I watched the sun rise over Vancouver harbor this morning, the light edging across the water as ferries slipped past. Feels fitting, somehow. Today I’m thinking about how history moves – sometimes in quiet ripples, sometimes in waves that reshape the shoreline entirely.
When word broke yesterday that the Thomson and Weston families had submitted an unopposed bid to reclaim the Hudson’s Bay Company charter, I found myself diving into the archives. These two Canadian business dynasties, with a combined wealth exceeding $80 billion according to Forbes’ latest estimates, are poised to acquire something beyond mere assets – they’re buying a piece of Canadian identity.
“This isn’t just a corporate transaction,” explained Dr. Amelia Ramirez, economic historian at the University of British Columbia. “The HBC charter represents one of the oldest continuous commercial enterprises in North America. It’s woven into the fabric of how Canada came to be.”
The charter, originally granted by King Charles II in 1670, gave the company trading rights to all lands whose waters drained into Hudson Bay – roughly 40 percent of modern Canada. While the retail operations of Hudson’s Bay have changed hands several times in recent decades, the charter itself had remained under Crown stewardship since 1869.
I spoke with James Clearwater yesterday, a member of the Swampy Cree First Nation in northern Manitoba, whose ancestors traded with HBC for generations. “Our communities have complicated feelings about this,” he told me. “The company shaped our histories, sometimes exploitatively, sometimes collaboratively. But at least with government oversight, there was some public accountability. What happens when it’s just private wealth?”
The question lingered with me as I walked through Gastown last evening, past the statue of “Gassy Jack” Deighton. Vancouver itself exists in part because of HBC trading posts that grew into settlements. Our landscapes carry these histories, visible or not.
What makes the Thomson-Weston bid particularly noteworthy is the unprecedented consolidation of Canadian heritage assets it represents. The Thomson family, through its Woodbridge holding company, already controls the Globe and Mail newspaper and holds majority interest in Thomson Reuters. The Westons control Loblaw Companies, Canada’s largest food retailer, and the Selfridges Group of luxury department stores.
“We’re seeing the continued concentration of both economic and cultural power,” noted Sheila Martinez from the Canadian Centre for Policy Alternatives. She pointed out that the families’ combined holdings now touch nearly every aspect of Canadian life – “from the news we read to the food we eat, and now to the very symbols and structures of our national story.”
The federal Competition Bureau confirmed this morning that they won’t challenge the bid, having determined that charter ownership doesn’t create anti-competitive conditions in any specific market. This despite concerns raised by several Indigenous organizations and heritage advocacy groups who petitioned for a more thorough public interest review.
When I visited York Factory in northern Manitoba last summer for a story on climate impacts to heritage sites, Elder Margaret Beardy showed me where HBC ships once landed. Standing on the shore of Hudson Bay, she gestured toward the restored company buildings. “These places hold memory,” she said. “When ownership changes, who becomes responsible for those memories?”
The Thomson and Weston families, through their joint statement, have promised to “honor the historical significance of the charter” and establish a heritage foundation with a $30 million endowment to preserve HBC records and artifacts. The statement specifically mentioned commitments to Indigenous reconciliation, though details remain vague.
Financial analysts from RBC Capital Markets suggest the acquisition represents more than historical sentimentality. “The charter includes certain residual land claims and water rights that could prove valuable in resource development contexts,” explained their investment note published this morning. The charter’s fine print potentially grants access to northern waterways and port development rights that could become increasingly strategic as Arctic shipping routes open due to climate change.
The transaction also arrives at a moment when Canadians are questioning their colonial past with renewed intensity. Monuments have been toppled, institutions renamed. The Hudson’s Bay Company stands as perhaps the ultimate symbol of colonial commercial enterprise – its point blankets, its forts, its role in the fur trade all subject to ongoing reassessment.
I called Dr. Thomas Berger, curator at the Museum of Anthropology, to ask what this acquisition means culturally. “It’s remarkable timing,” he observed. “Just as we’re collectively reexamining our relationships to these historical entities, ownership is shifting from public trust to private hands. Will that help or hinder the reconciliation process? That depends entirely on how the families choose to exercise their stewardship.”
The charter acquisition is expected to be finalized by February 2026, pending regulatory approvals. Sources close to the families indicate they plan to establish a joint governance structure for the charter separate from their other business interests.
As I walked home along Coal Harbour yesterday evening, I passed a Hudson’s Bay store, its windows gleaming with displays. The company’s operations have been separate from the charter for generations, yet the name still carries weight. I wondered how many shoppers inside knew they were standing in a space defined by one of history’s most consequential business agreements – or that this piece of our collective past was changing hands again, this time returning to private control.
Some transitions reshape the shoreline entirely. Some just change who gets to name the beach.
