British Columbia now finds itself at a crossroads.
The province can either embrace a future powered by
resource-development, or lock itself out of massive economic
opportunity through ideological rigidity. Unfortunately, under
Premier David Eby, the NDP appears to be choosing the latter,
erecting significant barriers to pipeline projects and other resource
investments — even when they promise real economic gains, jobs, and
stability for the province. Their posture may sound noble in
rhetoric, but the costs of inaction are mounting, and economic
prudence demands a much sharper critique of their resistance.
At the heart of the problem is Eby’s insistence
on preserving the oil tanker ban on the province’s north coast, a
policy he defends as foundational to First Nations consent for other
resource investments. He argues that lifting the ban to accommodate a
proposed pipeline from Alberta would jeopardize some $60 billion in
capital investments in energy and mining by undermining that “social
licence.” On its face, that sounds like careful, even responsible
leadership — but the devil is in the assumptions and the
trade-offs.
First, Eby frames the Alberta pipeline as
“nonexistent,” because he claims there is no proponent, no route,
and no private investment. While he may be technically correct about
the specific proposal advanced by Alberta’s premier, his dismissal
overlooks a broader opportunity. By rejecting any pathway for oil
export that requires tanker traffic, Eby is effectively shutting the
door to even more ambitious regional energy corridors — ones that
could bring Canadian energy to global markets and generate meaningful
returns. He is treating this pipeline in isolation, rather than
considering its role in a larger strategy of trade, infrastructure,
and interprovincial cooperation. That is not prudence; it is economic
isolationism cloaked in virtue.
Second, his argument that maintaining the ban
protects First Nations support for other projects is deeply flawed.
Yes, social licence matters. But good-faith negotiation and economic
partnership do not necessarily require a blanket prohibition on
tanker access. By doubling down on the status quo, Eby risks freezing
First Nations into a rigid position rather than offering them the
chance to meaningfully participate in and benefit from resource
development. True reconciliation should empower Indigenous
communities to shape large infrastructure projects — not force them
into a binary where they must accept no oil traffic in exchange for
support of everything else. Eby’s strategy treats those communities
as passive actors whose consent depends on maintaining an ideological
red line, rather than as full partners.
In opposing a pipeline from Alberta, Eby
undermines Canada’s broader economic sovereignty. Countries around
the world want Canadian energy. By refusing to consider
infrastructure that would allow western Canadian oil to reach global
markets, BC risks becoming a bottleneck rather than a conduit. That
has real consequences for Canadian competitiveness. When you refuse
to capitalize on natural resource wealth, you forgo billions in GDP,
tax revenue, and investment. Eby’s posture isn’t just about
environmental risk; it’s a tacit admission that he is willing to
sacrifice long-term economic leverage for short-term political
optics.
Eby’s resistance amounts to fear-mongering. He
exaggerates the risks of tanker traffic and plays to political
audiences rather than addressing economic realities. If a pipeline
could be built with strong First Nations consent, financing,
environmental safeguards, and economic benefit, wouldn’t that
deserve serious consideration? By reflexively rejecting it, Eby seems
less interested in building a sustainable energy future and more in
defending a narrow political identity. That kind of approach stunts
economic growth.
Worse, Eby’s skepticism about pipelines isn’t
consistent with his support for other resource projects. Indeed, he
has championed the North Coast Transmission Line as one of his
government’s major nation-building efforts. The line, he says, is
“one of the biggest, most transformational opportunities in a
century.” But here is where the contradiction bites: why
green-light a multibillion-dollar transmission project to support
mines and LNG facilities while denying the province access to oil
export infrastructure? On what economic grounds does it make sense to
invest taxpayer money in power lines for resource companies but
refuse to entertain infrastructure that could deliver oil and gas to
world markets? The inconsistency suggests that Eby’s ideological
gatekeeping is not rooted in protecting the public — but in
controlling which projects get to move forward.
His threat to call a snap election if the NCTL
legislation is delayed illustrates just how politically motivated his
infrastructure agenda can be. That kind of brinkmanship might rally
his base, but it hardly inspires confidence from investors who prefer
stability and clear policy frameworks. When government power is
leveraged like that, the risk is not only economic instability but a
chilling effect on investment — companies may simply steer clear of
a province where infrastructure policy is wielded as a political
cudgel.
One must also question Eby’s claim that
environmental assessments and regulatory processes exist to prevent
“cutting corners”. In parliamentary debate, he has defended red
tape as essential trust-building with Indigenous communities and
ensuring environmental protection. But this overemphasizes process at
the expense of outcomes. Investors do not shy away from regulation
per se; they shy away from uncertainty and arbitrariness. When the
rules of the game are constantly shifting, and political red lines
prevent strategic infrastructure from being even considered, risk
becomes intolerable. The result is capital fleeing to more welcoming
jurisdictions.
Eby also frames the tanker ban as the keystone of
his resource-development model, but that creates a contradiction. If
he views tanker access as existentially dangerous, why is he
simultaneously promoting natural gas facilities and mining projects
that rely on that same corridor? He is effectively building an energy
future that depends on massive investment in power lines, mines, and
LNG — but will not permit oil export infrastructure that could
further diversify markets and leverage Canada's resource wealth more
fully. That selective “yes” for some resource sectors and “no”
for others is not coherent economic leadership; it's partiality.
From a fiscal standpoint, refusing to consider
pipelines is an expensive gamble. By closing off potential export
paths, BC treats its resource wealth like an unused library book that
no one bothers to read. That leaves money on the table. It means less
tax revenue, fewer royalties, lower employment, and less long-term
infrastructure payoff. It undermines the very argument for
nation-building that Eby claims to champion. The fact that he touts
one infrastructure megaproject (the transmission line) while
foreclosing others suggests a fundamental misalignment between his
stated economic ambition and his policy choices.
There is also a larger national dimension. If
British Columbia refuses to cooperate on pipelines — particularly
with Alberta, a province deeply tied to energy production — the
broader Canadian economy suffers. Interprovincial cooperation is not
just a political nicety; it is a foundation of economic strength. By
resisting meaningful dialogue and infrastructure development, Eby
weakens Canada’s ability to act as a unified energy exporter. That
loss ripples beyond provincial borders.
Admittedly, some of Eby’s concerns are not
without merit: environmental risk, First Nations consent, and climate
uncertainty are serious. But managing those risks should not mean
shutting down options entirely. Economic policy is about balance:
fostering growth while respecting values, not treating every pipeline
as a war. A government that truly prioritizes prosperity would
negotiate, incentivize, guarantee environmental safeguards, and bring
Indigenous communities to the table in a way that respects their
agency rather than substituting ban for dialogue.
Eby has offered contradictory signals about his
openness to privately financed pipelines. In some interviews, he
purports to support such projects — so long as they are genuinely
commercial and not politically manufactured. Yet in practice, his
government refuses to signal the kind of accommodation or willingness
to negotiate that could bring such a project into reality. That
half-heartedness discourages serious proponents from seriously
investing.
And let us not forget the alternative lies: do
nothing, and BC risks being left behind globally. With nations
pushing aggressively into critical minerals, hydrogen, and other
strategic resources, BC has a window to be a global powerhouse. But
pipeline access is part of that equation — enabling markets beyond
North America, diversifying export routes, attracting investment, and
building interprovincial infrastructure. By refusing to consider such
options, Eby’s government is choosing ideological comfort over
long-term competitiveness.
Additionally, Eby’s insistence on maintaining
the tanker ban may be more fragile than he claims. Reports suggest
that discussions between Ottawa and Alberta on bending the tanker ban
could be underway, which has caused consternation in his
administration. Suppose the federal government were to support some
form of carve-out — or a compromise with First Nations — Eby
would be forced to either back down or risk alienating his base. That
suggests his maximalist position may not be sustainable, yet he
continues to lean into it politically.
The critical point here is that Eby and the BC NDP
are playing an economic high-stakes game with a narrow hand. Rather
than treating resource development as a lever for long-term growth,
they treat certain forms of resource export — namely oil pipelines
— as unacceptable in principle. That inflexibility undermines their
broader infrastructure vision and badly underestimates the role that
resource export could play in generating jobs, regional development,
and fiscal capacity.
Governments should maximize the value of their
assets, promote private-sector investment, minimize politically
induced risk, and build infrastructure that catalyzes growth. Eby’s
approach fails in all three respects. He is not maximizing value; he
is sidelining a potentially powerful export path. He is increasing
political risk by closing off legitimate projects for ideological
reasons. And he is building infrastructure (like the NCTL) in a way
that feels selective and self-serving, rather than genuinely open.
By making the tanker ban a non-negotiable
condition, Eby signals to global investors that some forms of
development in BC are just off-limits. That hurts investor
confidence, particularly for firms wanting to make long-term bets on
Canadian energy. If foreign or domestic capitalists see that
political ideology, not market calculus, determines which projects
move forward, many will simply invest elsewhere.
It is also worth noting how Eby frames economic
growth. He often speaks of “nation-building” in terms of large
infrastructure projects, social reconciliation, and Indigenous
partnerships. That rhetoric appeals to a certain sensibility. But
nation-building isn’t merely ideological — it is practical. It
demands not only regulation and social buy-in, but also global
competitiveness. A government that rejects a pipeline for a province
with enormous resource potential is making a bet that others will
invest elsewhere, rather than here — that they’ll take the
capital and build their own corridors. That is a risky bet for BC and
for Canada.
In summary, Premier Eby and the BC NDP’s
opposition to pipelines and certain resource projects reflects a
short-sighted, politically motivated risk aversion. Rather than
engaging in meaningful compromise, leveraging private capital, and
building infrastructure that unlocks economic potential, they double
down on bans, political threats, and ideological red lines. The
result is not prudence, it's self-limitation.
If BC is serious about prosperity, it must
reconsider its reflexive opposition to pipelines. It must work with
other provinces, investors, and First Nations to craft deals that
balance environmental protection, indigenous rights, and economic
growth. The alternative — burying its resource wealth under
prohibitions — is not just economic stagnation, it is a decision to
let opportunity fade.
Eby’s legacy should not be about standing firm
against oil; his legacy should be about building a future where BC is
not only a green leader but a global energy and infrastructure hub.
But with his current path, he risks handing that future to other
provinces and other countries — leaving BC on the sidelines,
watching as others build. That is the real cost of his ideological
inflexibility.