Photo: Aerial view of Cold Lake, a large, deep lake on the Alberta–Saskatchewan border within Cold Lake First Nations territory / Photo submitted by Cold Lake First Nations.
By Sonal Gupta
Local Journalism Initiative Reporter
Canada’s National Observer
Alberta First Nations are being shut out of a sprawling carbon capture and storage project on their traditional territories that is a key part of a possible Alberta-Ottawa pipeline deal, chiefs say.
Kelsey Jacko, chief of Cold Lake First Nations, said his nation has raised concerns since 2023 but have not been included in key discussions between Ottawa, Alberta and industry.
And now, with the expected announcement of a memorandum of understanding between the federal and provincial governments, Jacko feels railroaded. “They’re pushing it through, ramming [it] down our throats, harder than they did before,” he said.
The proposed carbon capture and storage project involves a 400-kilometre-long CO2 pipeline transporting captured emissions from more than 20 oilsands facilities in northern Alberta to a storage hub near Cold Lake, on lands claimed by Cold Lake and other local First Nations.
Federal support for a new bitumen pipeline, expected to be announced by Prime Minister Mark Carney and Premier Danielle Smith in Calgary on Thursday, depends on Alberta strengthening its carbon pricing system and ensuring that industry invests heavily in carbon capture.
Jacko said Carney, both during his campaign and later in Ottawa, promised to visit Cold Lake before any decisions were made — a visit that still hasn’t happened.
“How can we trust this?” he said.
Safety and environmental concerns
Jacko said Cold Lake’s shoreline has changed dramatically and water levels are dropping. Industrial activity has long dictated how water is used, he said, leaving their people with unanswered questions that are often dismissed about safety and environmental impacts.
The project would pass through an already stressed region, raising concerns among Cold Lake communities about worsening water shortages, since carbon capture demands large amounts of water from the Lower Athabasca watershed.
“So much has already been done to our land… Everyone focuses on economics but the environment is being left behind,” Jacko said. “Species are at risk. Our lakes are drying. Our rivers aren’t flowing the way they used to. And they still push forward.”
They are also worried about potential leaks contaminating crucial groundwater supplies, similar to incidents reported elsewhere. One such incident occurred last year at the Archer-Daniels-Midland carbon capture plant in Decatur, Illinois, where thousands of tonnes of CO2 escaped underground. Heavier than air, CO2 can collect at low points before dispersing.
“There’s a lot of pockets where the CO2 could settle [in the Cold Lake region] and make it quite dangerous for first responders to get in there,” said Kim Warnke, policy analyst and internal services lead for Cold Lake First Nations.
While proponents of the project claim carbon capture is a proven technology, Jacko remains skeptical: the technology has never been deployed at this scale.
The nations’ primary concern is safety — they don’t know what materials will be used for the pipeline, who will monitor the system long‑term once it’s operational or whether risk‑management safeguards are even in place.
These concerns come amid broader challenges faced by Jacko’s community.Many members live in inadequate conditions, with some off-reserve struggling to secure basic necessities.
“My people are still living in poverty, many in third-world conditions. Some live in cardboard boxes. … The children suffer — there are more kids in care now than at the height of residential schools,” he said.
Jacko said they want to engage early with the government, especially given their experience with nation-building projects in the past. He pointed out a historical displacement by the Department of National Defence from Cold Lake Air Weapons Range, established in 1954 on what was traditionally their homeland. The federal government leased out the land without meaningful consultation, forcing the community to leave. The lease was repeatedly renewed, making their displacement permanent.
Indigenous engagement
Other Alberta chiefs opposing the project have also raised concerns over the lack of meaningful engagement. Herb Jackson, chief of Whitefish Lake First Nation, said the government still misunderstands treaty rights and the duty to consult.
“Society looks at it as if we’re always here with our hand out. That’s not true. We want clear dialogue from a government-to-government perspective. And yet we don’t get that. That’s disrespectful,” he said.
He said treaties, such as Treaty 6, were agreements to share resources, not surrender authority over land or water. The legislation and rapid project approvals often ignore those obligations.
“We agreed to share. We didn’t agree to be oppressed,” he said.
Vernon Watchmaker, chief of Kehewin Cree Nation, said the government has effectively “domesticated” the international standard for free, prior and informed consent, using it as a justification to push forward projects and legislation rather than collaborating with the nations as intended. Indigenous Peoples are often brought into discussions only after major decisions have already been made, with governments claiming they are “engaging us in some sense.”
“A true engagement would be us sitting at the table with them, hammering out what would truly benefit our nations,” Watchmaker said.
Instead, governments often offer economic participation through equity ownership in projects, but he sees that as primarily an attempt to compensate for longstanding gaps the communities have highlighted, he said.
Last year, eight First Nations in Alberta — including Beaver Lake Cree Nation, Cold Lake, Frog Lake, Heart Lake, Kehewin, Onion Lake and Whitefish Lake No. 128, formally requested that the $16.5-billion carbon capture and storage project proposed by the Pathways Alliance be subjected to a federal review under the Impact Assessment Act.
But Pathways has delayed the review, arguing it cannot yet provide the information needed for the Impact Assessment Agency of Canada to make a determination.
In a letter of support for the First Nations’ request, the Canadian Association of Physicians for the Environment said the province’s current review associated with the Pathways Alliance carbon capture and storage infrastructure fails to address safety and environmental concerns, and federal oversight is essential to protect people and nature in the long term.
Jacko said they have formed their own working group to examine the proposed project. The group includes members with experience in oil development, social inequities in participation and cumulative effects that they say infringe on their treaty rights and way of life. He hopes the government will support these efforts.
“Otherwise, we will never know the damage,” he said. “Everything starts with water. Water is life. And our people live off this land.”