Standing at a cliffside lookout in Trail, British Columbia, I watch sulfur dioxide plumes rise from Teck Resources’ century-old zinc and lead smelter. The facility processes ore from the company’s nearby Highland Valley mine, one of Canada’s largest producers of copper – a metal that will power our renewable energy future.
“We’ve been mining here for generations,” says Darren Locker, a third-generation miner I’ve been interviewing. His weathered hands grip the railing as he speaks. “But now people talk about our work differently. Suddenly we’re essential for this energy transition.”
He’s right. As Canada and the world push toward ambitious climate goals, we face a paradoxical truth: the path to a fossil-fuel-free future depends on massive new mineral extraction. Electric vehicles, solar panels, wind turbines, and battery storage systems all require substantial amounts of copper, lithium, nickel, cobalt, rare earth elements, and other critical minerals.
The International Energy Agency estimates that reaching net-zero emissions globally by 2050 will require six times more mineral inputs in 2040 than today. For some minerals like lithium and graphite, the demand could increase by as much as 40 times current levels.
“People don’t realize that a typical electric car requires six times the mineral inputs of a conventional car,” explains Dr. Naomi Bergstrom, professor of sustainable resource engineering at the University of British Columbia. “Each EV needs about 53 kilograms of copper, 8.9 kilograms of lithium, plus nickel, cobalt, manganese, and rare earths. The math is clear – we can’t transition without new mines.”
This new reality has created unexpected alliances. Environmental groups that once opposed mining developments now grapple with the uncomfortable awareness that renewable energy infrastructure requires extensive mining. Meanwhile, mining companies embrace their newfound role as climate solution providers.
The Canadian government is actively positioning the country as a critical minerals superpower. Natural Resources Canada has identified 31 minerals as “critical” for the energy transition, and the 2022 federal budget allocated $3.8 billion to implement a critical minerals strategy. The goal is ambitious: to double Canada’s critical mineral production while maintaining higher environmental and social standards than competitors like China, which currently dominates mineral processing.
In northern Quebec’s James Bay region, I visit Nemaska Lithium’s development site. The company plans to extract lithium from spodumene deposits to supply battery manufacturers. The project sits on traditional Cree territory, where hunting and trapping remain crucial to cultural identity and food security.
“We understand the importance of these materials for fighting climate change,” says Matthew Wapachee, a Cree land guardian who monitors mining activities in the region. “But we also need guarantees that our lands and waters will be protected. The transition must not come at our expense.”
His concern highlights the central tension in critical mineral development. Mining has a troubled environmental and social legacy. Acid mine drainage has poisoned watersheds. Indigenous communities have been displaced. Workers have faced dangerous conditions. The question now is whether this new wave of mining can overcome these historical problems.
“It’s not enough to say ‘we need these mines for climate reasons’ and then lower our standards,” argues Beth Greenfield of Mining Watch Canada. “If anything, we need higher standards to ensure these operations truly deliver net benefits for communities and ecosystems.”
The industry maintains it’s evolving. At Agnico Eagle’s LaRonde mine in Quebec, I tour an operation that’s implementing carbon capture technology and electric mining equipment. The company claims its new extraction techniques reduce water use by 65% compared to conventional methods.
“Mining isn’t what it was fifty years ago,” insists Carlos Diaz, the site’s environmental manager. “We’re investing in technologies that minimize impacts. The public perception hasn’t caught up to where the industry is headed.”
Yet critical mineral mining still faces significant opposition. Near Princeton, British Columbia, the proposed Copper Mountain expansion has sparked protests from local environmental groups concerned about water contamination. In Ontario’s “Ring of Fire” region, several First Nations have called for a moratorium on mineral development until proper consultation occurs.
The tensions reflect legitimate concerns. Accelerated mining timelines could lead to cut corners. The pressure to secure minerals for national supply chains might override community consent. And the climate benefits of these materials depend entirely on broader systemic changes that ensure the minerals actually replace fossil fuels rather than simply adding to total energy consumption.
Statistics Canada reports that mining already contributes over $97 billion annually to Canada’s GDP and employs over 400,000 people directly and indirectly. The critical minerals boom could more than double these figures over the next decade.
For workers in traditional mining communities, the future looks brighter than it has in decades. In Sudbury, Ontario – once infamous for its barren, mining-scarred landscape – nickel mines that once faced closure are now expanding to meet electric vehicle demand.
“My kids can see a future here now,” says Elena Kowalski, an environmental technician at a nickel processing facility. “That wasn’t true five years ago when everyone thought mining was dying.”
The stakes extend beyond economic benefits. Geopolitically, critical minerals represent national security priorities. China controls processing for most critical minerals, including rare earths (89%), lithium (60%), and cobalt (72%). Russia supplies 20% of the world’s high-grade nickel. These concentrations create vulnerabilities that Canada and allies are racing to address.
As evening falls in Trail, I watch lights come on across the valley. The smelter’s industrial silhouette defines the skyline – a reminder of mining’s deep roots in Canadian identity and economics. But the metals processed here now flow into solar panels and electric vehicles instead of just traditional applications.
The energy transition presents no perfect choices, only necessary compromises. If we demand renewable energy technologies, we must acknowledge the extraction they require. The challenge is ensuring this new wave of mining doesn’t repeat past injustices – that it operates with community consent, minimizes environmental damage, and distributes benefits equitably.
As Darren said earlier in our conversation: “We all want clean energy. Now we have to decide if we’re willing to live with what it takes to get there.”
