Canada’s new fast-track laws double down on false promise of ‘economic reconciliation’

A wave of legislation has rapidly reshaped how Canada approves major development projects. From Ottawa to Victoria to Queen’s Park, governments have passed laws in recent months that weaken environmental safeguards and centralize decision-making under the banner of “economic urgency.” 

One of the new laws on the book is federal: the One Canadian Economy Act, known as Bill C-5, promises to “expedite nation-building projects” deemed to be in the national interest by empowering cabinet to exempt projects from complying with certain laws.

The approval of this bill, which sailed through federal parliament in just three weeks, mirrors similar moves at the provincial level. 

In Ontario, Bill 5 creates “special economic zones” where projects can sidestep environmental assessments, species-at-risk protections, and heritage site rules. In B.C., Bills 14 and 15 grant the provincial government broad powers to bypass standard regulatory processes and accelerate infrastructure development in the name of the clean energy transition.

As this “fast-tracking” legislation unrolled, First Nations, environmental groups, opposition politicians, and even some business leaders warned that the new laws would sacrifice Indigenous rights and environmental safeguards in the interest of expediency. 

Canada’s leaders, on the other hand, presented the new legislation as urgent, necessary, and bold ideas to take action on an economy under siege by tariffs, global uncertainty, and cumbersome regulations. Prime Minister Mark Carney warned of a “national crisis” stemming from U.S. trade tariffs and used the threat of Donald Trump to rally support for the federal bill. Provincial leaders in Ontario and B.C. offered similar warnings. 

All of this adds up to a significant threat to Indigenous rights, environmental oversight, and public accountability. What’s more, these same governments are packaging these laws as part of a bigger promise: “economic reconciliation.” 

I have previously critiqued this buzzword as a false promise to Indigenous peoples. I’ve seen how this language is deployed to pressure Indigenous communities into accepting harmful projects under the guise of prosperity—dangling an offer of economic inclusion to lock communities into extractive, corporate projects they didn’t design, don’t control, and cannot easily refuse.

“Elbows up” reconciliation?

Bill C-5 frames its goals pretty explicitly in “economic reconciliation” terms, stating that the legislation will “unleash economic growth, with Indigenous partnership at the centre of this growth.” Prime Minister Carney, in a National Indigenous Peoples Day statement, listed “creating generational wealth and prosperity” for Indigenous communities as “central to our commitment to advancing reconciliation.”

In Ontario, Minister Greg Rickford, who oversees the recently renamed “Indigenous Affairs and First Nations Economic Reconciliation” portfolio,leaned heavily on similar rhetoric, saying, “I don’t talk about Indigenous issues. I will talk about Indigenous opportunities.” 

In other words, governments across the country are trying to suggest that uplifting Indigenous peoples depends on fossil fuel and mineral extraction. Beyond surface sentiments, we must ask: what is being left behind as the government’s vision of reconciliation narrows?

Canada’s UNDRIP Act, which enshrined the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples in 2021, and B.C.’s DRIPA, which did the same at the provincial level in 2019, were celebrated as landmark commitments to harmonise laws with Indigenous rights, most notably, the right to free, prior, and informed consent. Yet B.C.’s Bill 15 mentions DRIPA only once and offers no real accountability mechanisms to uphold consent. Bill 15 empowers the cabinet to override environmental reviews, the only formal process where First Nations can raise concerns about the risks projects pose to their land and waterways. 

Ontario’s Bill 5 and the federal Bill C-5 go even further, exempting so-called “strategic” projects from assessments altogether.

Though many so-called progressive leaders across jurisdictions have praised Indigenous climate leadership, those same leaders have now created runways for megaprojects that will blow past their own climate commitments and undermine their responsibility to advance constitutionally-protected Aboriginal rights and title.

Premier David Eby highlighted that B.C. needs to fast-track critical minerals to power the energy transition. Yet it is clear that the new laws won’t be used exclusively for “green” infrastructure. Soon after Bills 14 and 15 passed, the province’s Environmental Assessment Office ruled that the Prince Rupert Gas Transmission (PRGT) project, a long-delayed fracked gas pipeline, could proceed under a decade-old permit, despite construction now happening in a completely different environmental and political landscape. 

PRGT has faced opposition from many Indigenous peoples along the route, namely the Gitanyow Hereditary Chiefs. Yet it has support from the the Nisg̱a’a Lisims Government, who have partnered with Western LNG to build the project. The B.C. government’s approval of the project is not an oversight, but rather a deliberate political choice to celebrate Indigenous Nations who are willing to partner on megaprojects—and marginalize those who resist. 

In my previous critique of economic reconciliation, I likened Canada offering Indigenous Nations the chance to partner on projects that reap exuberant profits for corporations to handing us the cookie jar when there’s only crumbs left. But now, with the government pushing through a rash of pro-corporate legislation, the fossil-fuel industry appears to also be licking the mixing bowl.

Given Canada’s history of assimilationist policies toward Indigenous peoples, legislated commitments to free, prior, and informed consent are needed to rebalance power and restore a real nation-to-nation relationship. Laws like the UNDRIP Act and B.C.’s DRIPA represent important steps, but in practice, governments have dragged their heels on implementing consent protocols and upholding their responsibilities around land restitution, self-determination, and systemic redress. Full implementation of informed consent means shifting who holds real decision-making power.

The Liberal government has repeatedly stated that “free, prior, and informed consent is not a veto.” But why not? A veto wouldn’t block all development. It would, however, force governments to negotiate in good faith and respect Indigenous-defined interests. Instead, the government has cemented legislators’ near-absolute power, leaving Indigenous Nations unable to say “no” without facing lengthy legal battles or militarized police. 

A false dichotomy

Underlying all these recent developments is what I call a stifled economic imagination. By accepting “economic reconciliation” as reconciliation enough, governments and much of the public appear to embrace the belief that the only path to Indigenous flourishing is intensive development through existing economic models—the same ones built on Indigenous genocide and land theft.

This constrained vision frames any barriers to megaprojects—like complying with environmental rules or obtaining Indigenous consent—as hurdles that can be overcome through top-down legislation. The false choice between the economy and Indigenous rights reinforces the racist stereotype that Indigenous people are impediments to progress. It’s a narrative that further coerces Indigenous people into supporting projects that are not in their best interests, as many are acutely aware that raising concerns risks getting them painted as anti-progress or out of touch with their own people’s need for jobs.

This worn-out stereotype justifies a narrow, corporate-driven version of reconciliation. Instead of governments fulfilling their obligations to Indigenous people, we are left with simplistic corporate formulas of jobs and growth and told to get on board—or get out of the way. 

We must reject this false dichotomy and the misuse of “economic reconciliation.” It is possible to have economic prosperity while upholding Indigenous rights and strong environmental safeguards, if we design policies with that balance. This task will require creativity, patience, and genuine partnership. It requires us all to stop accepting cookie crumbs and an absence of economic imagination.

Because let’s be clear: Indigenous people aren’t the only ones being told lies about what we deserve. Political leaders are selling the same scarcity story to everyday Canadians. We are expected to shrink our expectations while corporations expand their profits. Over the past few months, politicians told us to get our “elbows up” and shop Canadian while the federal government cozied up to Trump and B.C. approved an American-backed megaproject.The same forces that are trampling the rights of Indigenous nations are increasing your cost of living, gutting workplace protections, and turning public goods into fodder for private profits. A government that won’t respect Indigenous consent won’t respect your union, your community’s needs, or our shared future.

Toward a new collective imagination

Right now, some are asking: “Well, then what’s the alternative?” That question isn’t a trap; it’s an invitation. In response, I ask: What if we figured it out together? What if we stopped thinking of reconciliation and climate action as fringe issues and instead saw them as part of our shared future? 

Indigenous Nations have long practised governance rooted in reciprocity and care for the land. Around the world, we see examples of democratic energy systems, community-owned renewables, and well-being economies that prioritize people and the planet. We have opportunities to create new public corporations and programs, like a Youth Climate Corps. These kinds of ideas are the products of a collective imagination and traditional reclamation that the government is trying to legislate away.

If there’s cause for optimism, it’s the unity and clarity with which Indigenous communities are responding to the fast-track legislation. Hayden King, executive director of the Yellowhead Institute, has drawn a parallel to more than a decade ago, when omnibus laws gutting environmental protections sparked the Idle No More movement. My hope is that the resistance today will grow into a full rejection of “economic reconciliation” and a refusal to settle for anything less than the implementation of Aboriginal rights and title. 

Canadians now face a choice. Either we demand better from our governments, insisting that they honour the treaties and the UN Declaration, and fight like hell for the fragile ecosystems we depend on. Or we accept this fast-tracked future where reconciliation and climate justice slip further out of reach. 

Janelle Lapointe is a climate justice and Indigenous rights organizer from Stellat’en First Nation. She is currently a guest on Sḵwx̱wú7mesh (Squamish), Səl̓ílwətaʔ/Selilwitulh (Tsleil-Waututh) and xʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam) territories.