When Opportunity Knocks, Canada No Longer Answers

From Roads to Resources to Policy Paralysis

Once upon a time, Canada was a country that saw the world’s crises as an opportunity to accelerate nation-building. When the winds of global change blew, Canadians summoned the collective will to build roads, pipelines, and infrastructure that not only served domestic needs but positioned the country as an indispensable partner on the global stage. Today, that spirit seems to have vanished—replaced by an air of hesitation, self-imposed paralysis, and an overwhelming inclination to say, “No.” As the world cries out for Canadian resources and ingenuity, our national reflex is no longer to build, but to dither, deflect, and decline.

Building the Nation in the Shadow of Global Crisis

Consider the 1950s, an era when Canada was forged anew in the crucible of Cold War anxieties. The spectre of Soviet threats hovering over the North helped rationalize the “Roads to Resources” program, a bold initiative to open up the vastness of the Canadian North. Roads were pushed through forests and muskeg not just for economic development, but to ensure that the nation’s arteries were robust enough to withstand, or at least respond to, world events. It would also open up access to Canada’s vast resources for economic development. The logic was simple and compelling: in times of global uncertainty, a stronger, more connected Canada was both a necessity and an opportunity.

The logic of national urgency was not limited to highways. The Korean War triggered support for several infrastructure decisions. The Trans Mountain pipeline, for instance, was born out of the desperate need to get Alberta oil to the Pacific to help in the war effort while steel was still being strictly rationed. The war ended just before the pipeline was operational. Similarly, the need to export Canadian natural gas to the United States—specifically to fuel a Montana metals mine for the Korean War effort—was accelerated by diplomatic and military exigencies. The Suez Crisis of 1956 made Canadian energy even more vital as a contributor to continental defence and a backstop for American production. The Westcoast Transmission Pipeline, a project to supply natural gas from Alberta and northeast British Columbia down to Vancouver and across the border into Washington state, faced a tangle of regulatory obstacles, but with persistent diplomatic bilateral negotiations and the determination of Frank McMahon, it advanced with rare speed because events abroad had made it abundantly clear: the world needed what Canada could supply.

Canada’s can-do spirit continued through the 1960s and 1970s. When the U.S. government long resisted the Interprovincial Pipeline’s Chicago Loop—concerned it would further increase American dependence on Canadian oil and undermine the quotas of the American oil import program—it took another geopolitical crisis to dissolve their resistance. The 1967 Arab-Israeli War made energy security so urgent that previously insurmountable objections vanished. Canadian oil began flowing through the new pipeline, a testament to how, when necessity called, the machinery of government and industry could move mountains.

Perhaps the most dramatic example came in the wake of the 1973 oil crisis. For almost two decades, the idea of building an oil pipeline from Alberta to Montreal languished in the realm of political impossibility. There were endless debates, regional wrangling, and economic uncertainties. But when OPEC’s embargo sent oil prices skyrocketing, suddenly the project was fast-tracked: approvals were granted, funding was secured, and the line was built with astonishing swiftness. Canada, once again, was a country that could get things done when the world demanded it.

The Shift to Paralysis: When Leadership Fails to Lead

Contrast these moments of decisive nation-building with the malaise of the present. In 2022, as Russia’s invasion of Ukraine upended global energy markets, Canada found itself in a familiar position: allied nations in Europe and Asia were desperate for new sources of oil and natural gas. Germany and Japan, in particular, came asking for Canadian help—LNG facilities, pipelines, and export terminals on the East Coast (and the West Coast) that could bypass Russian supply chains and blunt the weaponization of energy.

Instead of seizing the moment, Canada demurred. Prime Minister Justin Trudeau declared there was “no business case” for building LNG facilities on the Atlantic seaboard, arguing that it would take too long and that the war would be over before Canadian gas could reach Europe! He suggested, moreover, that such projects would undermine Canada’s climate ambitions. In one breath, he swept aside not only the urgent needs of Canada’s allies, but the very tradition of practical, rapid nation-building that once defined us.

It is a posture of defeatism, an admission that Canada is no longer nimble, confident, or capable of rising to the moment. Instead, we are weighed down by an ever-thickening bog of indecision—where every project is too complicated, too controversial, or too slow to matter. Where once there was an ethic of “how can we?” there is now a default to “why we should not.”

The New Culture of “No”

This new paralysis is the cumulative result of a culture shift, where the act of building is seen as inherently suspect and troubled. Some Indigenous communities, environmental groups, and urban activists dream of a pre-industrial nature preserve and demand a veto over projects that cross land or water. Leaders, wary of confrontation or bad press, pander to the “do nothing” constituency. In this milieu, the national interest is easily drowned out by a chorus of objections.

The irony is that, in declining to build, Canada not only fails itself, but its allies. While Germany and Japan scramble for energy security, Canada—blessed with abundant resources—shrugs and watches opportunities drift away, and allies suffer. The world is moving, and we are standing still.

Can We Find the Will to Build Again?

As the memory of Canada the builder fades, it is worth asking whether this defeatism is truly in our national character or merely a phase. History suggests that when the stakes were high, Canadians took advantage of global emergencies and rose to the challenge, often accomplishing the impossible. The lesson was not that obstacles are to be feared, but that they are opportunities for unity, vision, and purpose.

To reclaim that spirit, we must remember that nation-building is an act of will. It is a choice, not an inevitability. The world will keep moving, with or without us. The question is whether Canada will ever again choose to say “Yes, let’s get this done!”. Mark Carney’s nation building act, Bill C5 offers a big flat “maybe”. It remains to be seen if the “do nothing” crowd will once again win out in Canada.