage systems and monitoring. 

“Water is always a problem,” Scott Dunbar, a professor of mining engineering at the University of British Columbia, says. “If an accident occurs, the first question is always ‘Where did the water get out?’ ”

For the time being, Imperial’s exploration permit requires it to mitigate the potential for acid mine drainage through identifying and safely disposing of rocks capable of causing it.

Gold is also famously stubborn for clinging to its host rocks, which means heavy-duty chemicals are used in extraction. Cyanide leaching is the most common method of choice. Companies aim to isolate the obviously noxious chemical and keep it contained, but tailings that are left over are likely contaminated.

Meanwhile, the Tranquil Creek watershed is already on life support. 

After the valley bottom was logged extensively in the 1960s and 1970s, loggers moved into the hills, destroying root systems that held the region’s crumbly till in place. Landslides ensued, helping turn Tranquil Creek, a key spawning ground for Pacific salmon, into a danger zone capable of suffocating salmon eggs beneath gravel or washing them out to sea. By 2017, resident Chinook and chum salmon had almost disappeared.

With the Redd Fish Restoration Society, Tla-o-qui-aht is working to restore the watershed, including installing a series of costly but effective human-made log-jams to slow the water and building terraces in the landslides to choke off the gravel taps. Collectively with other groups, about $6 million has been spent restoring the Tranquil so far. Recent years of boosted salmon returns are providing some hope.

Charlie warns of the risks of backsliding in the Tranquil. “Mining is one thing that will just throw it over the edge,” he says. 

In a recent article in the publication Ha-Shilth-Sa, Imperial Metals CEO Brian Kynoch noted the mine would “most likely” be underground, not in an open pit, and that it would target only “narrow” gold veins. He also said Imperial Metals “remains committed to engaging respectfully with First Nations and local communities as the project moves forward.”

Kynoch has previously described the project as “artisanal.”

But the company has a checkered past: In 2014, the company’s “crown jewel” gold and copper mine, Mount Polley, became the site of the largest mining waste disaster in Canada’s history when its tailings dam breached. More than 25 billion litres of water and mine waste, including lead, cadmium and arsenic, spilled into the surrounding watershed. Later reporting showed the province warned the company about stability concerns in its tailings dam at least five times before the disaster occurred. 

In 2018, the company faced significant financial challenges and there was concern it might file for bankruptcy. But even if a mine is never built, Imperial could profit from the claim. In B.C., mining companies stand to be compensated if they withdraw claims to make way for new protected areas. In 2022, Imperial Metals received $24 million to relinquish its claim area in the Skagit Headwaters. 

“It doesn’t make any sense at all to let them drill it if the only end result is to compensate them to not mine,” Masso says.

Imperial Metals did not reply to The Narwhal’s request for comment.

‘It’s still a beautiful place’

Once we’re back in the helicopter’s bucket seats, the chopper ascends from the cliff face and travels on through the Tranquil watershed. 

Uniform patches of short, stubby trees extend across the valley bottom, but the forests transform as we fly higher, farther from the reach of roads and access points. Soon the chopper tips toward the deep blue bowl of a mountain lake, its water still and inky blue. 

“It’s still a beautiful place,” Masso says. “Even if it’s still in recovery.”

From up above, Tofino’s growth is hard to ignore. Multimillion-dollar vacation homes sprawl across the coastline. Masso peers out the window, thinking about an old photo of Tofino in the 1960s with just a scattering of homes. He knows more change is on the way. 

“Imagine another 80 years from now,” he says. “People are gonna say, ‘Look at what it was like.’ ”

Tourism has its challenges: Tofino is short on water and housing. Charlie and the other Tla-o-qui-aht Guardians sometimes spend days cleaning up after visitors who leave their trash on the beach and backcountry. 

But these are the challenges that Tla-o-qui-aht and the town of Tofino are choosing to grapple with, and there is work underway to smooth out the industry’s edges. Local businesses, for example, are now encouraged to collect a one per cent “responsible visitor fee” from customers to support restoration and protection in Tla-o-qui-aht’s tribal parks program. 

“We live together,” Tofino Mayor Law says. “We see this as a present and future relationship.”

Back on the ground, Masso and Charlie get ready to return to their day’s business. Masso is thinking about the coming heat and wildfires, and asks to see the helicopter company’s firefighting equipment. Moments of pause are few and far between. 

Masso had hoped the nation’s tribal parks would ward off ill-fitting visions of the region’s future. 

“We could spend our time building longhouses and rebuilding rivers, doing positive things for our children,” he says.

“But now I have to spend the next couple of years opposing a gold mine.”

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“There are strange things done in the midnight sun by the men who moil for gold,” penned the poet Robert Service about the Klondike Gold Rush. Between 1897 and 1899, around 100,000 people voyaged to the Yukon with the dream of striking it rich.

But perhaps the strangest thing yet: 127 years later, Yukon mining is still governed by laws drafted for the Gold Rush era. 

In 2025, placer miners — like that gold-panner you’re probably already picturing — harvested $449 million in gold revenue from the territory while the Yukon government took home $33,000 in royalties — taxes earned from said mining.

Yes, you read that correctly: $33,000. Another way, perhaps, to say “fool’s gold.”

The Placer Mining Act was created in 1906 when gold was worth $15 an ounce. It requires placer miners, who extract heavy minerals from loose sediment — typically in rivers or streambeds — rather than digging them out of solid rock, to pay the government 37.5 cents for every ounce of gold they get. Today, the price of gold ranges from $6,150 to $6,500 an ounce.

And antiquated royalty laws are just the tip of the iceberg.

The Yukon’s mining legislation is “grossly outdated,” Sebastian Jones says. A fish and wildlife habitat analyst at the Yukon Conservation Society, Jones says the Yukon’s mining legislation should be “top of mind” for Canadians to understand at a time when all eyes are fixed on critical minerals in the North — and when new mines are being approved by the Yukon and federal governments.

Up here, the habitat of threatened Woodland caribou is already under pressure, while First Nations are dealing with the environmental damage of legacy mines and determined to enforce their territorial rights.

More than one Yukoner warned me that writing about mining in the Yukon is like opening a can of worms. Or a whole barrel, for that matter.

How is mining regulated in the Yukon, which mines are being approved and what’s really at stake?

Grab a can opener, folks.

Let’s get into it.

Two acts govern mining activities in the Yukon — both fundamentally fail to address First Nations land treaties

The rules that govern mining in the territory are divided into two documents: the Placer Mining Act, which governs those surface miners, and the Quartz Mining Act, which governs the extraction of minerals from within rocks by blasting, drilling or heap leaching. (We’ll get into heap leaching in a bit.)

A major gap in the Yukon’s outdated mining acts is any mention of the modern-day context of First Nations self-governance and rights. 

Eleven of the 14 First Nations in the Yukon have signed land-claim agreements under the Umbrella Final Agreement, one of the most important political and legal frameworks in the territory, which came into effect in 1993. The agreement recognizes seven regions and recommends land-use planning within those regions — legal agreements with First Nations governments and the Yukon government to define what activities, mining included, will be allowed where and by whom.

Since 1993, only two land-use plans have been completed in the Yukon, with a third currently in review.

What does this have to do with mining and outdated mining legislation? Well, pretty much everything.

What is free-entry staking and why does it matter?

Free-entry staking, yet another colonial holdover from the Gold Rush, allows anyone — literally anyone over the age of 18; you don’t have to be a Yukoner or even a Canadian — to stake and record a mineral claim that gives them the right to explore for minerals in the area.

Mining claims staked during the Klondike Gold Rush, for example, still have legal jurisdiction, even if they aren’t being actively developed or exploited.

These staked claims are creating enormous legal complexity. And it’s a big part of the reason why land-use planning has been delayed.

First Nations governments, including the Na-Cho Nyäk Dun, have called for a cessation of all mining activities on their traditional territory, including the exploration and development of existing and proposed claims, until their land-use plan is completed.

Meanwhile, the Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in First Nation has taken it one step further. They’re suing the Yukon government for the mismanagement of hundreds of idle mineral claims that were staked before their land-claim agreement was signed in 1998. The First Nation argues the idle claims weren’t properly cleared out or cancelled, and have since caused environmental damages on their traditional territory.

Is change on the horizon?

In 2021, the Yukon government, led by the Liberal party, began meeting with First Nations, industry and other stakeholders. The goal? Develop new legislation to replace both the Placer Mining Act and Quartz Mining Act.

In September 2025, CBC North got its hands on a 30-page draft document using the territory’s access to information laws. The plan was to make major changes to the free-entry system. Staking a claim would no longer automatically grant mineral rights. Only after a certain amount of exploration was done could prospectors apply for mineral rights, and if they wanted to go ahead they’d need authorization from the Yukon government and First Nations.

But then came an election. In November 2025, the Liberals lost power after three successive terms. The conservative-leaning Yukon Party took the reins, winning the largest majority in the territory’s history. It’s unclear if any parts of the draft document are still being considered.

Premier Currie Dixon, leader of the Yukon Party, campaigned on bolstering the mining industry and tells me modernizing the Yukon’s outdated laws is a priority for his government. He cites a long list of issues from the way mines are assessed, regulated and monitored, along with processes for ensuring that companies adhere to regulations. “We’re hopeful that we’ll be able to find a way to engage with First Nations through a process that will lead us to a new mineral legislation sometime in 2028,” he says.

What projects are being approved?

For those concerned with Indigenous Rights and environmental issues, the new legislation can’t come soon enough — particularly as the Yukon government approves new mines.

In mid-April, the Yukon and federal governments approved the Kudz Ze Kayah mine, a proposed zinc, copper and lead mine, owned by Vancouver-based BMC Minerals. 

The proposed mine is located 115 kilometres south-east of the community of Ross River on the traditional territories of the Kaska First Nations. The Ross River Dena Council has expressed fierce opposition to the project.

The Kudz Ze Kayah mine, Jones says, would be “right slap in the middle” of a threatened caribou herd’s range. The Finlayson caribou, a woodland caribou herd, was recently declared a “living ecological person” by the Ross River Dena Council, which grants caribou the inherent rights to thrive in their natural range and be legally protected from industrial harms. 

Yukoners are also paying close attention to the Coffee Gold Mine, located 130 kilometres south of Dawson City on the traditional territory of the Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in and Selkirk First Nation and on the claimed traditional territory of White River First Nation. It’s getting closer to obtaining the necessary permits to start building.

Who is going to clean up the mess?

While past and present Yukon governments continue to tout the economic development benefits of mines, the territory is paying millions of dollars to clean up a long list of failed and abandoned mines. 

In 2024, the Yukon government paid nearly $190 million for mine remediation. That didn’t include the cost of the Eagle Mine disaster, one of the biggest mine failures in the territory’s history, which occurred on June 24, 2024.

The Eagle Mine, formerly owned by Victoria Gold, is located near the community of Mayo in north-central Yukon on the territory of the Na-Cho Nyäk Dun First Nation. It’s a gold mining operation that uses a technique called “heap leaching.” 

To understand what that looks like, think of a pour-over coffee. Heap leaching involves crushing rock, piling it on top of an impervious liner pad and then pouring a cyanide-liquid over the heap that selectively targets the gold, dissolving it into a liquid that pools in the pad. It’s relatively common in the Yukon because it’s cheaper than drilling or blasting. Companies extract the ‘liquid gold’ from beneath the pile and pump it out to be processed. The remaining ore stays piled and enclosed by containment berms.

The Eagle Mine disaster happened when one of those protective berms suddenly collapsed, causing a massive landslide of cyanide-contaminated ore. An independent review found that 1.8 million tonnes of contaminated material spilled into nearby Haggart Creek and the surrounding groundwater.

All operations were immediately halted, while Victoria Gold, unable to afford environmental clean-up, entered into a court-ordered receivership and filed for bankruptcy. It took a full month after the initial failure for the government to begin groundwater remediation. 

Kate White, leader of the NDP, the official opposition party in the Yukon, describes the events of the Eagle Mine failure as “the biggest environmental disaster” the territory has seen. “No one knows the full cost … no one will know what has leached into the water,” White says.

The costs to clean up the mess are projected to reach upwards of $377.5 million by this fall, with a $220-million payout from the Yukon government. 

In December 2025, the Na-Cho Nyäk Dun filed a $150-million lawsuit against the Yukon and federal governments, claiming treaty obligations were not upheld and the Eagle Mine was not adequately regulated. In a letter penned to the Auditor General of Canada, the Nah-Cho Nyäk Dun blamed the Yukon government’s “lax approach to permitting, compliance, monitoring and enforcement of mineral activity in the Yukon.” The First Nation is also calling for a public inquiry.

Yukon’s modern-day ‘mineral rush’ despite century-old legislation

It’s hard to keep up with the number of mines currently being advanced in the Yukon. The list is long and projects are at various stages of development.

In Whitehorse, residents don’t have to look beyond the city limits to encounter drilling sites. Gladiator Metals, a B.C.-based company, has been looking for copper, silver and gold in Whitehorse since 2023. In April, the Yukon government approved the company to expand exploration, with some drilling sites located only 800 metres away from residential areas.

The Casino Mine — what would be one of the biggest open-pit copper, silver, and gold mines in the Yukon’s history — is currently under review by the Yukon’s environmental and socio-economic assessment board. The mine is owned by Western Copper and Gold Corporation, a Vancouver-based company.

And then there’s the Mactung mine, owned by Fireweed Metals, which is one of the world’s largest-known deposits of high-grade tungsten. 

What is tungsten? It’s an exceptionally hard, heat-resistant metal that’s sought after for industrial and military manufacturing. Tungsten replaces lead in ammunition. It’s used to make rocket engine nozzles and aircraft parts.

The Mactung mine, located at the end of the North Canol road near the Yukon-Northwest Territories border, is drawing major investment from the Canadian and U.S. governments.

In 2024, Canada and the U.S. Department of Defense announced they’d be investing a combined $35 million toward studies and designs for improving the North Canol road and connecting the electrical transmission line to power operations.

Over a century may have passed since the Klondike Gold Rush, but perhaps it’s never really ended in the Yukon — it’s just traded gold pans for open-pit mines. Today’s national agenda is resulting in a new rush for critical minerals yet the Yukon’s mining legislation remains a century behind.

Updated June 9, 2026 at 9:35 a.m. PT: A previous version of this story stated that in 2025, placer miners harvested $449,000 million in gold revenue from the Yukon. The correct figure is $449 million.

Updated June 11, 2026 at 4:25 p.m. PT: The Yukon Environmental and Socio-economic Assessment Board was previously misidentified as “the Yukon environmental and social assessment board.”

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Summary

• Ontario’s Ministry of the Environment has approved two permits for Kinross Gold’s Great Bear mining project, which Grassy Narrows First Nation is concerned will cause environmental harm and worsen the mercury crisis the nation already endures.
• The ministry previously approved a similar permit, but the company withdrew it after Grassy Narrows brought its concerns to the Ontario Land Tribunal.
• The nation is now looking to appeal the new permits, arguing they present the same problems as the first one.

Ontario’s Environment Ministry has, for a second time, approved permits for a gold mining exploration project that a nearby First Nation says could worsen the region’s decades-old mercury crisis.

And that nation is, also for a second time, looking to appeal the permits.

The nation, Asubpeeschoseewagong Netum Anishinabek (Grassy Narrows First Nation), successfully took the first step towards appealing a similar permit for Kinross Gold’s Great Bear mining project in 2025, with the Ontario Land Tribunal agreeing with the First Nation’s evidence for environmental concerns. Kinross withdrew that permit before the appeal could be heard.

Kinross applied again for similar permits in 2025, one for taking water and the other for discharging it, which the Ministry of the Environment issued on April 17. The nation is arguing the ministry was unreasonable to issue the permits due to the potential impacts of discharging sulphates from the wastewater into the environment, which leads to methylmercury production, a potent neurotoxin.

Richard Lindgren from the Canadian Environmental Law Association, and one of the lawyers representing Grassy Narrows, told The Narwhal in an interview the nation submitted its application for leave on May 7.

It was submitted to the Ontario Land Tribunal under the Environmental Bill of Rights appeals framework. In it, Grassy Narrows and a team of experts argue the approvals would worsen the mercury crisis the community suffers from as a result of a pulp and paper mill discharging approximately 10 tonnes of mercury into the Wabigoon-English River system in the 1960s and ’70s.

Grassy Narrows holds an annual “River Run” for mercury justice each fall, and has been demonstrating at events with both provincial and federal politicians, seeking resolution and recognition for the mercury contamination that has resulted in things like tremors, cognitive effects and neuromuscular disorders. 

In a separate case, Grassy Narrows took the province to court this month over similar sulphate discharge concerns from the Madsen gold mine, owned by West Red Lake Gold Mines Ltd., also upstream of the nation. A decision has not yet been released.

Meanwhile, in February, the Ontario government under Premier Doug Ford designated the Kinross Gold project under its One Project, One Process framework for fast-tracking development.

The Ministry of the Environment and the Ministry of Mines did not respond to a request for comment from The Narwhal. Samantha Sheffield, director of corporate communications for Kinross Gold, said in an email to The Narwhal the permit approval process took “nearly three years to complete,” and “resulted in strict conditions for environmental protection.”

She said the company provided Grassy Narrows with more than $750,000 in funding to assist in reviewing the permits, and conducted extensive consultation with the First Nation.

The Narwhal reached out to representatives from Grassy Narrows First Nation but did not receive a response by publication time.

Grassy Narrows is concerned mine approvals will increase mercury levels in fish

In April, Ontario’s Ministry of the Environment, Conservation and Parks issued two approvals to Kinross Gold, the first being a five-year water-taking permit which allows Kinross to draw 2.9 million litres — more than an Olympic swimming pool’s volume — of surface and groundwater combined per day. 

The second is known as an environmental compliance approval, and is for the treatment and discharge of that water back into the environment.

Lindgren said the nation and its experts reviewed the new permits and “still found them wanting,” adding they “still raised concerns about excessive discharge of sulphate that will facilitate or stimulate methylmercury production, which will lead to bioaccumulation in fish and consumers of fish, including the people of Grassy Narrows.” 

Sulphates released in mining wastewater are gobbled up by bacteria in river bottoms and other areas, which then react, turning mercury already present in the environment into methylmercury. This methylmercury accumulates in fish and other aquatic species within the river system, and can extend up in the food chain to top predators, such as humans, through a process known as biomagnification. 

Fish are an important food source for the Grassy Narrows community. “It’s not as if members of Grassy Narrows can just go to the local grocery store and substitute other food for fisheries,” Lindgren said.

“They have a treaty that guarantees them the right to continue to hunt and trap and fish, etc. So that’s a concern — that allowing the discharge of these deleterious materials into the watercourses will adversely affect their constitutionally protected rights.”

Mining approvals based on existing levels of mercury, which experts say are too high

An update to the environmental compliance approval, posted on Ontario’s environmental registry, indicated that, in response to concerns about mercury and impacts on fish, the Ministry of the Environment “adopted a conservative approach to address sulphate discharge.” That approach is requiring that “any discharge must meet the background concentration of the receiving environment” — in other words, the same level that’s already in the watercourse.

The nation and its team of experts say the history of mercury contamination in the area sets that benchmark level higher than it would otherwise be.

“So there’s a lot of concern that, you know, the so-called background limits are artificially high and will allow for the additional input of sulphate and the additional creation of methymercury,” Lindgren added. 

Sheffield, with Kinross, said the permit imposes limits designed to “maintain naturally occurring background levels in the environment, in accordance with provincial policy.” She said the company accepted the limits in response to the concerns raised by Grassy Narrows First Nation, “to demonstrate a precautionary approach, despite the absence of scientific evidence supporting the asserted risks.”

The scientific concerns Grassy Narrows brought forward previously — and is again raising alongside newer and more extensive evidence — were accepted by the Ontario Land Tribunal when it granted the nation its first leave to appeal.

As the project proceeds, Sheffield said, “Kinross will continue to engage with all interested Indigenous communities, including Wabauskang, Lac Seul and Grassy Narrows, in the same spirit of open dialogue and respect. In everything we do, we prioritize the health and well-being of the people, land and environment.”

To proceed to the appeal stage, Grassy Narrows must pass a two-part test under the Environmental Bill of Rights: showing that, according to law, it was unreasonable for the ministry to issue the permits and that issuing them could result in significant harm to the environment.

“It’s the same test and the same argument this time around,” Lindgren explained, and they’ll be relying on the same experts — including Brian Branfireun, a Western University professor and leading expert in mercury and methylmercury for more than 20 years — to argue their case.

The tribunal still has to grant that leave to appeal, which would give the nation the chance to broaden their argument around the potential impacts of the permits granted to Kinross.

Lindgren said that if the two-part test is passed, the nation will file an appeal to have both permit approvals revoked.

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Summary

• Last week, Prime Minister Mark Carney’s government proposed major changes to the federal assessment process for mining, oil and gas and other infrastructure projects.
• The proposed changes include shifting assessments from an agency under the federal environment minister to regulators that report to the natural resources minister.
• Former ministers, First Nations and environmental advocates are criticizing the proposal, some calling it a more significant rollback of environmental law than was seen under former prime minister Stephen Harper.

Last year, Prime Minister Mark Carney established an office tasked with fast-tracking handpicked major industrial projects. Now, he says that’s not enough. He has a new proposal on the table meant to roll out the red carpet for all projects requiring federal approval, including pipelines, mines, transmission lines and other infrastructure.

The proposal, unveiled last week, would create “federal economic zones” where certain developments can be “pre-approved,” and provide exceptions to several rules governing fossil fuel and nuclear oversight, habitat preservation, species at risk protection and major project reviews.

It would fundamentally change the way the country scrutinizes industrial development and consults with Indigenous Peoples, in some cases shifting reviews at an agency under the purview of the environment minister over to federal bodies that report to the natural resources minister.

The government outlined its plan in two discussion papers, but it will need to flesh out the details and formally introduce them as part of new legislation, before they can be implemented in law. The Liberals are now able to pass legislation much easier, after they secured a Parliamentary majority following April’s byelections and the addition of five floor-crossing MPs to their caucus.

The House of Commons is on a two-week break, scheduled to return May 25. Meanwhile, the proposal is open for public comment through June 7. 

Here’s what you need to know.

Who wanted this change? Who didn’t?

The government says the alterations are necessary so Canada can better compete with other countries for investment dollars, and strengthen the Indigenous consultation process. It said the process to build things is “often slow, expensive and confusing” and the government must “go further to streamline review and approvals processes.”

The Canadian Chamber of Commerce, which represents businesses across the country, also believes the government’s fast-tracking regime has “not gone far enough” and is hoping Carney continues to “peel back some of the red tape layers that have been holding back business success.”

Canada’s oil and gas industry has consistently advocated since Carney took office for his government to overhaul environmental assessments to turbocharge fossil fuel growth. Industry executives have personally pushed this position despite the industry enjoying big profits off the war in Iran, and despite the scientific conclusion that carbon pollution, of which the oil and gas industry is the largest contributor in Canada, is furthering destructive climate change that is leading to myriad health problems and premature death for Canadians.

Two former Liberal environment ministers have harshly criticized Carney’s proposal. Liberal MP Steven Guilbeault, who was the federal environment minister from 2021 to 2025, told the Toronto Star Carney’s plan is “worse” than the changes under former Conservative prime minister Stephen Harper, which resulted in some high-profile legal challenges. Former Liberal MP Catherine McKenna, who held the same post from 2015 to 2019, told the Canadian Press Carney’s proposal will lead to a “lack of trust” and lawsuits, ultimately making the project approval process slower, not faster.

Ecojustice, an environmental law charity, has described the changes as potentially ushering in “the biggest rollback of environmental protections in a generation.” The Assembly of Manitoba Chiefs, which represents 63 First Nations in that province, said it raises “serious concerns that Canada is moving toward a system where speed takes precedence over Treaty obligations, environmental stewardship and First Nations consent.”

The government wants to create ‘federal economic zones’ where developments are ‘pre-approved’

Carney’s government wants to legalize “federal economic zones” which it says could include areas designated for energy production and transmission, industrial regions, transportation and telecommunications. 

Inside these zones, the government would “pre-approve” certain developments, subject to conditions, and exempt projects from requiring individual environmental reviews — instead just requiring one overarching assessment.

It said the zones, and the activities allowed in them, would be “clearly defined.” Consultation with Indigenous Peoples would be a “key part” of the process, it added, including on determining the conditions for development inside the zones. The agreement of provinces is also “essential,” it said.

“This co-operation between federal and provincial governments would allow projects to be fast-tracked under both federal and provincial regimes,” reads the discussion paper. 

Sound familiar? Ontario passed similar legislation last year

A provincial regime is already in place in Ontario, after Premier Doug Ford’s government passed Bill 5 last year. The bill established the similar-sounding Special Economic Zones Act. Inside Ontario’s economic zones, the government can select certain proponents and projects, and exempt them from some municipal by-laws and provincial laws, including environmental protections. 

Critics have said Ontario’s law threatens wetlands, watersheds, peatlands and endangered species, and the Indigenous communities who rely on them. It’s subject to a court challenge from First Nations, asking for the law to be found unconstitutional.

The federal economic zones would be enabled through regional assessments, which are already an approach used by the Impact Assessment Agency of Canada to examine the cumulative effects of development in a given area. 

There is currently an ongoing federal regional assessment in the Ring of Fire, the mineral-rich area in the James Bay Lowlands known as Bakitanaamowin Aki, or “the Breathing Lands,” and Mammamattawa, or “many rivers coming together,” by the First Nations that call it home. 

Days after passing Bill 5, Ford said he would designate the Ring of Fire a special economic zone under Ontario law “as quickly as possible.” But in March this year, in a sudden shift in tone, Ford said he didn’t “need” to use these powers anymore to develop the area due to partnerships with several, but not all, First Nations communities in the region.

The Ontario government has long spoken about the region becoming a major mining hub. But an interim Ring of Fire regional assessment report has pointed to the need for environmental monitoring in the area’s boreal forest and peatlands, and the need for communities to urgently access health care. 

The provincial government, meanwhile, has been withholding scientific data and funding as part of the assessment process, and is not at the table with the First Nations and federal government representatives seeing it through, The Narwhal has reported.

New rules would change the role of the federal environmental review agency

Carney’s proposal would remove the ability of the Impact Assessment Agency of Canada to examine any pipeline projects that cross provincial or national borders, as well as any transmission lines or “offshore renewable energy projects.”

The agency, accountable to Environment, Climate Change and Nature Minister Julie Dabrusin, examines projects for sustainability, environmental protection and Indigenous Rights. It carries out its assessments “grounded in sound science, rigorous process and due diligence,” according to its website.

“Does Canada need to weaken its environmental laws to allow projects to proceed? No,” the agency declares on a frequently asked questions page. “Do federal policies prevent LNG, oil or pipeline projects from moving forward in Canada? No.”

Carney’s government is now of the opinion that issues like “poor coordination between government departments” are slowing down projects like pipelines. The government is proposing to shift assessments of certain projects away from the agency and over to two regulators that report to Natural Resources Minister Tim Hodgson. 

The job of reviewing all cross-border pipelines, transmission lines and offshore renewables would go to the Canada Energy Regulator, while the Canadian Nuclear Safety Commission would handle project reviews related to nuclear and uranium projects.

The government would also have the power to declare major pipelines “in the public interest,” before the energy regulator is required to complete its review of the project’s conditions or where the pipe would actually be laid.

At the same time, the government is proposing that the Impact Assessment Agency become the home of a new “Crown consultation hub” that would “ensure that each Indigenous group affected by a major project goes through one clear and coordinated consultation process for each project.” 

It is also proposing to assign the federal review coordinator at the agency the job of ensuring project assessments and federal permits “stay on track.” The government said it would change the law to ensure project reviews and permit reviews “happen at the same time” and that a federal decision would take no longer than one year.

Sound familiar again? Carney isn’t the first leader to try to fast-track industrial projects

Carney’s proposal is reminiscent of a shift that happened under Harper’s government, which tried to accelerate environmental assessments by moving more oil and gas oversight to the energy regulator’s predecessor, the National Energy Board, in 2012.

Years later, the National Energy Board came under scrutiny after the Federal Court of Appeal quashed the government’s approval of the Trans Mountain oil pipeline expansion project, saying the board’s review of the project was flawed. The former Northern Gateway pipeline proposal also had its federal permits overturned by the Federal Court.

Former prime minister Justin Trudeau’s government passed the Impact Assessment Act and Canadian Energy Regulator Act, collectively through Bill C-69, allowing the government to consider the impact of natural resource projects on issues like climate change. But a Supreme Court of Canada decision in 2023 found the assessment scheme “largely unconstitutional,” forcing Trudeau’s government to introduce a revised version of the law in 2024.

There will be new exemptions to Canada’s species at risk law and fish permits

Carney’s government wants to change “some federal laws” that it argued can make the regulatory process “slow, repetitive and less flexible.” One of these appears to be the Species At Risk Act, a federal law passed in 2002 that is meant to prevent species extinction and help with population recovery. 

The law has a clause known as the “jeopardy test,” that restricts permits for an activity affecting a species or its critical habitat, unless the government believes the activity “will not jeopardize the survival or recovery of the species.”

Carney’s proposal would give the government the power to exempt projects from the application of this test. It said the power would be “limited” and have a “high threshold to be met,” would have to be in the “public interest” and would have to come after the proponent has made “all reasonable efforts” to avoid impacts.

The government also wants to offer more flexibility for permits that impact fish and fish habitat, when it comes to compensating for environmental harm. And it would allow “some early construction activities to start” before the government decides on the merits of a project, “if necessary permits are approved.”

Carney’s proposal also allows ministers to adjust certain conditions of a project assessment “in exceptional circumstances” and “adjust environmental conditions for projects of national interest, when needed.”

And it would hand the environment minister the power to issue a single federal document for certain projects that would include all federal decisions “required for a project to move forward.” It said experts in different departments would still review the project and provide advice, and enforcement would still be handled by the departments responsible. 

The changes come after Ford’s government in Ontario also removed the province’s Endangered Species Act and replaced it with the Species Conservation Act this year. That has had the effect of removing protection from many species.

After Ontario’s change, some threatened fish and birds are now only protected by federal laws. 

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Summary

• In briefing notes, officials with Canada’s natural resources department compared a federal office to a White House council tasked with stewarding energy projects forward.
• Canada’s Major Projects Office is meant to speed up developments including natural gas and mining.
• A First Nations leader noted Canada’s different constitutional framework, while environmental experts and advocates cautioned against following Trump’s push for “energy dominance.”

Prime Minister Mark Carney’s special office for speeding up major projects “operates similarly” to U.S. President Donald Trump’s energy “tiger team,” according to internal Canadian government records.

The comparison between Carney’s Major Projects Office and the president’s National Energy Dominance Council, or NEDC, are contained in a briefing note for Canadian Energy Minister Tim Hodgson that was obtained by The Narwhal through an access to information request.

“The NEDC operates similarly to the Major Projects Office,” the briefing note from Natural Resources Canada reads, “providing support to advance projects efficiently and address issues that may impede progress. It is a small group of officials working at the centre of government to facilitate decision-making.”

According to a description by one of its senior advisers, the U.S. council, which was created within the Executive Office of the president, is conceived as a “tiger team,” or a group of specialists hired to solve a specific problem. It offers “concierge, white glove service” to get mining and fossil fuel projects approved fast, the advisor said.

It’s chaired by U.S. Interior Secretary Doug Burgum, who has close ties to oil and gas producers, and the team has been involved in promoting mining, natural gas and a pipeline in Alaska. The briefing note shows Hodgson was scheduled to meet with Burgum last October.

Six months after Trump’s council was formed, Carney launched the Major Projects Office with a mandate to “streamline and accelerate” regulatory approvals for “nation-building” projects. The office is backed by the Privy Council Office, the department that supports the prime minister and cabinet.

So far, the prime minister has referred five mining projects and two natural gas projects to the office, as well as others in nuclear, electricity, ports and roads. He put Dawn Farrell, the former CEO of the oil pipeline company Trans Mountain, in charge.

During a visit to an energy conference in Houston in March, Hodgson remarked on the closeness of his office’s relationship with Burgum, and said, “the U.S. wants to achieve energy dominance. We support you in that view.”

The Narwhal approached Hodgson after he gave a speech at a First Nations Major Projects Coalition conference in Toronto on April 30, to ask about the comparison his department made with Trump’s team. The minister, while walking through the conference and chatting with an attendee, twice avoided taking questions, saying he was too busy. Another official suggested contacting his office.

A spokesperson for Natural Resources Canada said the comparison between the Major Projects Office and the U.S. council “was intended as a high-level description of function — not a statement of equivalence in mandate, governance or approach.”

The department also noted Canada’s “distinct constitutional, legal and policy framework that reflects our values and obligations” and said Canada’s office is “not limited to a single industry or sector.”

Treaty 8 Grand Chief says comparisons between Canada and U.S. approaches to development should be ‘treated very carefully’

Carney has pitched the Major Projects Office as working “in partnership” with Indigenous Peoples. He held summits last year with First Nations, Inuit and Métis rights holders. The office’s Indigenous Advisory Council is meant to help guide its work.

Grand Chief Trevor Mercredi, of Treaty 8 First Nations of Alberta, sits on the Major Projects Office’s Indigenous Advisory Council. He reacted to the comparison by noting that Canada’s different constitutional framework, including the Crown’s obligations to First Nations, means “speed cannot come at the expense of Treaty Rights.”

“What I can say is that any comparison between the Major Projects Office and a U.S. energy permitting model has to be treated very carefully. Canada operates within a different constitutional framework,” Mercredi said, including Treaty Rights, land claims and the duty to consult. “The Crown’s obligations to First Nations cannot be treated as permitting issues or obstacles to be managed around.”

He said there is value in the Major Projects Office if it improves government transparency and coordination and ensures First Nations are meaningfully involved in decisions that affect their lands, waters and Treaty Rights.

“But if the purpose is to simply move projects faster by narrowing, bypassing or compressing Crown obligations, that would be a serious concern,” he said.

Mercredi said his role on the Indigenous Advisory Council does not replace direct consultation with rights-holding nations and doesn’t satisfy the Crown’s legal obligations.

For Treaty 8 nations, he said, the issue isn’t whether Canada can build major projects — it’s whether Canada will honour treaties, respect First Nations jurisdiction and ensure decisions are made with “proper consultation, accommodation, environmental protection and real participation by the nations whose territories are affected.”

Canada’s Bill C-5 faces strong opposition, and a lawsuit

The government passed the Building Canada Act, part of Bill C-5, in June 2025, cementing a process in law to name projects in the “national interest.”

It has seen strong opposition from some Indigenous communities, as well as public interest groups, who argue it paves the way for the government to circumvent oversight that’s meant to protect the environment, public health and scientific integrity.

The Quebec Environmental Law Centre has launched a legal action asking the courts to strike down the law. The group announced April 27 it had gathered 11 other organizations who seek to intervene in the lawsuit.

The law centre’s executive director Geneviève Paul, reacting to the documents from the natural resources department, said decisions made behind closed doors are not in the interest of Canadians.

“The government of Canada needs to act responsibly and defend our institutions, not follow authoritarian trends and copy the jurisdictions which are dismantling the protections we need to move forward safely,” she said.

Keith Stewart, senior energy strategist at Greenpeace Canada, said it was “telling” that the federal department itself was comparing the two offices.

“I think many Canadians who voted for an ‘elbows up’ agenda would be surprised to learn that our natural resources minister went to Houston [in March] to tell Americans that he wants to help the Trump administration achieve energy dominance, which is code for expanding fossil fuels at any cost,” Stewart said.

Updated on May 5, 2026, at 11:30 a.m. ET: This story has been updated to include a statement from Natural Resources Canada that was sent after the given deadline.

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Summary

• B.C.’s throne speech was not delivered in 2026 due to the tragic shooting in Tumbler Ridge.
• The Narwhal obtained a copy of the speech via freedom of information request.
• The unshared speech gives an insight into B.C.’s priorities which include mining and liquefied natural gas (LNG).

In a typical year, the spring sitting of the B.C. legislature starts with a throne speech.

The speech from the throne — as the document is formally known — is delivered by the lieutenant-governor on behalf of the provincial government. It is a snapshot of the political moment, a mixture of policies and milestones the government of the day considers accomplishments, as well as hints about legislative priorities for the coming months.

For journalists who cover the legislature, the throne speech is an opportunity to peer at the political tea leaves and guess at what lies ahead.

But in 2026, the government’s planned throne speech was never presented in the legislature. Two days before its scheduled delivery, a horrific event occurred in the small town of Tumbler Ridge, B.C.: a mass shooting that resulted in the deaths of nine people, many of them students and staff at Tumbler Ridge Secondary School.

In the wake of the tragedy, the date set for the throne speech was postponed and the province observed a day of mourning. A few days later, Lieutenant-Governor Wendy Cocchia delivered a short and somber speech dedicated to the community of Tumbler Ridge.

But what was in the speech the government was poised to deliver? The Narwhal filed a freedom of information request for a copy of the speech with Premier David Eby’s office. And we received a mostly un-redacted copy.

Over the year ahead, the B.C. government plans to continue championing liquefied natural gas (LNG) and mining development, which — along with forestry — form the province’s economic foundation, according to the speech.

“This natural inheritance remains central to our future prosperity,” the speech says.British Columbians should look forward to “a more sustainable forestry sector,” even as tariffs imposed by the United States continue to bite, the speech says. The government will also continue to work toward “delivering B.C. energy to growing markets” — supporting companies producing LNG to ship to markets on the other side of the Pacific — and “driving momentum on critical minerals,” it says.

A section of the speech is dedicated to the North Coast transmission line, which the government says will deliver “clean, reliable electricity needed to unlock tens of billions of dollars worth of private sector projects across” northwest B.C. The transmission line may almost exclusively serve large industrial customers, such as the Ksi Lisims LNG facility and multiple proposed mines. But its cost, which was most recently estimated at $6 billion for a little more than half the line’s length, will be shared between all BC Hydro ratepayers. 

The North Coast transmission line will be built “in true partnership with First Nations,” the throne speech says before it segues into a section titled “Reconciliation and Partnerships with Indigenous Peoples.”

‘Reconciliation is the responsibility of elected governments,’ throne speech says

For its next 431 words, the throne speech highlights the importance of reconciliation with First Nations and the work the province has done since the unanimous passage of the Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples Act in November 2019. It affirms the existence of Aboriginal Title, recognized by Canadian courts and in the Canadian Constitution.

“Reconciliation is the responsibility of elected governments,” according to the throne speech. 

“Repealing the Declaration Act, or walking away from negotiations with First Nations, would not change that reality,” the throne speech says. “It would create chaos, delays, lost jobs, and endless lawsuits.”

On page 13, the tone of the speech shifts as it mentions “recent court decisions [that] have raised questions about what reconciliation means in practice.” While those decisions aren’t named in the speech, the province is seeking to appeal a December 2025 decision by the B.C. Court of Appeal, which agreed with an argument from the Gitxaała and Ehattesaht First Nations that the government’s obligations under the Declaration Act — to align provincial laws with the principles of the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples — are legally enforceable.

Since December, Eby has been touting plans to amend the Declaration Act to “address some serious legal liabilities that were created … through the court decision.” This angered First Nations leaders across B.C., who told Eby in a meeting last week that his plans to amend the law were “totally unacceptable.” So, on April 2, he made an abrupt announcement saying he would suspend parts of the Declaration Act and the Interpretation Act in the coming weeks instead.

However, suspension still requires legislative amendments, which will be voted on in the legislature by May 28. 

Eby said he is willing to risk the future of his government to get it done.

“This will be a confidence vote,” Eby told reporters on April 2. That means if the majority of MLAs vote against the legislation, the NDP government will have lost the confidence of the house, likely triggering a snap election.

These plans to change the landmark Indigenous Rights law over the objections of many First Nations leaders seem contradictory to the throne speech promise that the B.C. government “will not abandon responsibility for reconciliation.”

You can read the entire 25 pages of the throne speech here, except for a few lines redacted by the premier’s office under section 12 of the Freedom of Information and Protection of Privacy Act, which covers matters discussed in cabinet. 

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Summary

• The Government of Ontario is overhauling the mine permitting process to funnel all stages through the relatively new Ministry of Energy and Mines, under the “one project, one process” system.
• Many First Nations leaders have voiced concerns about how this will impact consultation, and the burden it places on Indigenous communities.
• Some mining companies are already seeing how this fast-tracking could play out, and say no corners will be cut.

In early March, dozens of digital billboards across Toronto’s Union Station repeatedly flashed four words that have become synonymous with economic survival for the Doug Ford government: “one project, one process.”

The phrase welcomed people travelling through the central transit hub on their way to the world’s largest annual mining conference, held by the Prospectors and Developers Association of Canada. It was an overwhelming four-day affair, where more than 32,000 people talked deals, investments and pretty rocks in faraway places and how to get them out of the ground. 

This year’s conference — the largest ever — began a day after the United States and Israel attacked Iran, setting in motion a crippling squeeze on oil supply that has raised gas prices to levels not seen in decades and killing thousands of people. But that didn’t hamper the very loud buzz at the conference. In some respects, it may have upped the volume.

The urgency for a homemade solution to tackle global crises (mainly Donald Trump) had increased once more — and Ontario had a (four-word) plan that is still, for all the fanfare, an untested experience, unknown to many.

Though outward-facing, the plan is actually predicated on reshaping the way the government works internally, to guide and greenlight proposals for mining and development faster through the bureaucracy. The promise: one project ushered through one massive, clear and quicker process. 

“It’s a huge shakeup,” one former Ministry of Mines official told The Narwhal. “It’s a huge disruption from how we would all typically work.”

The enormity of this internal shift was evident in the sprawling halls of the Metro Convention Centre. There, government ministers, led by Energy and Mines Minister Stephen Lecce, met seemingly every global delegation with the message of “one project, one process” — colloquially called “1P1P” — and how it would turn Ontario into “the world’s reliable partner.” Ministry staff answered questions in packed rooms about how to figure out if “1P1P was right for you.” The three companies that had already been accepted into the fast-tracking process were the stars of a crowded trade show, including one that talked at length with The Narwhal.

While expediency might yield positive results for the mining industry, for some First Nation leaders who attended the conference, there is an obvious loss: important things, like consultation and consent, could also be fast-tracked, or missed completely. There was also frustration over the many crises that, for decades, have not been granted the same urgency: clean drinking water, basic health-care services, housing. 

“We still don’t have any clarity on what fast-track or ‘one project, one process’ really means,” Ontario Regional Chief Abram Benedict told The Narwhal. “We’re all still kind of unsure.” 

Four other First Nations leaders told The Narwhal the same thing: no one in government had talked to them yet about the process, let alone what it means for their communities, which are already on the frontlines of resource extraction and its aftermath. 

The next 12 to 18 months, Benedict said, will “become the real test” of the government’s four-word fast-tracking policy, both provincially and nationally.

‘A trailblazer or a guinea pig’

Just outside Red Lake, Ont., 100 kilometres east of the Ontario-Manitoba border, is the proposed site for the largest lithium mine in the province. The company hoping to build it, Frontier Lithium, says the mine could help supply electric-vehicle battery manufacturers. It was the first project to be designated on Ontario’s “one project, one process” list. The Sudbury-based mining company was assured a 24-month approval by the Ford government. 

“We’re either a trailblazer or a guinea pig,” Clara Lauziere, Frontier Lithium’s director of sustainability, told The Narwhal.

Three years ago, Lauziere was working in the Ministry of Mines, navigating a process she described as inefficient and uncoordinated. “Had I known 1P1P was coming, I might have stayed,” she said. 

As she explains it, the regulatory system in Ontario and Canada has some of the highest environmental standards, but it’s also one of the most complex globally. “There’s never been a real road map on how to permit a mine and how to do it effectively,” she said, because every project is different. Until last October, mining companies had to work with multiple ministries that didn’t communicate well, which she said resulted in a lot of repetition and confusion for both industry and Indigenous communities. 

“Consultation fatigue was huge,” she said. Some of the communities she spoke to as a ministry official had received six or seven letters from several different ministries about the same project. In the same vein, companies were receiving multiple directives from different ministries about which Indigenous communities to consult about different parts of the project. 

All of this inevitably resulted in delays for permits; 15 years of delay, according to the Ford government, though it hasn’t given examples of when bureaucracy alone tangled a mining project up for that long. With the new process, that will purportedly go down to two years. “Certainty is everything,” Lauziere said, “especially when you’ve never had it.” 

That’s why she was bombarded with questions in every room she went to at the conference. “People want to know if they can really believe this is actually going to happen,” she said. The short answer appears to be yes, but it depends on a sustained commitment from industry to also be ready and committed with the right paperwork, detailed studies, accurate data and robust consultation plans. “I think the key is really just being willing to work with the government and communities,” she said. 

In other words, as a government official told a packed room at the mining conference, “this is not a one-way street” but “a tremendous effort that requires everyone to be at the table.”

When Frontier Lithium was accepted into the new system, the company “had everything ready,” Lauziere said. In response, they were assigned a bureaucrat to be their main point of contact throughout the process, leading a team of officials across ministries. The company was provided a detailed 24-month timeline of steps this team would be completing in partnership with them. 

In early March, the Independent Electricity System Operator, the Crown agency in charge of electricity supply and demand, proactively reached out to Frontier Lithium to discuss energy needs for their proposed mine after the company was selected for fast-tracking. “So there’s a lot of coordination and pressure there on priority projects,” Lauziere said, including from the mining minister himself. 

In mid-March, Frontier Lithium received a single directive identifying all the communities that need to be consulted for the entire project. “Now, we can have confidence that we know who we need to talk to and what the potential impact on rights are going to be, so we can have meaningful conversations,” Lauziere said. “That level of detail and consolidation is incredibly valuable for communities and companies.”

Frontier Lithium is expecting a permit by the fall of 2027, so the new process does appear to be faster. Lauziere said if any concerns crop up with their proposal over this period, the company expects to resolve them with the government and communities. 

“No corners are cut in the process,” she added. “And nothing changes on the consultation front.” What “one process, one project” does is make the consultation process clearer for every company. 

“Yes, we want to build a mine,” Lauziere said, “but we also want a relationship that lasts 50 years.” 

“As the first, we all kind of have to get it right.”

Fear of the fast track

Ontario’s push to fast-track mines, and promises it can happen without sacrificing free, prior and informed consent from First Nations, hasn’t landed with everyone. 

“The idea of fast-tracking really scares me,” Natasha Martin, Deputy Grand Chief of Mushkegowuk Council, told an overflowing room of miners and government staffers at the March conference. 

She repeated the same sentiment to The Narwhal in an interview later. “That means that it’s a very fast job — a rush job — and we’re taking something that has taken years prior down to six months. That scares me, because then there will be things that won’t be properly captured or looked at.”

Martin’s fear highlights a deep disconnect in the ways industry and First Nations understand “one project, one process.”

While companies are quickly gaining extensive knowledge of what it all means for them, many First Nations say they have been left in the dark. And they remain especially skeptical about the effectiveness of environmental and community risk assessments under the streamlined process. In no small part, because it was initially proposed in Bill 5, a controversial legislation that allows for “special economic zones” where “designated projects” can evade provincial laws.

Bill 5 was written without the government holding a single consultation with Indigenous communities, although many would be significantly impacted by an increase in mining and development activity — and have historically not reaped the financial or social rewards of such industry. Nine First Nations have challenged the law in court, arguing that it is unconstitutional.

Complicating matters further is that just as Ontario speeds up development approvals, the federal government has created its own office with a similar mandate. The Crawford Nickel project, outside Timmins, is being considered for fast-tracking at both levels. And recently, Frontier Lithium has been named to another list of projects for “federal permitting coordination.” 

On the one hand, Lauziere credits the “one project, one process” system for setting them up perfectly for federal fast-tracking. On the other hand, early signs show choppy collaboration between levels of government could be a new drag on momentum, even as First Nations around Red Lake appear ready to work with both.

Lauziere agreed that if things are going to be sped up, there will inherently be added pressure on First Nations. She called it “an unintended consequence” that will require Ontario to actively work on better informing and communicating with Indigenous communities. 

“We really haven’t seen much of a difference on the ground yet,” Jason Batise, the executive director of the Wabun Tribal Council, told The Narwhal. The regional council for five First Nations around Timmins has honed a consultation framework to manage the deluge of mine consultations over the last two decades. That includes Crawford Nickel, with whom Batise says the First Nation has a good relationship.

Batise is clear: “Consultation has never been a bottleneck to responsible development.” 

“We don’t really yet see any sort of distinct acceleration of 1P1P, but we know it’s coming,” he said. “And if I had one concern, it would be the expectation from developers to fast-track consultation.” 

“Because at that point, 1P1P is going to get challenged by the nations.” Historically, mining projects have been delayed by protests or legal challenges from nations that feel their constitutional rights were not properly met.  

Batise isn’t the only one watching the fast-tracking process carefully. Many Indigenous leaders came to the mining conference with messages of vigilance, reminding attendees that First Nations were not “carbon copies,” and neither are their territories.

Even as the process to approve mining projects speeds up, communities like Neskantaga First Nation, in the Ring of Fire region, are dealing with simultaneous crises. When Bill 5 passed, the nation’s only health-care centre was flooded and inoperational. There continues to be a chronic housing shortage; those that are standing are plagued by mould. There is a 31-year boil advisory in effect, the longest in the region. 

“It’s hard to understand. It’s moving so fast,” Chief Gary Quisses told The Narwhal at the mining conference. He fears that despite its moniker, the “one project, one process” system will open the doors to multiple projects in their communities that all bypass First Nations consent, and needs. 

“I don’t even have 9-1-1, I can’t even use that number. I don’t have a fire truck. I don’t have an ambulance, paramedics, anything,” he said. “And here, the government is trying to push and take our resources away.”

Batise is cautiously hopeful, noting that industry has lately had its “come-to-Jesus moment with First Nations,” developing meaningful partnerships based in equity. But he too worries the fast-tracking process may become a catalyst for companies to prioritize their bottom line. 

“The government is telling industry 1P1P will be better for them. They’re also telling nations that faster is better for them,” he said. “The difference is that industry is getting what they want, but communities are not.”

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In January, Todd Stone, the president and chief executive officer of the Association for Mineral Exploration British Columbia, told the crowd assembled for the association’s conference about a lobby meeting he had with Premier David Eby. Stone joked that he opened by congratulating the premier on his “success on 30-by-30.” 

The crowd began to chuckle as he continued his story about provincial and national targets for protecting 30 per cent of land and water by 2030.

“You’ve actually accomplished 47 by 2025,” he recalled telling the premier. He then recounted asking: “Can we start having a conversation about pulling some land back?”

That figure comes from a policy paper published in December 2025 by the association, arguing “up to 46.99 per cent” of British Columbia was protected land. That’s far more than the federal government’s figure of 19.9 per cent, and would surpass the province’s 30-by-30 pledge. 

According to Stone, a former minister under the B.C. Liberals, the comments led to the premier directing “the staff at the [Water, Lands and Resource Stewardship Ministry] to go back and look at all their numbers and sit down with us.”

According to public records, the association lobbied at least a dozen members of B.C.’s NDP government in late 2025 to press their argument. Those include the speaker, the minister of forests, the minister of labour, the minister of energy and climate solutions, the minister of mining and critical minerals and Randene Neill, the minister of water, lands and resource stewardship.

On Dec. 2, 2025, Minister Neill poured cold water on the lobbying effort.

“It is inaccurate to suggest these areas are currently fully protected when they are not,” she said. A section of the statement attributed to the ministry went on to add that many of the so-called protected areas cited in the association’s policy paper “do not restrict all resource activities that can negatively affect biodiversity.”

Torrance Coste, associate director at the Wilderness Committee, remembers seeing Minister Neill’s statement shared on an email list used by the province’s conservation groups. He described it as “encouraging” at the time. But Stone’s comments, and more recent statements by the ministry, have him worried.

According to a statement emailed to The Narwhal, the Ministry of Water, Lands, and Resource Stewardship said it is “developing an updated approach” to tracking the province’s progress towards the 30-by-30 conservation goal and appreciated the association’s “feedback as we proceed through this work.”

“This work includes a review of all existing areas within B.C. that have conservation measures in place or have restrictions on resource activity,” the ministry explained. 

To complete that review, they added they are working with “other resource sector ministries, including Forests, Mining and Critical Minerals, and Energy and Climate Solutions” as well as “industry and environmental non-governmental organizations.”

Coste thinks this could be a sign that the ministry is considering adopting some of the Association for Mineral Exploration’s definitions for protected lands. Something he describes “a naked attempt to lobby against the expansion of protected areas committed to by the governments of B.C. and Canada through the 30-by-30 commitment.”

“The Association for Mineral Exploration’s proposal has absolutely nothing to do with conservation,” he said. “The fact [that] the BC NDP government is even looking at the association’s nonsense is a huge scandal”. 

The Narwhal reached out to the Association for Mineral Exploration British Columbia regarding the meeting Stone described between himself and Eby, but did not receive a response by publication time. The premier’s office directed questions about the comments to the Ministry of Lands, Water, and Resource Stewardship, which sent the statement cited above. 

Conservation groups say the math doesn’t add up 

Despite the ministry’s statement that both “industry and environmental non-governmental organizations” are involved in the process of reviewing conservation measures and goals, Coste says the ministry has not contacted the Wilderness Committee.

The Narwhal did learn that the British Columbia office of the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society had been engaged in conversations about how the province calculates protected lands. But those conversations began prior to the Association for Mineral Exploration’s recent lobbying, according to Coste and others The Narwhal interviewed for this story.

Coste says that if the province reaches out to him, his first move would be sharing “photos from this year of massive clear cuts in critical caribou habitat.”

These photos, he explains, are from areas designated as ungulate winter range. A land designation under the Forest and Range Practices Act, it’s meant to protect critical winter habitat for species such as mountain goats, elk, bighorn sheep, deer, moose and caribou. It also accounts for 17.7 per cent of the province’s land mass — land the Association for Mineral Exploration says is closed to mining. 

Back in December 2025, the Ministry of Water, Land and Resource Stewardship disagreed with that assessment. In the same statement where Minister Neill rebuffed the Association for Mineral Exploration, the ministry argued ungulate winter range didn’t meet the 30-by-30 conservation criteria.

“There are two types of ungulate winter ranges: no harvest and conditional harvest,” the statement read. The former “are subject to restrictions on forestry activities, but do not restrict mineral development and exploration activities.” A conditional harvest zone, meanwhile, may not have stringent enough restrictions on forestry to satisfy international conservation requirements, according to the statement.

In other words, ungulate winter range isn’t fully closed to development. It’s a conclusion the Association for Mineral Exploration shared in a 2016 report, describing it as land “where new mineral claims may be acquired and access for mineral exploration and development may be permitted.”

Coste points to other land designations that the Association for Mineral Exploration calls protected that don’t fit the 30-by-30 criteria. Among them are special management zones and wildlife management areas. Both restrict some, but not all, mining and logging. Like ungulate winter range, the Association for Mineral Exploration’s 2016 report said these areas could be open to mining. 

In special management zones, the report stated that “resource development and extraction opportunities exist.” While in wildlife management zones, “resource extraction like mining may be allowed.”

To Adrienne Berchtold, the director of mining reform and habitat protection at SkeenaWild Conservation Trust, it’s more evidence that the Association for Mineral Exploration’s policy paper is using faulty figures.

“We’ve done some early fact-checking and found that around 27 per cent of operating mines, proposed mines and exploration projects in the province are located in areas [the Association for Mineral Exploration] is telling the government should count as protected areas,” she says. “These numbers show that not only is mining activity possible in these areas, it is actively occurring in significant quantities.”

The problem with ‘other effective conservation measures’

For Coste, one of the most egregious land designations included in the Association for Mineral Exploration’s policy proposal are old growth management areas. According to a 2024 report from the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society B.C., less than one-third of old growth management areas are protected old-growth forests. Most of them, the report found, were young forests, and at least 27,300 hectares were active cutblocks. 

“They’re not protected areas,” Coste says. 

But the provincial government includes old growth management areas in the province’s 30-by-30 calculations.

Of the 20 per cent of land and water the province has logged in the Canadian Protected and Conserved Areas Database, 15.9 per cent is parks and protected areas. The other 4.1 per cent are listed under the heading of “other effective area-based conservation measures.”

A vague designation, other effective area-based conservation measures are not parks, conservation lands or other clearly defined, government-recognized protected areas. Their inclusion in 30-by-30 stems from the definition of protected areas developed by the International Union for the Conservation of Nature, an organization headquartered in Switzerland, which counts Canadian government and non-government entities among its members.

It defines a protected area as “a clearly defined geographical space, recognized, dedicated and managed, through legal or other effective means, to achieve the long-term conservation of nature with associated ecosystem services and cultural values.”

The “legal” side of this is straightforward: think provincial and federal conservation areas, ecological reserves and parks. “Other effective means” is where things get complicated. 

The province considers old growth management areas protected enough to include in their 30-by-30 calculations. The Association for Mineral Exploration agrees, adding ungulate winter range, special management zones, wildlife management areas and a few other designations they believe should also be included. 

But Coste disagrees, arguing that these designations “clearly don’t meet the International Union for the Conservation of Nature guidelines.” 

He describes the push to include them as government and extractive industries seeking “loopholes” to avoid real conservation. And yet, Coste said there are other means to meeting the 30-by-30 targets.

He points to Indigenous-led conservation areas as an example. These areas can fall into a legal grey zone, declared by nations but not recognized by the provincial or federal government. 

“If it’s Indigenous-declared, they’re probably going to need resources to do management plans and to get Guardians on the ground,” Coste says. “If it’s not a recognized protected area, that funding is not going to flow.”

He says that recognizing these areas as other effective area-based conservation measures could change that. It’s what happened, for example, in the Northwest Territories with Thaidene Nëné. 

An Indigenous protected area located on the northeastern arm of Great Slave Lake, it was designated by the Łutsël K’é Dene First Nation in 2019. Parts of the area were recognized by the territorial government as a territorial protected area and a wildlife conservation area. The rest was recognized by the federal government in 2025, forming the 26,000-square-kilometre Thaidene Nëné National Park Reserve. Earlier this year, the project received a major funding boost when the territorial government dispersed $21.6 million to support Indigenous-led conservation. 

Without these other pathways to establish protected areas, Matthew Mitchell, a professor and researcher at the University of British Columbia’s faculties of land and food systems and forestry and environmental stewardship, isn’t sure that B.C. or Canada can meet the 30-by-30 targets. 

“We can’t always do conservation the way we traditionally think about it,” he says.

In 2021, Mitchell served on an expert panel convened by Environment and Climate Change Canada to explore pathways to meet Canada’s conservation goals. Along with other researchers, he concluded meeting the 30-by-30 target would require innovative solutions. 

He advocates for approaches such as Indigenous protected areas, urban parks and biosphere reserves that include working landscapes.

“There are lots of good examples of working landscape conservation, agricultural areas where we’re adding in buffer strips and hedgerows,” he says. “Things that can actually have big benefits to a variety of wildlife and agricultural production.”

These are the kinds of other effective area-based conservation measures that he thinks are useful. But he also acknowledges there are pitfalls, and that opening the door to interpretations like the Association for Mineral Exploration’s isn’t helpful. 

“How you define these things and how effective they are actually really matters,” he says. “Putting them all into one bin and saying that we’ve hit our 30 per cent target is not a good way to go.”

A proposed Indigenous protected area in the crosshairs 

At roughly 40,000 square kilometres, the Dene Kʼéh Kusān Indigenous Protected and Conserved Area would be among the largest tracts of protected land in British Columbia. Located at the heart of the Kaska Dena nation’s traditional territory, it’s four times the size of Tweedsmuir Provincial Park, the largest park in the province.

“As Kaska, we’ve been stewards of our territory, so in our mind, it’s about thoughtful land use planning that will protect one of the most intact ecosystems in North America,” Michelle Miller, director of culture and land stewardship at the Dena Kayeh Institute, says.

When it’s recognized, she adds, the Kaska will be able to promote sustainable economic growth and protect land, water and critical habitat. It would also contribute to the province’s conservation goals. 

“Dene Kʼéh Kusān is four per cent of the province,” Miller explains. “Protecting it would go a long way to helping B.C. achieve its 30-by-30 goals.”

That has led projects like Dene Kʼéh Kusān to land in the Association for Mineral Exploration’s crosshairs. In their December 2025 policy proposal, the association called for a stop to “Northwest Land Use Plans, which are expected to add … significant new conservation areas to the province.” Conservation areas like Dene Kʼéh Kusān.

But Miller questions the association’s framing. 

“The idea of pitting conservation against economy, and against job creation, I think it’s an outdated argument,” she says. Dene Kʼéh Kusān is “not about opposing mining, it’s about where that can occur in other areas throughout the territory.” 

For Miller, that balance is at the heart of a “modern conservation economy” where “Indigenous stewardship, healthy ecosystems and economic opportunity can all move forward together.”

It’s a view she hopes won’t be lost if the government works with mining interests to change how they approach conservation and the 30-by-30 target. 

“The whole conversation around how you get to 30-by-30, I think we can recognize there’s some creative math going on there,” she says. “But we’re not here to debate that. We’re just here to say that Dene Kʼéh Kusān is worth protecting.”

The Narwhal’s reporters are telling environment stories you won’t read about anywhere else. Stay in the loop by signing up for our free weekly dose of independent journalism.

Summary

• A working group of First Nations and the Impact Assessment Agency of Canada released an interim report on the cumulative impacts of development in the Ring of Fire.
• Among the participants and collaborators in that report, the Government of Ontario was glaringly absent. The report says the province hasn’t shared valuable data on caribou, polar bears and other regional species that are needed to complete the assessment.
• Ontario NDP MPP Sol Mamakwa said, “By not providing any information or any data to the process, they are essentially muzzling the process itself.”

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Ontario has not been involved in the federal government’s regional assessment of the Ring of Fire, withholding scientific data and funding needed to understand the impact of mining development, even as the province ushers it through. 

The province is absent in the regional assessment working group’s interim report, released Feb. 23. In multiple instances, the group, made up of representatives from 15 First Nations and the Impact Assessment Agency of Canada, makes clear Ontario has yet to sign on. 

There is still an “opportunity for collaboration with the province of Ontario in the regional assessment,” the group wrote in the report. The group said it’s preparing what “specific information” it will need to request from the province.

Ontario’s absence is notable as the Doug Ford government continues to push through development in the Ring of Fire, an environmentally sensitive area of boreal forest and peatlands in the James Bay Lowlands, known as Bakitanaamowin Aki, which means “the Breathing Lands,” and Mammamattawa, or “many rivers coming together,” by the First Nations that call it home.

“If they really, really cared about [the assessment], they would work with the federal government,” Ontario NDP MPP Sol Mamakwa, who represents the Ring of Fire region, told The Narwhal. “By not providing any information or any data to the process, they are essentially muzzling the process itself.”

A spokesperson for the federal Impact Assessment Agency confirmed to The Narwhal that the working group understands “several areas it must assess are within provincial expertise.” It will “request information from Ontario as needed” in addition to consulting publicly available data, the spokesperson added.

The Ontario government is hoping the region will be the centre of new mining activity. During a press conference with Prime Minister Mark Carney in December, Premier Ford said Ontario is on track to get “shovels in the ground this June” to build a road to the remote region.

But the regional assessment has also been in the works for at least seven years. Aroland First Nation and environmental groups asked for a federal regional assessment in 2019.

The Ontario government has signed deals with three First Nations along the proposed roads to the Ring of Fire, even as other local communities urge the government to pause and properly address environmental protections and long-standing issues on the ground, such as boil-water advisories, health care and housing.

The interim regional assessment report reiterates some of these concerns, recommending the existing conditions for First Nations in northern Ontario be “thoroughly examined” and for “immediate interventions” to be made, even as mining and development are greenlit. 

“There are a lot of things happening in these First Nations and their territories that both Canada and Ontario need to address,” Mamakwa said. 

“Before the conversation turns to mining, conditions need to be properly assessed and improved.” 

The working group’s plan, updated in November, shows it has already built an information sharing platform, held technical sessions, developed community-led studies and begun to evaluate cumulative impacts of development in the Ring of Fire.

It’s now seeing through evaluations and studies and continuing to engage with communities to eventually compile a final report, which the group expects to land around June 2027. 

Whether or not Ontario will come to the table for the next phase is not yet clear.

“I think [the Ford government] is not happy with the federal assessment,” Mamakwa said. “The process itself, I think, they don’t want to be part of. And they just want to do their own thing.”

Ontario’s participation was ‘TBD’ — now it’s non-existent

Last January, when the working group finalized its terms of reference, it described an “outer ring” of contributors, such as experts and industry representatives and listed Ontario as one of these — but with “TBD,” or to be determined, attached to its name. 

The latest report suggests Ontario is not participating despite having a trove of scientific information readily available about the region. 

While 22 federal departments and agencies show up on a list of respondents to the working group’s public call for information and data, no provincial ministries are listed.

Even Wyloo Metals, the company behind the Eagle’s Nest mine, currently in the exploration phase in the Ring of Fire, contributed to technical sessions of the regional assessment, according to the report.

All of this is raising questions about whether the Ford government is preventing Ontario public servants from participating in the regional assessment. 

Without Ontario at the table for the regional assessment, “staff obviously won’t be given the mandate to participate,” Kerrie Blaise, the founder of the non-profit Legal Advocates for Nature’s Defence, told The Narwhal. 

“One hundred per cent, there would be staffers who would have knowledge and things to contribute. Without the direction to do so, they’re barred from doing so.”

In an interview at Queen’s Park on March 23, The Narwhal asked Ontario Environment Minister Todd McCarthy about the province’s lack of involvement in the regional assessment. He said he’d look into the matter.

McCarthy also told The Narwhal the province is “co-operating” with the federal government, citing a Dec. 18 agreement between the two levels to streamline the environmental assessment process. 

In that agreement, Ontario promised to lead any assessments for projects that are subject to both federal and provincial jurisdiction. But this deal covers single projects, whereas the Ring of Fire regional assessment isn’t examining a project, instead looking at cumulative effects of development in the region.

McCarthy said Ontario’s absence from the interim regional assessment report was “an exception.” 

“I suspect that Ontario is part of that conversation, and will be part of the conversation and will continue to co-operate and lead in terms of sharing data … to get all of it done,” he said.

“If the sense is that we’re not there at the moment, as I speak to you, we’re going to be there as we are all the time in terms of co-operating and leading.” 

The Narwhal sent specific questions to Ontario’s Ministry of Natural Resources, as well as the premier’s office, the Ministry of Environment, Conservation and Parks and the Ministry of Indigenous Affairs and First Nations Economic Reconciliation, about the government’s direction to public servants and financial willingness to support First Nation participation in the federal assessment. None responded to those emails by publication time.

Ontario is withholding scientific data on the Ring of Fire from the regional assessment

Within its interim report, the assessment group wrote that “several priorities for the regional assessment would benefit from provincial expertise.”

There are hints of what kind of expertise the group is hoping to get, in a submission by Environment and Climate Change Canada filed in January in response to one of the group’s requests for information.

In a question about Indigenous consent for non-Indigenous uses of land, the Environment Department pointed out that most traditional territories in Ontario are on non-federal lands, and the province is responsible for hunting and fishing regulations there.

The department also pointed out how the province has been monitoring boreal caribou and undertaking research to fill gaps in knowledge about the animal, and that the province holds valuable data such as aerial surveys on polar bears in the southern Hudson Bay subpopulation. 

Ontario also hosts the Natural Heritage Information Centre, which has historical data and continues to track biodiversity in the Ring of Fire region, the federal Environment Department noted, and directed questions about the centre to the provincial government.

“There are certain things the federal government cannot touch,” Blaise said. “So even if there’s a comment deadline, and people bring up concerns, if it’s not all within federal jurisdiction, you’re not going to have those players at the table to actually respond to those information gaps and requests.”

Without Ontario’s participation, the working group will be forced to go to the province to request information. That could result in more delays and extra costs, Blaise said.

When the Government of Alberta successfully challenged the constitutionality of the Impact Assessment Act at the Supreme Court of Canada, the judges emphasized in the 2023 ruling that “respect for the division of powers” between the federal and provincial governments helps put in place strong environmental protection laws and “facilitates co-operation between the two levels of government.”

Here, “we’re not getting that co-operation,” Blaise said. “So it means you’re inherently getting a narrower process, a process that doesn’t actually have all the requisite knowledge and expertise and government officials at the table.” 

Blaise also said Ontario’s lack of participation could translate to a lack of provincial support for whatever the working group ends up recommending.

First Nations need more funding to participate in the regional assessment from ‘other parties.’ Ontario did not respond to the call

The interim report highlights how many First Nations in the Ring of Fire area lack basic necessities, like clean water, health care, housing, education and electricity. First Nations can’t be “true partners in equitable decision-making processes” like the regional assessment, the group wrote, without these “necessities of life.” 

The report recommended that the existing conditions of First Nations in northern Ontario be “thoroughly examined” and that “immediate interventions” be made.

Community members also have to “constantly balance their roles,” the report stated, with responding to emergencies, dealing with other federal and provincial negotiations, staying involved in legal actions, responding to regulatory processes like permit applications and answering outside requests from industry.

All of this points to a need for more funding to help “address the participation gaps within the regional assessment process,” the group wrote.

While First Nations have worked with the Impact Assessment Agency of Canada on a funding strategy, and receive “base funding” to support their participation, the group said the amounts involved are “often largely insufficient.”

The Impact Assessment Agency of Canada’s departmental plan for 2026-27 shows it’s planning for $34,206,000 in cumulative spending cuts through 2029, but it’s unclear whether or how those cuts will impact its work on the Ring of Fire regional assessment.

The working group noted the effort involved in trying to apply to other federal funding programs, or nailing down private funds, is “prohibitive.” The group recommended that the federal government “and other parties” help the First Nations get enough funding so that they’re not burdened with trying to find the money themselves. 

“The provincial government cannot claim to move the Ring of Fire forward ethically or equitably while withholding information or funding for this process,” Mamakwa said.

The Narwhal’s reporters are telling environment stories you won’t read about anywhere else. Stay in the loop by signing up for our free weekly dose of independent journalism.