I stood at the edge of the Pacific, watching fog roll across Lelu Island near Prince Rupert. Behind me, cedar and hemlock reached skyward; ahead, the coastal waters churned with life. This quiet stretch of British Columbia’s north coast sits at the center of what could become Canada’s most consequential climate decision in decades.
“My grandfather fished these waters for 60 years,” says Lax Kw’alaams hereditary chief Yahaan (Donald Wesley), scanning the horizon where liquefied natural gas (LNG) tankers would traverse if expansive terminal plans move forward. “They call this clean energy, but there’s nothing clean about what it will do to our way of life.”
The controversy surrounding British Columbia’s aggressive LNG expansion plans intensified last week when former Bank of Canada governor Mark Carney singled out the province’s LNG projects as the largest “carbon bombs” under consideration in Canada. Speaking at the Clean Economy Summit in Vancouver, Carney, who now leads the Glasgow Financial Alliance for Net Zero, warned that proceeding with all proposed LNG developments would make meeting Canada’s climate targets nearly impossible.
“We’re talking about emissions equivalent to adding 38 million cars to Canadian roads,” Carney stated. “These decisions deserve extraordinary scrutiny given what’s at stake.”
His comments came just days after Premier David Eby announced a renewed push to accelerate LNG development along B.C.’s coast, positioning the province as a “responsible supplier” to global markets. The centerpiece remains the massive LNG Canada facility under construction in Kitimat, with Phase 1 scheduled to begin operations in 2025 and a Phase 2 expansion already in planning stages.
When I visited the Kitimat construction site in April, the scale was breathtaking – thousands of workers, towering cranes, and infrastructure spreading across the equivalent of 400 football fields. The project, led by Shell with partners including PetroChina and Korea Gas, represents the largest private investment in Canadian history at over $40 billion.
“We’re building something that will reshape this region’s economy for generations,” explained Sara Jenkins, an LNG Canada community liaison officer, as we toured the site. “The jobs and opportunities here are transformational for many communities.”
But those economic benefits come with significant environmental consequences. According to the Pembina Institute, the LNG Canada facility alone will emit 3.5 million tonnes of carbon dioxide equivalent annually in its first phase, and planned expansions could more than double that figure. The provincial government has granted the facility substantial carbon tax exemptions worth hundreds of millions of dollars.
The disconnect between climate rhetoric and fossil fuel expansion hasn’t gone unnoticed by international climate observers. Climate Action Tracker, which monitors countries’ progress toward Paris Agreement goals, recently downgraded Canada’s climate efforts from “highly insufficient” to “critically insufficient,” citing continued fossil fuel infrastructure development as a key factor.
“You simply cannot claim climate leadership while actively expanding fossil fuel infrastructure that will operate for decades,” says Tzeporah Berman, international program director at Stand.earth. “B.C.’s LNG push is fundamentally incompatible with our climate commitments.”
The implications extend well beyond emissions. The Coastal GasLink pipeline, built to feed the LNG Canada facility, sparked years of conflict with Wet’suwet’en hereditary chiefs who never consented to its construction across their traditional territories. RCMP raids on Wet’suwet’en land defenders resulted in dozens of arrests and sparked nationwide solidarity protests in 2020 and 2022.
When I visited the Unist’ot’en healing center on Wet’suwet’en territory last year, the pipeline right-of-way cut a stark line through the forest just meters from where community members gather. Freda Huson, a Wet’suwet’en leader who has lived on the territory for over a decade, pointed to Wedzin Kwa (Morice River) flowing clear and cold nearby.
“This water is our lifeblood,” she told me. “We drink it unfiltered. Our salmon depend on it. What happens when that pipeline leaks?”
The provincial and federal governments both insist Canada can balance fossil fuel development with climate goals. Natural Resources Canada maintains that exporting LNG could help displace coal in Asian markets, though independent analyses from the Canadian Energy Research Institute suggest the climate benefits are marginal at best when accounting for methane leakage and lifecycle emissions.
The government’s emissions reduction plan relies heavily on a proposed cap on oil and gas emissions, but details remain vague, and implementation has been repeatedly delayed. Meanwhile, Environment and Climate Change Canada’s own projections show Canada is not on track to meet its 2030 climate targets, even without additional LNG development.
“We’re seeing a fundamental contradiction in policy,” says Kathryn Harrison, a political science professor at the University of British Columbia who specializes in environmental policy. “You cannot exponentially increase fossil fuel production while meaningfully reducing emissions. The math simply doesn’t work.”
The economic case for massive LNG expansion has also weakened. A recent report from the International Energy Agency projects global demand for natural gas will peak before 2030 as renewable energy becomes increasingly cost-competitive. Projects being built today risk becoming stranded assets as the world transitions away from fossil fuels.
Marc Lee, senior economist with the Canadian Centre for Policy Alternatives, questions the economic logic. “When you account for the massive public subsidies, tax breaks, and environmental costs, the economic benefits of these projects are far less impressive than proponents suggest,” he notes. “We’re essentially locking ourselves into a high-carbon development path just as the global market is shifting away.”
For coastal First Nations like the Gitxaała, concerns extend beyond emissions to the marine environment itself. Proposed shipping routes for LNG tankers would pass through sensitive ecosystems that support food fisheries that have sustained communities for thousands of years.
“The salmon, the herring, the eulachon – these aren’t just resources to us,” explains Gitxaała Elder Elizabeth Brown. “They’re our relatives, our way of life. No amount of promised jobs can replace what we stand to lose.”
As Canada approaches critical climate deadlines, the contradiction between ambitious emissions targets and expanded fossil fuel infrastructure becomes increasingly difficult to reconcile. The decisions made about British Columbia’s LNG future will reverberate for decades, shaping not just provincial emissions but Canada’s entire climate trajectory.
As I left Lelu Island, the fog had lifted, revealing the vastness of the coastal waters. A group of fishermen were heading out, their boats small against the immensity of the ocean. The question hanging in the air seemed as clear as the horizon: in our rush toward economic growth, what exactly are we willing to sacrifice?
