Tricia outlines a “modelling chain” of distinct but linked tools: climate models provide temperature and precipitation inputs, which feed land‑surface or hydrology models that estimate bulk water supply from rain and snow before human use. Groundwater and groundwater–surface water interactions are often modelled separately because of their complexity and long timescales, while hydraulic models simulate how water moves through rivers, enabling flood forecasting and floodplain mapping that influence insurance rates. At the end of the chain, water resource management models (“worms”) incorporate human interventions such as licences, irrigation withdrawals, reservoirs, and releases to estimate post‑use water supply. These models are usually run sequentially rather than fully coupled, with each step increasing in resolution to translate global climate signals into local hydrologic and hydraulic predictions.

The discussion then turns to specific processes and uncertainties, including glaciers, groundwater, and land‑use change. Tricia notes that the contribution of glacier melt to systems like the Bow and South Saskatchewan Rivers is complex and only recently being studied in detail, with earlier climate models underestimating glacier loss because they missed feedbacks such as wildfire ash darkening ice and accelerating melt. She explains that glaciers are crucial for headwater supply and that their melt feeds both rivers and groundwater, affecting late‑summer baseflows and water temperature, which are vital for aquatic ecosystems. Land‑use changes such as logging are incorporated by dynamically updating land‑cover data from satellite imagery so hydrology models can adjust runoff responses, while other cumulative effects (like fish health) are handled by separate ecological models that use hydrologic outputs such as flow and temperature. Throughout, Tricia stresses that model choice and complexity must be “fit for purpose,” balancing computational limits and the need for timely decisions, especially for operational tasks like flood forecasting.

A major theme is the shift from traditional “standards‑based” engineering (e.g., designing for a single “1‑in‑100‑year” event) toward adaptive, risk‑based management that embraces uncertainty envelopes and integrates environmental, economic, social, and cultural risk. Tricia argues that decision‑makers must choose where within a range of possible flows to design, based on their tolerance for being wrong and the consequences for communities and infrastructure, and that this inherently political and social process cannot be automated away by AI. She calls for a federal water policy framework that centers water in governance and economic planning, asking what the “resiliency threshold” of Canada’s water supply is rather than aiming merely for “sustainability,” given that basins like the South Saskatchewan are already oversubscribed and in deficit. This includes scrutinizing new industrial developments (from oil and gas to data centres) through a water‑availability lens and recognizing water as the limiting factor in many sectors.

The conversation also highlights serious data and governance gaps. Tricia explains that many social and local water uses are poorly captured: licences are modelled at their full legal volume because actual consumptive use is not monitored, return flows from irrigation are often unmeasured, and tributary and small‑stream uses can be invisible to models.

If your body were as sliced and diced as our water system is—how do you think you would fare?

Now consider, you are ~60% water.

Seems timely to revisit Bob Morrison and I’s interview from last September with Dr. Brad Stelfox (who also appeared in The Harms of Coal Mining), a zoologist and land-use scientist who has spent over 35 years developing cumulative effects models that integrate overlapping land uses—such as roads, agriculture, oil and gas, and forestry—to show how they reshape landscapes in Alberta and beyond. His work focuses on linking social, economic, and environmental dimensions, quantifying benefits like jobs and royalties alongside impacts on natural capital, including biodiversity, soil carbon, and water quality and quantity. Stelfox argues that most models used by industry and government chase “win‑win‑win” scenarios and fail to honestly represent trade‑offs, leading to a narrative that Alberta can expand all land uses without compromising water or biodiversity—something he says has never been achieved anywhere. He points to evidence of profound losses in natural capital since Alberta became a province, with rapid ongoing degradation of water, biodiversity, and soil carbon.

In other words, Alberta and Canada need to adopt a “Less i$ more” economic model: where more land (water, air, and biodiversity) is restored rather than developed.

Brad, Bob, and I discuss how Alberta’s growing population and sharply increased per‑capita resource use have driven extensive externalization of natural capital, meaning environmental costs are left out of economic and political decision‑making.He explains that humans and land use inevitably consume water, carbon, and biodiversity, and that Alberta is no longer just drawing on “interest” from these systems but is cutting deeply into the ecological “capital.” Using native mammals as an example, he estimates that pre‑European times they made up about 99.2% of biomass, whereas today Alberta has perhaps only 4% of its pre‑European native mammal biodiversity, with most biomass now in humans, livestock, and pets. Water quality and quantity have also deteriorated, with many prairie creeks ploughed over or converted to irrigation canals and parents reluctant to let children play in creeks due to health risks, especially in southern Alberta. He characterizes Alberta’s prevailing mindset as “me here now,” focused on short‑term economic growth and local interests rather than long‑term landscape health or the well‑being of future generations.

The discussion then zooms in on southern Alberta’s landscapes and water. Stelfox describes a west‑to‑east gradient where eastern lowlands have already lost most of their biodiversity and water quality, leaving little remaining natural capital to lose, while foothills and mountains—especially the eastern slopes—are now at greatest risk. These high‑elevation areas function as “water towers,” accumulating snow and releasing critical spring flows that support fish, wildlife, and all downstream land uses, including logging, agriculture, mining, oil and gas, transportation, and residential development. He estimates that Alberta receives roughly 700–800 billion cubic meters of precipitation annually, with about three‑quarters evaporating and 130–150 billion cubic meters flowing through rivers and aquifers, forming the basis of all land uses. Yet these headwaters are being incrementally eroded by expanding acreages, roads, recreation, cattle, and especially intensive logging, which alters hydrology, increases sediment, reduces soil organics, and undermines aquifer recharge. He argues that current forestry practices diverge from best management practices on paper and are not adequately enforced, and he questions why mining, off‑highway vehicles, and riparian residential development are allowed in such critical headwater zones.

Finally, the conversation turns to policy, economics, and the difficulty of change. Stelfox notes that the Alberta Land Stewardship Act was intended to sit above other legislation and force explicit trade‑off discussions about limits on water withdrawals, timber harvests, fossil fuel extraction, livestock numbers, and even population growth, but these ideas became politically unpalatable once industry and government realized they implied constraints on economic expansion. He observes that all major land‑use sectors—forestry, energy, agriculture, transportation, residential, recreation—have experienced exponential growth yet still see their current scale as “unacceptably too small,” planning for further expansion under a growth‑driven economic model that systematically depletes natural capital. I connect biodiversity loss to Indigenous community impacts and Species At Risk (such as caribou and trout), arguing that these are indicators of ecological and ultimately human risk, and I highlight how extensive piped‑water systems around Lethbridge and Edmonton show that society is already overdrawing its “water bank account.”

A Less i$ more economy is needed, where industrial sites and access ways no longer serving us are re-naturalized for ecosystem function at scale across so-called Alberta and Canada.

You need to help Brad, Bob, and me create the political will for the polluter to finally pay.

The discussion then turns to how climate change is disrupting traditional insurance models and data, with Markham citing industry reports that centuries of actuarial data are being undermined by frequent “once in a thousand year” extreme weather events. Derek confirms that climate change is increasing both the frequency and severity of events, forcing insurers to rework models and reconsider whether and how to continue offering certain coverages. He explains how insurers use loss ratios, expense ratios, and combined ratios to assess profitability, and how catastrophic years push combined ratios above 100%, meaning insurers lose money. Derek outlines different insurance needs, using farmers as an example: they require property coverage, sewer backup, crop hail insurance (sometimes including wildfire), and possibly groundwater coverage, illustrating how water-related risks intersect with agriculture.

Our conversation explores practical impacts on homeowners and commercial clients, including rising premiums and coverage limitations in high-risk areas such as floodplains along Calgary’s Elbow River and hail-prone regions like Medicine Hat and Red Deer. Derek notes that brokers have become more proactive in ensuring clients have sewer backup and at least some overland water coverage, even when full flood insurance is unavailable or unaffordable, while commercial property owners are increasingly attentive to severe weather risks, though not all explicitly link them to climate change. He explains reinsurance as “insurance for insurance companies,” provided by global reinsurers who are highly attuned to climate risk and can pressure domestic insurers to limit coverage in certain geographies, contributing to higher premiums and tighter terms. Markham and Derek discuss an emerging inflection point where rising premiums (e.g., a 50% increase after hail damage) and affordability crises may finally force consumers to connect climate change with personal financial risk, potentially prompting demands for “build back better” approaches and government involvement.

In the latter part of the conversation, we broaden the lens to systemic issues: government backstopping of major events like the 2013 floods, stalled efforts to create a national flood insurance program, and the growing complexity of wildfire and cyber risks. I raise mitigation strategies such as cloud seeding in Alberta’s “hail alley” between Calgary and Red Deer, and Derek explains the use of silver iodide to reduce hail size, while noting scalability limits and possible climate-change-driven storm intensity that outpaces response capacity. They then connect water, pollution, and energy: Markham and I highlight conflicts over water use between oil and gas, agriculture, and cities under worsening drought, and Derek warns about selenium pollution from coal mines in the Oldman River system, stressing that ongoing pollution is typically excluded from commercial insurance under absolute pollution exclusions, leaving taxpayers and communities exposed. I underscore that Alberta’s regulatory framework and reduced inspection capacity mean polluter-pay principles and remediation laws are not adequately enforced, while the province continues to allow the use and pollution of roughly four million barrels of fresh water per day for oil production, raising serious questions about doubling production amid severe drought and cumulative contamination.

Want more?

Listen to Bob Sandford explain the global water bankruptcy we are facing, his report for the UN came out in January 2026.

In response, we explores what should stop and what should replace current practices. We criticize expanding irrigation and building more dams in a context of declining natural flows and climate‑driven aridity, noting that empty reservoirs cannot solve drought and that engineering approaches cannot “outrun” climate change. We call for halting new coal mining in the Eastern Slopes, curbing excessive clear‑cutting, reforming forestry in both working forests and protected areas, and rethinking urban and industrial expansion into wildlife corridors and sensitive groundwater‑dependent ecosystems. I argue that all new fossil fuel development should cease, with industry redirected toward abandonment, decommissioning, and large‑scale restoration, including addressing hundreds of thousands of oil and gas sites and massive oil sands tailings ponds. We also highlight problematic technological “fixes,” from carbon capture and storage to atmospheric chemical injection by insurers, as examples of trying to control rather than work with nature, often creating new risks.

The conversation then turns to solutions and pathways forward, balancing individual and collective responsibility. On the personal side, Alex uses Calgary’s water‑main rupture to illustrate how simple behavioural changes—like skipping one toilet flush—can scale to millions of liters saved, while I contrast this with the vast volumes of water sent daily to oil sands tailings to show the importance of scale. Collectively, we stress the need for courageous land‑use planning that embeds cumulative‑effects science, ecological thresholds, and the value of water, space, and biodiversity, rather than entrenching status quo economic uses like timber, beef, and motorized recreation. We advocate for large‑scale, ecologically meaningful restoration—beyond “postage stamp” projects—across the eastern slopes and South Saskatchewan River basin, including removing roads, restoring beavers and wetlands, and supporting regenerative agriculture, while creating meaningful jobs for youth and reorienting environmental graduates toward repair rather than further development.

Finally, we discuss how to organize and build the political and cultural will to act. Kevin recounts how opposition to opening the Eastern Slopes to coal mining united ranchers, Indigenous communities, hunters, fishers, urban environmentalists, and people across the political spectrum, demonstrating the power of collective stewardship of common land. Building on this, he proposes a “macro” strategy of reclaiming the narrative from vested interests—e.g., resisting misframing climate‑driven fires as forest‑management failures—and a “micro” strategy of choosing one headwater sub‑drainage to fully restore as a proof of concept for water security, biodiversity, and landscape health. Lorne and Colin emphasize bioregional organizing, knitting together local leaders and existing groups in each major headwater watershed, engaging with tools like Alberta’s nature strategy survey and South Saskatchewan Regional Plan review while also building grassroots, basin‑scale voices that can steward public lands. The conversation closes with Kevin and Lorne underscoring that the eastern slopes are a gift from previous generations, part of Albertans’ “DNA,” and that honouring this legacy means not squandering it but embracing stewardship, recognizing that every land‑use choice is a water decision, and focusing one’s efforts where they can be most effective.

One outstanding question lingers: How far is too far?

According to the Government of Alberta.

Arlene traces the evolution from the Northwest Irrigation Act to Alberta’s Water Resources Act and then the Water Act, noting that groundwater was brought under Crown ownership and FITFIR in 1962, replacing the old rule of capture. The Water Act introduced major river basin divisions and approved water management plans—currently for the South Saskatchewan, Battle, and Milk River basins—which must be considered in key regulatory decisions like transfers. It also created statutory authorizations: household and agricultural exemptions with quantified annual volumes, and licences that grant diversion rights for specified purposes (municipal, irrigation, commercial, habitat enhancement, recreation, water conservation objectives, and others) typically on renewable 10‑year terms, while older licences have no expiry and are easily renewed. New licences can include water conservation objective (WCO) conditions that allow the director to restrict diversions when flows fall below set thresholds, whereas older licences may have in‑stream objectives (IOs) that are generally less protective. Arlene contrasts both WCOs and IOs with scientifically determined in‑stream flow needs (IFNs), arguing that WCOs and IOs are more politically set and often below IFN levels, limiting ecosystem protection.

Assessing the Water Act against an idealized water law, Arlene finds major shortcomings. She notes that while there are some tools to curb impacts for new licences, existing licences are strongly protected, there is no expropriation power for water rights, and cancellation is only possible when rights have gone unused for three years with no reasonable prospect of use. The Act offers only limited mechanisms to secure sufficient in‑stream flows, does not recognize or secure Indigenous water rights, and does not integrate quantity and quality regulation, conjunctive management of surface and groundwater, formal watershed governance, clear rules for alternative sources (wastewater, rainwater, stormwater, saline water), or climate change mitigation and adaptation—though the government is proposing amendments on some of these fronts. Household use has the highest priority, partially securing basic human needs. Overall, Arlene would grade the Act a “D” and says she would not pass it, arguing Alberta could have moved away from FITFIR toward more equitable systems like those in Saskatchewan, Australia, and New Zealand, but powerful sectors—oil and gas, municipalities, and agriculture—resisted change. In practice, Davin McIntosh—a water rights consultant and broker who specializes in facilitating water transfers in Alberta, with prior experience as a planning and municipal development lawyer and involvement in a significant proportion of water transfers in the Bow River Basin and Southern Alberta—points out that priority calls under FITFIR are rarely made, with Alberta preferring voluntary reductions to avoid cutting off junior users, especially municipalities whose licences are technically subject to FITFIR but whose drinking water cannot realistically be curtailed.

Davin then explains why and how water transfers were introduced. As recognition grew in the 1980s–1990s that full exercise of long‑standing rights could push rivers below environmentally sustainable levels, the Water Act added transfer provisions, and a 2007 moratorium on new licences in many areas made transfers the main mechanism for reallocating water. He describes an eight‑step process:

1. finding a suitable right (difficult because rights are rarely advertised and cancellation risk discourages signalling non‑use),

2. negotiating price and contracts despite uncertainty of approval,

3. confirming the licence is in good standing (including compliance checks and sometimes costly reconstruction of works to match old plans),

4. submitting a paper application,

5. responding to extensive and discretionary requests for information from the director,

6. publishing mandatory public notice and handling statements of concern, possible public meetings, and finally a decision. He highlights the director’s broad discretion and evolving, often unwritten policies—such as disallowing transfers “around a corner” in a Y‑shaped tributary, apportionment rules limiting how much can move from a mainstem to a tributary,

7. partial good‑standing determinations, and

8. the 10% conservation holdback that created government WCO licences but is now proposed to be scrapped due to limited overall transfer volumes.

With only about 400 transfers approved since 2007, roughly half being arm’s‑length, the conservation holdback has not significantly boosted in‑stream protection.

Throughout the discussion, we stress that enforcement of ecological needs and federal powers has been weak. Arlene notes that IFNs are not directly recognized in the Water Act, that WCOs and IOs fall short of IFNs, and that private in‑stream flow licences are not currently allowed, though government can and has issued WCO licences to itself.

More water lessons within the Water In Southern Alberta miniseries.

Sandford explains the UN “global water bankruptcy” concept as a post‑crisis state where societies persistently withdraw more water than renewable flows can support, depleting natural capital such as snowpack, glaciers, wetlands, and groundwater that provide “liquid income.” The report shows that even water‑rich countries like Canada, and regions such as southern Alberta, are not immune and may be nearing water bankruptcy, prompting initiatives like the Canada Water Agency. He argues that Alberta has failed to “repay” nature through forest, watershed, and biodiversity protection, and that maladaptive responses—creating weak watershed bodies, building more dams, drilling deeper wells, and diverting rivers—temporarily mask insecurity while deepening insolvency. Nature, he says, is now “initiating foreclosure” by shutting off water, as seen in glacier loss and shrinking snow and ice, and each drained wetland or logged headwater further erodes resilience beyond what engineering can replace.

Summary continues before this news update!

WOW: Did you see Hoekstra on Ryan Jespersen’s Real Talk?

With water bankruptcy—and the West Texas Intermediate system collapse on the horizon—can you believe what is coming out of Pete Hoekstra’s mouth?

Frequency of Contact with Alberta Premier:

Admits that he talks to Alberta Premier Danielle Smith “maybe once every three or four weeks” and speaks with her representatives in Ottawa “at least every week.”

Lack of Expertise on Canadian Perspectives:

States: “I’m not an expert on Canadian citizens or why they think the way that they do or what drives them and those kinds of things.” This is Pete’s job.

Acknowledgment of the “No Need for Canada” Position:

Confirms: “He says we don’t need Canada” — acknowledging that the president has made this statement on the record.

The Sales Approach:

Expects the Canadian provinces to “put on your sales hat” and actively pitch why buying from Canada is beneficial, rather than expecting automatic trade relationships.

SIGN THIS: Send Pete Packing!

Bob and Water Bankruptcy continued

Looking ahead, Sandford urges Alberta to formally acknowledge water bankruptcy risk and adopt transparent, fair rules for sharing scarcity, with participatory processes and strong social safety nets—conditions he says are absent under the current government. He links water security directly to food security and broader sustainable and circular economies, noting that water is often the only issue warring or divided groups can agree on, citing examples from the Middle East, the Northwest Territories, and transboundary agreements with Alberta. He highlights emerging climate science from James Hansen suggesting another El Niño and accelerated warming that could push global temperatures toward 2°C in the 2030s, with Canada warming at twice the global rate, implying severe drought, reduced snowpack, year‑round wildfire risk, and deep social and economic disruption in Alberta by 2027 and beyond. He likens the current moment to “Munich 1939,” arguing that Alberta is unprepared for three degrees of warming, with unpredictable precipitation, concurrent floods and droughts, and increasingly manipulated water licensing.

Politically, Sandford and other speakers connect water to a broader project of “rescuing, reviving, and restoring democracy” in Alberta, suggesting that the looming threat of water bankruptcy could galvanize citizens across issues like education, healthcare, and food security without relying on existing political parties.

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This conversation from August 2024 centers on Alberta’s escalating water crisis, framed by drought conditions, failing infrastructure, and inadequate government planning and oversight. I outline recent drought impacts, including four southern Alberta communities that had to have water trucked in, and highlights the auditor general’s findings: modelling is limited to parts of the province, most basins lack conservation objectives, there is weak monitoring of water pressure and risk triggers, and enforcement of water licenses and compliance is ineffective. Bruce stress that current models assume “water in equals water out” and ignore losses from heat and evapotranspiration, and that surface water analysis is largely missing, with monitoring focused on rivers and streams rather than the full hydrological picture. We also connect Alberta’s decisions to downstream regions, noting that Alberta is effectively “the taps” for Saskatchewan and Manitoba,—not the Mississippi basin (oops!)—so local choices have far-reaching consequences.

Against this backdrop, Bruce presents his proposal for an integrated water resource preservation and restoration agency that is public, independent, apolitical, interdisciplinary, intercultural, and accountable.

Bruce’s Water Agency Framework

1. Terms of Reference: coherent initiative of social planning with an interdisciplinary approach to managing water basin resources and their uses to identify and satisfy water resource stability and sustainability sufficient to secure ecological, social, and human subsistence indefinitely given resource conflicts, external disruptions, and climate change.

2. Scope of work: to include intake, withdrawal and loss of every drop of surface water, groundwater, aquifer, relative to watershed management including; flood control, tourism, hydropower, fisheries, water quality, navigation, sand and gravel extraction, and riverbank enhancement, erosion, relocation, etc.

3. Adequate data collection and information consistent with the scope and modeling requirements.

4. Scenario modeling and analysis including climate change, extreme weather, financial and institutional risk.

5. Government and public response, input, and real time communication and information.

6. Forecast modeling consistent with sustaining food, health, safety, ecosystem, and biomass sustainability.

7. Agency accountability that ensures system integrity and optimized investment decisions, allocation of capital resources, time horizons, and project implementation and operations.

8. Communication to inform public awareness. disaster readiness, and ensure contingency plans are available for rapid disaster response, food and water security, as well as communicate cost, liability, and inherent risk in real time, consistent with global weather fluctuations of hours, days, and weeks.

9. Government and industry funding, staffing, scheduling, and accountability.

His letter calls for a 10,000‑foot, river‑basin‑wide perspective that considers future water supply under climate change, glacier loss, and increasingly extreme and erratic weather, rather than just current allocations. He argues that no one is currently modelling entire basins or systematically integrating rainfall, aquifers, usage, and ecosystem needs across agriculture, urban, recreational, and wildlife uses. The proposed agency’s terms of reference include tracking intake, withdrawal, and loss of every drop of water from mountain precipitation through snow and ice fields to river flows, recognizing that only about 25% of falling moisture becomes usable river water. It would use complex systems modelling and advances in mathematics and AI to run scenario analyses, identify failure points, and guide long‑term, province‑wide planning, funded on a multi‑decade horizon rather than political cycles.

The discussion then broadens into practical implications, governance gaps, and examples of both failure and opportunity. We describe failing and aging infrastructure, such as Calgary’s major water pipe installed 49 years ago and similar vulnerabilities in other systems, noting that promises of “hundred‑year” assets outlast the people responsible and erode accountability. We criticize fragmented watershed councils that can only advise, not veto projects like proposed Bow River dams, and point out that infrastructure‑heavy solutions are being pursued despite scientific skepticism and uncertainty about future water availability. We highlight how development, oil and gas, and gravel extraction are expanding water use in sensitive areas even as shortages loom, and how sampling is mis‑targeted—focused on rivers rather than wells where contamination and drying are actually being observed by landowners. Bruce’s experience with government responses underscores a pattern of political “feel‑good” letters that claim things are under control without engaging the urgency or substance of his proposals, reinforcing the need for public pressure and stakeholder‑driven change.

Finally, we emphasize accountability, equity, and systemic thinking about water, food, and land use. Bruce insists that all humans need water and should be treated equitably, and that agriculture, urban use, and industry must be reconsidered to reduce waste, including shifting to local food systems such as rooftop or vertical farming to cut transport and water use. Alex cites Dutch vertical gardening and local greenhouse operations as proof that low‑water, local production is feasible and could reduce emissions and pesticide use. We argue that small changes—like replacing imported strawberries with local production—can significantly alter complex models because everything is interrelated, and warn that once we alter systems (e.g., dams, clear‑cuts, urban heat islands), there is “no going back,” so interventions must be carefully evaluated for ecosystem impacts on flora, fauna, and even jet streams.

Next Up, I’ll jump ahead reshare Bob Sandford’s outlining of risks of Global Water Bankruptcy. Stay tuned!

Help me get to 500 subscribers on YouTube and 1000 here on Substack! Like and share this video.

Shannon then situates the famous “Dust Bowl” drought of the 1930s in a longer climate and economic context, explaining that settlers arrived during an unusually wet 15‑year period and mistook those conditions for normal, whereas tree‑ring records show that multi‑year droughts are part of the Prairie West’s long‑term climate. The 1930s crisis was intensified by three factors: lower‑than‑expected precipitation, collapsing wheat prices during the global depression, and accumulating damage from unsustainable agricultural practices such as black summer fallow, which degraded soils. We connect this to colonial policy, noting how agricultural colonization and the creation of Alberta and Saskatchewan in 1905 were intertwined with the Department of Indian Affairs under Duncan Campbell Scott, reserve segregation, and legal mechanisms that dispossessed Indigenous peoples and blocked their emerging agricultural success, such as among the Blackfoot in the late 1920s and early 1930s. Shannon elaborates that agricultural settlement was “tightly coupled” with Indigenous dispossession, genocidal policies, and measures like the Peasant Farming policy that forced Indigenous farmers to use outdated technology while neighbouring settlers used modern machinery, all within a broader “clearing the plains” project described by James Daschuk.

Our discussion turns to the Prairie Farm Rehabilitation Administration (PFRA), created in 1935 as part of Canada’s “New Deal” response to the 1930s emergency, and operating until its elimination in 2009 under Stephen Harper’s government in what some have called a “war on science.” Shannon describes PFRA’s early soil‑conservation strategy of strip farming—alternating cropped and fallowed strips to anchor topsoil—which produced unintended consequences by creating more field edges that favoured wheat stem sawflies, leading to severe pest outbreaks that caused some farmers to abandon strip farming despite ongoing soil loss. PFRA’s small‑scale water development projects, such as dugouts and stock‑watering ponds, are presented as relatively successful in providing reliable water for households, gardens, and livestock without large‑scale irrigation, whereas later large irrigation schemes were more complex. Shannon also recounts PFRA’s role in international development in northern Ghana, where Canadian expertise was exported to build water infrastructure; the project had mixed technical success but led to serious unintended health impacts due to increased water‑related diseases carried by snails and mosquitoes—risks that had not been present in the Canadian prairies—highlighting the dangers of transplanting models without local ecological and cultural knowledge.

From there, the conversation broadens to contemporary farming, irrigation, and governance. Bruce notes that many prairie farmers historically arrived with little climate knowledge, took decades to learn the land, and now face soil deterioration and micronutrient loss after a century of farming, while cultural mismatches—whether Europeans in Canada or Canadians in Africa—underscore the importance of local knowledge. Shannon explains that farms have grown larger since the 1930s, making intimate, soil‑attentive management harder, and that the elimination of PFRA and other public agricultural science capacity under neoliberal “small government” has left farmers more dependent on corporations like Monsanto, whose mandate is profit rather than public interest, thereby increasing farmer vulnerability. She traces Alberta’s irrigation history from small individual schemes to corporate and cooperative models, and then to a 1930s shift that framed irrigation as a public good to justify state investment in large infrastructure, with later efficiency gains in the 1960s–70s; nonetheless, she stresses that “you can’t build your way out” of most problems and that more infrastructure alone often creates new issues. We contrast proposals for more dams, irrigation, and even north‑south water transfers—raising concerns about species transfer and failing infrastructure like the Oldman Dam and St. Mary Reservoir—with their preference for restoring headwater forests, removing roads and industrial sites, and enhancing natural storage and habitat.

In the final part of the conversation, we explore potential paths forward. Alex advocates for wetland restoration as a low‑cost way to filter water, maintain movement to reduce sulphates and phosphates, and increase biodiversity, citing artificial wetland basins in his own community that effectively filter hill runoff before it reaches treatment plants. He and others draw parallels between past and present “New Deals,” migrant promises, and cycles of empire, industrialization, and monocropping, arguing that large machinery and annual GMO seed systems from companies like Bayer have disconnected farmers from their land and trapped them in unsustainable models, while small‑scale, greenhouse‑based local food production offers more intimate, resilient alternatives.

Check Out More from Shannon and Bruce in the Water in Southern Alberta podcast mini-series.

The conversation begins with me situating the dialogue in the context of watershed protection and headwaters stewardship in Southern Alberta, describing how a local council brought together Indigenous representatives, residents, experts, and council members to ensure landowners lead decisions about their river system. I explain that despite 20 years of local work to care for the river, the broader headwaters remain vulnerable, emphasizing that logging, coal mining, and road building damage water sources and calling for restoration of the eastern slopes as protected “taps” for regional water.

Harley introduces himself through his Blackfoot identity, explaining that he comes from the Ani people and sees himself as part of a lineage stretching back perhaps 10,000 generations, with a way of life “etched” into his being. He describes being taught that humans are not above other creation, that everything—including plants, animals, air, and even beings beyond Earth—has a spirit, and that Blackfoot teachings acknowledge “star people” or star beings who have visited Earth. Alongside this traditional upbringing, he recounts his “Canadian” education, brief work in oil and gas that he left because of its destructive impacts, and his subsequent decades in environmental consulting, where he deliberately avoided government employment and instead built private-sector initiatives like Harmony Walkers and Buffalo Rock Tipi Camp to blend Indigenous and Western science. He also serves on Alberta’s Indigenous Wisdom Advisory Panel but criticizes its focus on making oil sands appear acceptable, calling this misaligned with his values.

As the discussion deepens, Harley contrasts Indigenous land-based learning with Western education, arguing that many scientists and professionals learn about land from computers and brief field visits rather than living on the land, which he sees as “missing the whole boat.” He recounts a vision quest that led him to “save the land” as a way of saving his culture and all those generations, and he critiques how perspectives are shaped by greed, arrogance, and narrow upbringing. He is sharply critical of Western schooling and religion, calling education “one of the roots of all evil” when it transmits lies, such as teaching that Columbus “discovered” a land already inhabited, or presenting sanitized histories that erase Indigenous presence and contributions. He denounces churches as often functioning like financial institutions and “torture chambers,” rejects mythologized religious narratives, and insists that children are being failed when they are not taught the truth about history, land, and humanity’s dependence on the rest of creation.

Harley then links these critiques directly to environmental crisis and intergenerational responsibility, stressing that trees, animals, air, and water do not need humans, but humans absolutely need them. He condemns short-term, self-centered thinking focused on personal wealth, three-year returns, and material legacies while ignoring breathable air, clean water, and the broader web of life, arguing that most people are “me and ours” oriented and unwilling to look 100–200 years ahead. He describes “giving back” as a total life commitment—every day his “boots hit the floor” he is working for Mother Earth and all his relatives, not just human descendants, and he criticizes performative or minimal efforts, unpaid though his own work often is. Using stories from his childhood berry-picking in the mountains, he illustrates teachings about leaving enough for other beings, staying quiet to respect mountain spirits, and the warning that if those spirits leave, the mountains and all dependent life will suffer—contrasting this with today’s “three ring circus” of industrial activity and recreation in the headwaters that threatens to dry rivers and spark future “water wars.”

In closing, Harley asserts that Mother Earth will survive and reorganize without humans, as she has before, and warns that if humanity continues on its current path, nature will eventually “flush the toilet of man,” a force no wealth, science, or military can stop. He expresses that he personally has no hope under present conditions but invites others to prove him wrong by changing, emphasizing that the first step is truth—especially in education—through revising curricula to correct myths about figures like Columbus and Cortez and acknowledging that colonial powers had no legitimate right to claim Indigenous lands.

Follow and Support: Harley’s legacy lives on in his son, Trevor Bastien

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A major portion of this discussion unpacks the “nine planetary boundaries” popularized by Joe Brewer’s work on regenerating Cascadia, which I frame as “laws of the land” as literal earth system limits and a way to define the polycrisis humanity faces. Colin walks through boundaries including climate change, biosphere integrity, land‑system change, freshwater change, biogeochemical flows (nitrogen and phosphorus), ocean acidification, atmospheric aerosol loading, stratospheric ozone depletion, and novel entities like microplastics and PFAS chemicals, emphasizing that most thresholds have already been crossed and that nitrogen/phosphorus flows are “most off the chart.” Colin adds detailed examples such as Lake Winnipeg’s blue‑green algae and microcystin issues linked to phosphates and dams, and notes Geological Survey of Canada findings that such formations are associated with several major past extinctions, while Colin and Alex highlight the ubiquity of microplastics and PFAS, including tire‑derived microplastics reaching even remote mountain lakes. They stress that these interacting boundaries create feedbacks—such as aerosols temporarily masking warming—and that recent removal of Sulphur from marine fuels may have accelerated atmospheric warming, illustrating how different boundaries can counteract or amplify each other.

In response to this crisis, our conversation shifts to bioregions and ecological‑based economies, drawing on Indigenous territorial perspectives and watershed‑based governance. Colin explains bioregions as nested, fractal landscape units defined by watersheds, flora, fauna, and climate, using Southern Alberta’s Bow River Basin and its tributaries (Ghost, Jumping Pound, Elbow, Highwood, Sheep, Oldman) as examples, and contrasts this with nation‑state borders and modern capitalism’s pull toward resource extraction and urban concentration. Alex and Colin discuss territorial self‑governance and local food systems, citing Redcliff, Alberta’s large greenhouse complex as a model for year‑round vegetable production that reduces transport emissions, and proposing co‑locating greenhouses with existing gas wells to use natural gas and captured carbon for food production. Colin and I then highlight social design principles from Joe Brewer’s work: defining shared identity and purpose, equitable allocation of contributions and benefits, fair and inclusive decision‑making, fast conflict resolution, and “stability projects” as a starting point before deeper regeneration, all aimed at moving from a wasteful, ever‑growth economy toward collective, outcomes‑based systems.

Throughout, we grapple with the emotional and political dimensions of ecological collapse. Colin argues that recent spikes in wildfires, floods, drought, and other anomalies suggest we are “outside of the realm of survivability” for current lifestyles, and criticizes short‑term political thinking and promises of unlimited growth, calling instead for grassroots, mycelium‑like community organizing, unexpected alliances across political divides, and a redefinition of wealth away from material growth toward regeneration of natural abundance. He and I emphasize the need to face grief and fear together, avoid tribalism, and use nature itself—through initiatives like Land Lovers and Compost Club—as a healing, community‑building context that mirrors the diversity and interdependence of healthy ecosystems. The episode closes with me reiterating that the crisis is not just “climate change” but a nine‑facet planetary problem driven by a wasteful growth economy, and expressing hope that conversations like this, and potential collaboration with Joe Brewer, can help “pull the tapestry together” among many people already doing ecological work in Alberta and beyond.

For more information on Joe Brewer’s work, check out this YouTube playlist on bioregional organizing I made:

Bioregional Organizing Videos

Dr. Joe Vipond from the Calgary Climate Hub describes their charity’s role in empowering Calgarians to participate in climate solutions, including through an electricity working group that became interested in European “balcony solar” as a way for renters, condo owners, and people without suitable roofs to join the energy transition. He notes that plug‑in solar can offset about a third of a household’s electricity use, which is significant in the current context of energy costs. I mention that jurisdictions like England are pushing such legislation in response to energy shortages linked to the war in Iran, framing this as a timely discussion. Joe and the host also highlight that current microgeneration regulations were written for larger rooftop systems, not small 800–1200 W plug‑in units, so the law simply hasn’t caught up yet.

Chris outlines the complex stakeholder landscape—safety and compliance bodies, utilities, authorities having jurisdiction, municipalities, and even fire departments—and explains that Volta Home began by working with Underwriters Laboratories and engaging CSA to create and harmonize UL 3700 across North America so manufacturers can build to a single standard and reduce costs. He describes how they then engaged their local utility to validate grid export and compensation for homeowners, noting that in Europe millions of such systems have been deployed, adding near utility-scale capacity in a short time and offering utilities a potential advantage if they support rather than block the technology. Looking ahead, Chris expects a UL 3700 technical committee to form around late fall to early winter, with a possible official standard by mid‑next year, after which “nano generation” policies—similar to Germany’s simple online registration for sub‑600/800 W systems—would be needed to unlock widespread adoption.

Joe explains that while anyone can technically assemble a panel and microinverter and plug it in today, doing so is illegal because current legislation requires an interconnection permit and a licensed electrician, making small systems uneconomical: systems might cost $800–$1,600, but the interconnection permit in Alberta is at least $4,000 plus roughly $1,000 in electrician costs. The Calgary Climate Hub is therefore pushing legislative changes to remove the interconnection requirement for these small systems, mandate compliance with standards like UL 3700, establish a “right to install” despite landlords or condo boards, and provide liability releases for utilities and other entities. Joe cites Europe’s more than four million installed systems and the absence of solar-related safety incidents (with only one fire tied to a battery system, which is not what they’re currently discussing) as evidence of safety. He calls plug‑in solar a “no‑brainer” for homeowners, utilities, and governments, and urges citizens to support the campaign via pluginsolarpower.ca by sending letters and signing petitions, while Chris recommends using that site as a central “single source of truth” and notes that federal policy, modeled on Germany or the UK, is needed to align standards, legislation, and market adoption across Canada.

WRITE YOUR MP HERE!

Join the Calgary Climate Hub MONDAY, June 29 at the Sunalta Community Hall from 6-8:30 pm.

Clean Energy Future Talk Sign Up!

Please note: I am taking a break over the summer and will be running water conversation reruns from the past 3 season.

Reach out should you wish to discuss something urgent!

Pledge "Together-NO!" Here!

Public Interest Alberta is a nonpartisan, nonprofit, grassroots advocacy organization with about a thousand volunteers across the province, supported by unions such as Health Sciences and UNA, focused on public services and democracy and refusing government funding. They see themselves as a suitable vehicle to coordinate a large, four‑month, province‑wide campaign involving hundreds of volunteers and many partner organizations, including existing networks like Forever Canadian, Water Not Coal, Recall Nicoladies, and groups such as Alberta Voice and the Calgary Alliance for the Common Good, as well as faith communities and newcomer‑serving agencies. The campaign is explicitly framed as a “David and Goliath” effort against a well‑funded government communications push, with the speakers emphasizing the need for people‑powered organizing, financial donations, and broad civil‑society collaboration to send a clear message that “Alberta’s better than this referendum.”

A major component of the strategy is a robust, data‑driven approach: Together—NO! is working with an experienced Canadian polling firm to test assumptions, measure baseline attitudes, evaluate which messages are most and least effective, and see how government framing holds up when contrasted with fact‑ and values‑based counter‑arguments. We highlight how prior polling on issues like the polluter‑pay principle showed high support “when prompted,” revealing that awareness, not agreement, was the main gap—an insight we want to replicate here to tailor outreach, raise awareness of misleading question framing, and continually refine messaging through both polling and feedback from real conversations on the ground. This research will guide whether the campaign will address the referendum as a whole or focus on specific questions, and help them “meet people where they’re at” while keeping the core goal of securing “no” votes on the agenda.

Operationally, the campaign is built around a mix of digital infrastructure, regional organizing, and direct outreach. The website albertareferendum2026.org hosts a pledge form where people can commit to voting, volunteering, or donating, and serves as the central hub for staying in touch. We are developing regional campaigns in Calgary, Edmonton, Lethbridge, and likely other cities such as Grande Prairie and Fort McMurray, with plans for extensive canvassing, event tabling, literature drops for those uncomfortable with door‑knocking, and a “road show” in August and September across about 15 locations featuring campaign launches and town halls. Training is structured in two main tracks: “train‑the‑trainer” programs to build local leadership capable of running canvassing operations and regional campaigns, and canvassing workshops (including deep canvassing techniques) to prepare volunteers for hard conversations, equip them with facts about immigrants’ contributions and taxation, and build confidence for door‑to‑door engagement.

Throughout, Brad and I stress values of fairness, neighbourliness, and solidarity, arguing that most Albertans do not want to “punish” newcomers who work, pay taxes, and support communities, and that the government is trying to manufacture scapegoats and a “firewall” narrative that doesn’t reflect real Alberta values. We frame the campaign as an opportunity to build long‑term organizing capacity, empower local leaders, and create space for constructive, respectful conversations that both “agitate” their base and help people reach their own understanding, with the ultimate aim of emerging from the referendum with stronger democratic engagement and renewed focus on strengthening public services rather than pursuing divisive, racially charged constitutional experiments.

Join Us Here!

Take Action Saturday, June 27 from 11-4 pm.

A rally for Unity from 11 am to 1:45 pm at the McDougall Centre, then an Anti-AI Rally from 2-4 pm!

I am taking a hiatus from the podcast over the summer, I will be rerunning the conversations focused on water to highlight the people doing this work. Should something come up which needs to be discussed, in your opinion, please let me know.

I am speaking at both events tomorrow, I hope to see you there!

White outlines the “Water for Life” strategy’s three pillars:

1. safe, secure drinking water,

2. healthy aquatic ecosystems, and

3. reliable water supplies for a sustainable economy.

In its early years, the Council quickly tackled drinking water by reviewing 525 major facilities to ensure licensed operators and compliance. Subsequent work focused on water supply for the economy and attempted, with difficulty, to define and operationalize “healthy aquatic ecosystems,” including a failed attempt to define riparian areas that was rejected by government lawyers. Major outputs included a draft provincial wetland policy delivered in 2008, which the government only translated into the current policy in 2013, and a voluntary initiative where all water‑using sectors reduced water use by 30% within two years, a target the chair had chosen somewhat arbitrarily. White notes the Council also produced numerous documents on drought, floods, drinking water, and source water protection, largely through volunteer project teams supported by a small staff, arguing the province received exceptional value for minimal funding.

The turning point of the conversation is the Alberta government’s abrupt decision to terminate the Alberta Water Council. White recounts receiving a January 26 letter giving the Council 90 days to wind down, despite a grant that was supposed to run until late 2026, and being asked to chair the final full board meeting. He reads his “Jerry Maguire moment” statement, in which he condemns the decision as deeply disappointing and the process as a three‑month “erasure” of 23 years of collaborative governance, trust, and capacity. He stresses that the Council was not ineffective or obsolete but “patient” and “inconvenient to haste,” and warns that the loss of its advisory role will be felt later as policy gaps and fractured relationships. Afterward, colleagues reacted with stunned silence and later messages of support; White and others believe the 90‑day cutoff was designed to prevent the Council from securing new operational funding, which typically takes years to obtain. The host connects this to a broader pattern of “erasure,” including reports of documents being removed from government offices after the 2019 election and the rapid dismantling or absorption of major entities in the oil and gas sector.

Board Colleagues,

 There are moments when the decisions of those in power do more than alter budgets or reorganize priorities.
They reveal what we value—and, more troublingly, what we are willing to abandon.
For twenty‑three years, the Alberta Water Council served as a place of careful listening.
A forum where industry, communities, municipalities, and government itself met not as adversaries, but as stewards of a shared responsibility.
Water, after all, is not ideological. It is not partisan. Water is life.
And yet, with little warning and less regard, this work has been consigned to a three‑month farewell.
Decades of trust, expertise, and collaboration reduced to a winding‑down period scarcely long enough to say goodbye—let alone account for what is being lost.
This Council has spent twenty‑three years doing work that rarely makes headlines—and that is precisely why it mattered.
As a Water for Life partner, the Alberta Water Council proved that shared governance and collaboration was not a weakness, but a strength.
Industry, municipalities, NGOs, and government came to the same table—not to win, but to understand.
We did not chase certainty. We built trust.
And now, with three months’ notice, that trust is being asked to quietly disperse.
I want to be clear about my reaction.
I am deeply disappointed by this decision.
And I am profoundly disturbed by the manner in which it was made.
This was not an organization that failed.
It was not ineffective.
It was not obsolete.
It was patient. It was careful. It was inconvenient to haste.
Collaborative water policy is slow by design. It asks people who disagree to keep speaking.
It insists that water—shared, finite, and unforgiving—deserves more than short timelines and abrupt conclusions.
Three months is not a transition.
It is an erasure.
Long after this Council closes its doors, the consequences of this decision will remain—felt in policy gaps, fractured relationships, and lost capacity that cannot be reassembled on demand.
History rarely marks the moment when stewardship ends.
It only records when its absence is finally noticed.
We did the work.
We honored the responsibility.
And that record will stand—whether it is acknowledged or not.
Water policy advice is not dramatic.
But its absence is.
And one day, when foresight is urgently needed and quietly missing,
we will recall that it did not vanish on its own.
It was cancelled.

We then examine the broader dismantling of Alberta’s water governance architecture. Jay explains that WPACs are mandated to produce regular state‑of‑the‑watershed reports and integrated watershed management plans, but these plans are explicitly voluntary and lack regulatory hooks, leading some industry representatives to disengage once they realize there is no binding requirement. He notes that watershed stewardship groups, which implement on‑the‑ground projects like riparian fencing and off‑site watering, have lost a key funding conduit with the disappearance of the Land Stewardship Centre, creating competition for “paltry” remaining funds. With the Alberta Water Council gone at the top and stewardship funding cut at the bottom, only the WPACs remain, and their own funding agreements expire at the end of 2026, making 2027 a critical and uncertain year. I underscore that these structures were about ensuring clean, sufficient drinking water and functioning ecosystems that underpin the entire economy, and expresses alarm that advisory capacity is being casually removed.

In the latter part of the conversation, we connect Alberta’s situation to national and global biodiversity and climate commitments. White describes the federal “Force of Nature” policy, tied to Kunming biodiversity commitments and the goal of protecting 30% of land and waters by 2030, backed by $2.8 billion in funding. As a biologist working on wetland restoration projects, Jay was eager to see this funding support restoration and reclamation, especially given severe biodiversity losses—about 70% of aquatic species in North America and 40–50% of global biodiversity in the last 50 years—and the current “sixth major extinction” driven by humans. However, Alberta was skipped in the first funding round; White notes the provincial government claimed it did not need the money because 64% of Alberta (the green area) is Crown‑managed and supposedly “essentially undisturbed,” a claim he disputes by pointing to Alberta Biodiversity Monitoring Institute data showing extensive human footprint and fragmentation.

Take Action: Write the ECCC and Alberta Environment Ministers

Subject: Enforce the “Force of Nature” Strategy in Alberta

To: julie.dabrusin@parl.gc.ca

Cc: epa.outreach-services@gov.ab.ca (Grant Hunter); your MLA, the Premier

Dear Hon. Julie Dabrusin,

It has come to my attention that Alberta did not receive any Federal grant money related to the Federal Nature Strategy. As a province with the largest ongoing environmental catastrophe underway—where interbasin transfers are being contemplated to sustain an outrageous level of steam injection and extraction, with growing groundwater contamination concerns, coupled with more than 275,000 conventional oil and gas sites to be restored—I am shocked our province did not seek or receive funding in this program.

Restoring nature is required for Alberta and Canada to regain ecological stability. Each province should receive funds and measure success through biodiversity and water monitoring and mitigation efforts.

Considering the energy and ecological cliff this province and country is facing (due to the war on Iran and the unchecked climate crisis), it is time to ensure this work aligns with Species at Risk and Land Stewardship Laws before it is too late. There is no question we face water bankruptcy if we do not take nature restoration work seriously.

Please advise how Environment and Climate Change Canada and Alberta Environment are working together to ensure the province takes its role seriously in these efforts. The federal government needs to cease oil and gas development, pipelines, tolls, or carbon capture and storage subsidies but rather co-invest in nature and water restoration with industries.

Sincerely,

Jenny Yeremiy, P. Geoph

Wesam explains that the new MOU, pushed by the United States, has not been signed by Iran and is already being violated by Israel, which refuses to recognize that it applies to them and continues bombing Lebanon, including Beirut. He argues that Iran is in a position of military strength, confident it could “end this once and for all” if forced into an all‑out war, though at enormous human cost. We both emphasize that US‑Israeli strategy relies on deliberate attacks on civilians as a core military tactic, citing the bombing of a girls’ school and the broader pattern in Gaza, Lebanon, and Iran. We criticize Western media as actively misleading on West Asia, praising Iran’s English‑language PressTV.ir as more accurate about on‑the‑ground realities than corporate Western outlets.

We then connect the war to global economic and energy dynamics, arguing that the US is masking crisis by draining oil reserves and manipulating markets, while Iran leverages its position in a broader struggle over fossil fuels. I describe US oil infrastructure like Cushing as “arteries” now running low, warning that restarting flows will be difficult and that the US is only a few weeks away from feeling severe impacts. I link this to Alberta’s role as a supplier and to the idea that investing in the “most expensive” military has not produced the most effective one, especially when facing a confident Iran willing to prolong the energy squeeze. Wesam notes that Western governments, including Canada, now largely support the deal with Iran to avoid “falling off a cliff,” while Israel alone vetoes peace through continued bombing, revealing its outsized leverage even over the Trump administration.

The discussion shifts to Zionism and settler colonialism, distinguishing between Christian Zionists, who see Israel as part of an apocalyptic prophecy, and Jewish Zionists, who view the land as divinely promised and expandable beyond Palestine into neighbouring states. I highlight the “Greater Israel” project and note that even as Israel loses militarily, it is still grabbing land in Lebanon, aided by a US president with a real‑estate mindset. Wesam explicitly labels Israel a settler‑colonial project akin to Canada, built on racist expansion, genocide, and the confinement of Indigenous peoples into “bantustans,” and argues that Iran, Palestine, and regional resistance movements have concluded they can no longer coexist with this settler colony. He warns that Israel’s deep push into Lebanon may be overextension, likening it to the board game Risk where an army stretches too thin and becomes vulnerable to counterattack.

From there, we pivot to Alberta and Canada, framing Alberta as a “minor front” of US empire where inter‑imperialist competition between the US and Europe plays out over pipelines, resources, and political alignment. Wesam describes competing pipeline visions—one east‑west to feed European markets and another southward backed by Premier Danielle Smith—alongside talk of Canada potentially joining the EU, which the US would oppose in favour of absorbing Canada itself. We connect this to a massive planned build‑out of AI data centres in Alberta, driven by natural gas and championed by figures like Kevin O’Leary, and warn that this expansion threatens water, ecosystems, and Indigenous rights while enriching external investors who can “take the money and run.” I describe the provincial referendum with nine “unconstitutional” questions that she believes are designed to deepen racial divisions, undermine rights, and invite US‑style enforcement (e.g., ICE‑like agencies), and she outlines her work with Public Interest Alberta’s “Together No” campaign to oppose these measures and broader separatist agendas.

In the final stretch, we centre Indigenous nations and Palestinian solidarity as crucial to any meaningful anti‑separatist or anti‑imperialist project. Wesam notes that treaty nations have become the strongest defenders of the land, in part because of long experience resisting Canadian and RCMP abuses, and mentions that chiefs are seeking to have Danielle Smith tried for treason. He argues that if Alberta ever gains a right to secede, every treaty nation must first have the right to secede from Alberta, and that white Canadians must commit to “absolute uncontested sovereignty” for Indigenous peoples and to ending projects like pipelines imposed over Indigenous opposition. He also points to a scandal around the suppression of a Gaza encampment at the University of Calgary, allegedly involving Mike Ellis and possibly Danielle Smith, as a potential lever to weaken the Smith government and its separatist ambitions, but insists this can only be used by an anti‑separatist movement that openly and fully supports Gaza and Palestinian liberation. The episode closes with both speakers stressing reciprocity and solidarity—between settlers, Indigenous nations, and West Asian communities—and inviting anti‑separatist leaders to an upcoming July 5 anti‑imperialist forum in Alberta to discuss how struggles in Palestine, West Asia, and the Americas are interconnected.

Post show media sources

1. https://www.ctvnews.ca/politics/article/pm-carney-says-hes-seen-tentative-us-iran-peace-deal-calls-conflict-worth-it/

2. https://www.cbc.ca/news/world/iran-war-united-states-israel-lebanon-deal-9.7237094

3. Post Media Graphic & Post

4. https://nationalpost.com/news/world/israel-middle-east/details-of-us-iran-deal-revealed

5. https://www.cnn.com/2026/06/12/business/cushing-oil-inventory

6. https://fortune.com/2026/06/10/us-strategic-petroleum-reserve-depleted-lowest-level-since-reagan/

7. Bonus market turmoil discussion courtesy of Kpler who offers global trade intelligence:

Meet Kpler at Stampede

I am attending the Kpler stampede party to get the scoop from this oil and gas market flows analyst directly.

Kpler Stampede Party Registration

Jessica introduces herself as a water and climate campaigner, formerly a Line 5 pipeline organizer with Sierra Club Canada, living in Guelph with her family. She shares a story about activist Kim Bradshaw lending her a car so Kim could travel by train to glue her hands to an airport tarmac in an anti–big oil action, illustrating “community in action.”

Jessica describes her unusual path into activism: she left law school after being diagnosed with fibromyalgia, then became a yoga teacher, which shaped her ability to “hold space” in movements. This conversation came after I watched a pro‑pipeline “Build Ontario Strong” ad promoting gas for AI infrastructure and wanted an Ontario perspective. Jessica recounts a recent two‑day Civil Society Summit on the AI industry, with 270 attendees and panels on Indigenous data sovereignty, environmental harms, gender‑based violence, labour, war, food systems, corporate accountability, and AI in media and arts. She stresses the summit was not about shaming everyday AI use (like email summarization) but about how AI is being used as a “front person” for oil and gas, justifying continued fossil fuel expansion under nationalist competition narratives.

Jessica frames AI as a neutral tool—like a hammer—whose impact depends on who controls it, what rules exist, and how power is exercised. I echo this, arguing AI can be used for “pro‑social” purposes such as organising toward a water‑centred economy, minimizing energy use, and keeping systems local rather than controlled by foreign entities. I link AI expansion to abandonment of international law and corporate accountability, warning of ecological collapse and citing examples of water contamination and freshwater loss in places like Texas and Louisiana.

Jessica explains that civil society is trying to reclaim the AI narrative from “tech bros” who have captured political attention, and to invite everyday people into the conversation. She notes that youth, highly adept with digital tools, are at the forefront of resisting AI data centres and can mobilise quickly even within short public‑input windows and confirms summit recordings are available at AICivilsociety.ca. I highlight @Alberta_Anti_AI, an Instagram group with over 3,000 members in under a month, and describes coordinated rallies in Alberta and Ontario, including a Unity rally and anti‑AI rally in Calgary, and a previous provincial‑wide day of action with thousands in Edmonton, Calgary, and [21] other locations. Check out @Solstice’s video from the main event in Calgary here.

Jessica cites Hamilton and Burks Falls (Ontario) as recent examples of local resistance, noting that some victories—like projects stopped before shovels hit the ground—are under‑reported but real. In Burks Falls, two 20‑year‑old women organized opposition that led the city to take a data centre proposal off the table. She emphasizes that activism often slows rather than fully stops projects, buying time for alternative paths to emerge. I agree, it’s a David‑and‑Goliath struggle where our wins are measured in delays and vigilance.

I describe Alberta communities organizing against massive data centres, including one 1.4‑gigawatt project (equivalent to 1.4 million homes’ energy use) that drew over 1,100 statements of concern. I criticize incomplete accounting that ignores upstream gas extraction and frac’ing, pointing out that water used in fracking is permanently lost. She mentions strong pushback in Grande Prairie and multiple sites near Calgary, with communities sharing strategies and resources like the airesistlist.org website.

Jessica tells me municipalities are key battlegrounds because AI data centres intersect with zoning, real estate, and venture capital. She describes efforts to support youth organizers who want June 27 to become a national day of action, prompted by BC Greens leader Emily Lowen. With only 16 days’ lead time, they are building a decentralized toolkit tailored to the Canadian context and engaging about 200 people across sectors to define what civil society should be in this moment. She argues AI threatens the entire political spectrum and cites Mark Carney’s “AI for All” strategy as essentially focused on ensuring adoption, not democratic consent.

I underscore AI is unifying issue across left and right, tied to water, surveillance, safety, jobs, and environmental destruction. I cite the Wonder Valley project, which she says would be the largest heat source in the world, and name large AI data centres “gas guzzling” and resource‑wasting infrastructure serving billionaires, contrasting them with low‑power, everyday AI uses. Jessica clarifies that “AI” is often used as a monolithic term, but the real empire project is the race toward AGI—machines outperforming humans on all tasks—requiring massive power to scrape the entire internet. She notes AI can also be small‑scale and community‑oriented, such as tools for preserving local languages. However, she argues current dominant uses deepen social inequity rather than reduce it.

I give a concrete example of AI‑enabled monetization: vehicles from 2026 onward reportedly requiring subscriptions for features like heated seats and full radio use, effectively taxing people’s own property and widening divides. I support national coordination and cites Taiwan’s Audrey Tang using digital tools to achieve 90% public support for policies before voting, as well as the town of Olds exploring people‑driven economic planning instead of elite committees. I link AI data centres to centralized power generation, arguing that renewables’ strength lies in decentralization and security, especially as wars make large {oil and gas] facilities, including AI centres, potential military targets.

Jessica reflects on a broader shift from “power over” to “power with,” calling solidarity a “miracle” given humanity’s long, often violent history. She notes that people now show solidarity beyond shared language or appearance, citing global concern for Gaza as an example. She argues big‑tent movements should not require full consensus and asks how much agreement is really needed to work together, given our survival is intertwined. She references Maud Barlow’s warning that within about 10 years there could be a 40% global water shortfall, stressing the urgency as billionaires continue extracting both resources and power. She highlights that many US AI data‑centre fights are led by everyday people—barbers, teenagers, young adults—and frames this as a moment where “the box has crumbled,” asking who we want to be.

I agree that anyone who cares can participate and recounts narratives that divide provinces: Alberta stereotypes about Ontario’s “Laurentian elites” and Ontarians allegedly seeing Albertans as backward “bow hunks” needing outside guidance. I warn these stories hinder cooperation even as shared threats like AI data centres and looming “water bankruptcy” (citing UN water expert Bob Sandford’s work) demand unity and ecological restoration. I ask Jessica how these narratives look from Ontario.

Jessica says her view of other provinces is primarily relational, shaped by people she’s worked with rather than media narratives, and she feels “unplugged” from many ads and stereotypes because she doesn’t watch organized sports. She acknowledges that separatist movements and social media algorithms fuel judging and generalizing about entire provinces. She stresses that relational work is “everything” because elites benefit when people are easily controlled by pre‑packaged narratives. She cites reports that first‑year university students struggle to finish full papers due to social media’s impact on attention, warning this undermines future capacity to read complex bills or arguments. She argues that change will come less from perfect arguments and more from thousands of people building relationships and community resilience as crises—especially in the Global South—intensify. She frames “divide and conquer” as a deliberate strategy of those in power and calls for stretching our capacity to see each other freshly, beyond conditioning.

I point to Gaza as both horrifying and inspiring, noting that people there have not turned on each other despite extreme conditions. I see this as a lesson in solidarity. I recall a Chinese government representative describing an “inevitability of peace,” which she finds a hopeful framing for this transition from power over to power with. I believe stopping further system deterioration would itself be a remarkable achievement and feel encouraged by emerging resistance.

In closing, Jessica emphasizes that activism is deeply personal and often happens in quiet, internal moments: noticing when we react to flattening narratives, asking who benefits if we believe them, and cultivating a habit of reflection. She calls this “life finding its own intelligence” and stresses that activism is not only public action but also slowing down with ourselves, questioning anger and manipulation before acting. I connect this to spiritual practice and “micro moments” of discernment—asking who is speaking, for whose benefit, and whether a message is truly for us—suggesting such practices are becoming more common.

Join the AI Civil Society today!

AICivilSociety.ca

Albertans often view Quebec as a “taker” province that receives special treatment, keeps its wealth, and benefits from federal transfers while restricting Alberta’s ability to develop oil and gas. Quebec is perceived as having different values—linked mainly to French culture—and as opposing Alberta’s oil and gas interests, especially around pipelines and environmental protection. At the same time, I note that Quebec’s stronger climate stance and bans on practices like frac’ing are seen as positive environmental leadership, even if they clash with Alberta’s extractive priorities.

Chris explains that many Albertans misunderstand equalization, believing Alberta should get back exactly what it pays in federal taxes, when in reality the federal government redistributes funds based on national priorities, meaning Alberta may not see a direct return on every dollar. This feeds a perception that Quebec and Ottawa benefit from Alberta’s wealth and block its development, reinforcing grievances that fuel separatist sentiment.

Comparisons are drawn between Alberta’s oil sands and Quebec’s large-scale hydro, mining, and industrial projects; many Albertans feel Quebec gets easier federal approval and preferential treatment for its projects, while Alberta faces more scrutiny. I question whether this perception is actually true, emphasizing that it is a narrative rather than a proven fact.

The discussion then shifts to Ontario and the idea of “Laurentian elites,” described as longstanding political and industrial power networks in central Canada—families, capitalists, and industrial behemoths concentrated along the Great Lakes and St. Lawrence corridor, historically shaping national decisions. Alberta’s story about Ontario includes a sense that central Canada is the political center that decides national outcomes because of its population, leaving the Prairies feeling numerically and politically sidelined.

I recount past experiences of Ontarians viewing Alberta as backward or insignificant (e.g., being asked if Edmonton had paved roads), contributing to a feeling that Ontarians see Albertans as beneath them. Today, Chris notes that Ontario’s Progressive Conservative government is more moderate than Alberta’s United Conservative Party, and that Alberta Conservatives may not see Ontario Conservatives as truly conservative. I highlight that Ontario’s premier has recently adopted more Alberta-like rhetoric on pipelines and natural gas, suggesting some current alignment around resource development.

Despite these political dynamics, many Albertans still believe people in Ontario don’t understand or care about life in Alberta. I challenge the assumption that Ontarians broadly look down on Albertans, suggesting many Ontarians may share similar distrust of government and Ottawa, and that the “they think less of us” story may be overstated.

Narratives about Ottawa in Alberta center on the belief that the federal government is “handcuffing” Alberta, imposing rules that don’t make sense locally and preventing the province from thriving. Chris uses the example of federal restrictions on strychnine for prairie dog control, explaining how the poison moves up the food chain and harms predators and other animals, and how federal scientists pushed for restrictions to protect biodiversity. Political pressure from farmers led Ottawa to loosen these rules, illustrating tensions between private property rights, environmental science, and federal regulation.

We argue that private land use must respect “natural law,” especially in sensitive areas like riparian zones and creeks, where leaving buffer strips and protecting vegetation can benefit both farms and ecosystems. We frame riparian areas as critical infrastructure that reduce flood risk and protect surrounding lands, and suggest that better protection of such areas could have solved many environmental problems.

I advocate for nation-building projects focused on ecological restoration—re-willowing riparian zones, restoring wetlands, and headwater forests—as nature-based solutions that reduce long-term costs from climate-related disasters like severe hailstorms in Calgary, which cause billions in damages and higher insurance costs. Chris notes that current infrastructure spending tends to favour hard engineering (rocks, culverts, road works) because that’s where the money is, while the benefits of ecological approaches are poorly quantified.

Turning to the Maritimes, Albertan narratives often claim that Atlantic provinces have too many federal seats relative to their populations and that residents work just enough to qualify for employment insurance, reinforcing another “taker” stereotype. I recall the older concept of “have-not” provinces and the idea that wealthier regions should help those with fewer opportunities, and wonders if this solidarity has eroded.

Chris explains how the collapse of Atlantic cod fisheries transformed the region: scientific warnings about declining stocks led to calls for quota cuts, but political backlash weakened restrictions, and combined with technological advances and corporate consolidation, this drove overfishing and ultimately a catastrophic stock collapse that has not recovered. This history is used as an analogy for Alberta’s oil industry: I suggest Alberta could face a similar collapse if it over-extracts, especially given constraints like water transfers between basins, risks of over-pressurized formations, and evidence of freshwater contamination near Cold Lake. We argue that while private capital may sees Alberta oil and gas as a good short-term investment, environmental limits and potential catastrophes could force a rapid shift.

Our conversation concludes by tying these regional narratives back to Alberta’s internal identity. Chris says some Albertans behave like a family member who insists on having their way all the time and refuses criticism, even though Canada’s strength lies in its diversity. As a lifelong Albertan, we feel the province has changed: where Alberta once invested in campgrounds, forest rangers, wildlife protection, and a sense of balance, economic development and in-migration have shifted priorities toward making as much money as possible, often at the expense of natural infrastructure that will eventually need repair. This reinforces the broader point that many Alberta narratives about other regions and Ottawa are shaped by political messaging and economic anxiety, and that rebalancing toward environmental stewardship and interprovincial solidarity may be necessary.

Do you agree? What did we miss or where did we go wrong?

From my perspective—as a geophysicist and oil and gas environmental liability expert—what’s happening in Olds is both shocking and emblematic of a wider pattern: residents are blindsided by huge, high‑impact projects—Synapse and Data District—framed as “done deals” by local and provincial economic arms before people have real information or a meaningful say. Janey highlights that Synapse is a 1.4‑gigawatt project—equivalent to adding about one million homes’ worth of power demand—and that there are two data centres proposed in her small town. I note more proposals appearing near Calgary, in Bonnyville and Fox Creek, and Wonder Valley in Grande Prairie.

A 1.4 gigawatt facility is like adding 1.4 million homes to Alberta’s grid “suddenly” and will affect everyone’s power costs and the province’s competitiveness, and it risks turning Alberta into a “sacrificial lamb” for a federal AI and data‑centre agenda. I explicitly connect this to a push to monetise natural gas and build massive fossil‑fuel‑driven power infrastructure—hundreds of diesel generators, turbines, and chillers running 24/7—just to feed these centres.

I outline who stands to gain from these AI data centers in this conversation with Charlie Angus on Meidas Canada.

Note: Wonder Valley is backed by UAE (https://www.theenergymix.com/70b-wonder-valley-project-still-a-mirage-as-olearys-ai-dream-stalls-in-alberta/) while Kuwait and Qatar are partnered with Brookfield’s Investment partners for Synapse.

Water is at the heart of our concerns. We stress that rural residents are already facing “very scary stuff” around water access and control, and that these data centres are “high draw water users” arriving in a context of growing scarcity. I explicitly thank Janey for “following the water” and say that water is “central to everything we want to have in this world,” making it unacceptable to hand it over to AI data centres “to compete with China” for something that doesn’t add value to the common good. I bring in the warning from UN water advisor Bob Sandford about us being on the “cusp of water bankruptcy,” and argue that this is precisely why cumulative water‑impact safeguards are being stripped away—because honest assessment would stop “this obscenity.”

The removal of environmental impact assessments is, to me, one of the most alarming pieces. I echo Janey’s point that environmental impact assessments—which check cumulative impacts of water and power—have been removed for both Wonder Valley and Synapse, leaving the AUC to look only at project‑specific issues rather than the bigger picture. I call this “critical” at a “critical point in time” and say it’s “quite obvious” that these safeguards have been “thrown out the window” precisely because they would block such “obscene” developments.

Janey notes a deep contradiction between years of carbon‑tax pressure on ordinary people and the sudden willingness of governments to green‑light massive, round‑the‑clock fossil‑fuel power plants for data centres, without robust cumulative environmental review. Janey describes how, after years of being “plagued with carbon taxes,” governments are now “throw[ing] the doors open” to polluting projects in order to “beat China” and make Alberta the “sacrificial province,” and I explicitly underscore that framing for listeners. I emphasise that this is “very big stuff and not something to be taken lightly.”

At the same time, I’m inspired by the scale and quality of local resistance. Janey explains how a small kitchen‑table group in Olds has grown into a record‑setting intervention at the Alberta Utilities Commission, with over 1,100 people stepping up to participate in proceeding 30732. I stress that the AUC staff themselves seem to be trying to do their jobs well and help residents navigate the process, even as higher‑level political decisions strip away environmental safeguards.

Take Action: use Little Town Big Data’s Guide to submitting a Statement of Intent to Become an Intervenor

Little Town Big Data Instructions

To amplify these local efforts, clarify timelines and tools for public action, and connect the dots for my audience between Olds, other proposed data‑centre sites, and broader provincial and federal policy directions, Janey walks listeners through the significance of the 1.4‑gigawatt load, the AUC proceeding number (30732), and the steps for filing a Statement of Intent to Participate, and I commit to following up so the public can “jump in when it’s most helpful.” Janey also encourage people to contact the province and the premier directly to demand a moratorium or slowdown so Alberta doesn’t become a “data‑centric guinea pig.”

Here’s the Premier’s Email: Premier@gov.ab.ca.

Olds fight as part of a larger pattern Alberta has seen before—like the coal‑mining battles—and standing up for water is critical for everyone, not just Olds. I call Janey and her neighbours “heroes for Alberta” and emphasize that these projects are deliberately sited in smaller communities where there are “fewer voices to be heard,” which is why broader provincial support from you and me is essential.

I criticize the new newsletter about a proposed data centre project for omitting key information about what powers the facility, assuming it will rely on natural gas and arguing that this leaves out major parts of the electricity, water, and contamination story. I highlight that the project is expected to use about six billion liters of water per year (six million cubic meters), which is roughly equivalent to the annual allocation for the Greenview District, effectively doubling municipal water use for a single project and with no guarantee that usage would remain capped at that level. I also note concerns about power demand, citing examples like Lake Tahoe where residents were reportedly told they could no longer get grid power due to a data facility, and emphasize that a seven‑gigawatt facility would be a massive addition, equating five gigawatts to the power needs of five million people.

I argue there is “zero benefit” to Canada and Albertans, claiming the project offers only limited construction and operations jobs and primarily serves U.S. government interests, which they accuse of trying to push Canada toward violating international law, climate obligations, and stability. I add that, especially after the war in Iran and anticipated resource shortages, leaders should make “extreme choices” to limit use of fossil fuels and ensure benefits do not accrue mainly to fossil fuel interests.

When asked what information the company should provide, I say the full scope of the project must be disclosed, including how power will be generated and the associated infrastructure, pointing to the example of Olds where oil and gas workers understand the gas turbines, roadways, and infrastructure needed for such projects. Drawing on personal experience working near Grande Prairie, I speculate that a large gas cap over an oil field might be used to extend the life of a field instead of addressing environmental cleanup obligations, calling this a likely costly error. I also reference the prime minister’s recent statement that the U.S. is misleading and argue Canada should not follow a “mega pipeline drill, baby drill” agenda.

On public engagement, I describe significant opposition in Olds, describing “major outcry” and strong grassroots organizing, including people handing out posters and flyers and encouraging Albertans to file statements of concern against the project. I mention an upcoming open house in Olds on June 24, to be attended by the premier and local MLA Sawyer, and question whether Grande Prairie has been given a similar opportunity. For the upcoming open house in the Grande Prairie region, they say they hope the project is “shut down immediately,” arguing Greenview County should prioritize supporting farmers and the agricultural economy and focus on water restoration and cleanup operations instead. I suggest stopping the project now to limit any damages O’Leary’s business could claim, referencing the Grassy Mountain coal project as a precedent where the answer was to “settle.”

I explain my participation a recent webinar through Public Interest Alberta was to inform the public about environmental liabilities and the impacts of data centres on water use, cybersecurity, and water security, describing these facilities as “non‑starters” and noting similar projects have been stopped elsewhere. I see data centres as another face of fossil fuel expansion and argue that carbon capture and storage is not a genuine climate solution, based on their industry experience. I insist fossil fuel expansion for hydrogen, LNG export, or data facilities—especially those they say could benefit “nefarious actors”—must not proceed, and that public opposition and on‑the‑ground action are the only ways to stop such projects.

Regarding the webinar’s reception, I report that hundreds attended and feedback was “really good, really strong,” and they mention a planned follow‑up interview on their platform “The Gravity Well” and further efforts by environmental organizations to keep sharing information. I warn that data centres should not be appealing to Albertans because they bring in large corporate and billionaire interests that do not help the province through challenging times.

When asked why I care, I explain how this is about “our present and our future,” citing their two children and Alberta’s role as a headwater province that should focus on restoring water rather than extracting more fossil fuels. They reference the “keep it in the ground” philosophy and carbon pricing as concepts originating in the oil and gas industry, arguing that remaining resources are not worth extracting and would cause irreparable harm, which motivates them to do this work even without pay.

Here’s the link to Eagle Andersen’s article, please follow him as he will be attending the open house tomorrow and hopes to gain a statement from the Sturgeon Lake Chief. Jody MacPherson of is following the Wonder Valley story closely: https://www.theenergymix.com/hidden-wonder-valley/.

• Recentering decision-making around water and land restoration, not energy growth.

• Recognizing we are in a polycrisis: seeing multiple and additive crises with the common root causes: extraction, accumulation, and exploitation.

• Unwinding the neoliberal playbook of manufactured scarcity (cutting of public services), division, deregulation, private wealth accumulation, and stunting of our imaginations.

• Reclaiming the term “economy” as “caring for one another”. Own the economy you wish to foster.

• Grow alternatives which include principles of reciprocity, solidarity, and equity.

• Look to other jurisdictions, including the Canadian Quality of Life Framework, to help shape your local well-being economy.

We hope to have a similar meeting in Calgary this fall to continue this effort, stay tuned! A special shout out to for all of Nate Pike’s help in gaining support for recalls.

Should you wish to join Lindsay and I in shaping a well-being economy in Alberta through the PIA Democracy Task Force in Alberta, please email Brad Lafortune of PIA here: brad.lafortune@pialberta.org. Help Brad (or I) know what you’d like to see from the Democracy Task Force.

The Gravity Well | Public Interest Alberta Collaboration

I had the pleasure of joining Brad Lafortune of PIA in co-hosting a webinar on the Artificial Intelligence (AI) data center explosion happening in Alberta, across North America, and the world. Locally, the United Conservative Party of Alberta did not run on a platform of AI water and power consumption or foreign surveillance intensification. The webinar features Representative Melanie Sachs of the House in Maine. Melanie created and passed a non-partisan AI ban bill, ultimately vetoed by a single elected official. Melanie shows the specific project at play in her area and its derelict conditions.

It’s vital Albertans follow the success, and learn from the failures, of other jurisdictions in order to stop AI data center construction in Alberta and Canada.

Stay tuned for more updates on this from Brad, Lindsay and I.

Sign Matilda's Change.org Petition!

Jenny:
Okay, thank you for joining me today, Matilda. Let’s start with who you are, what you’re up to and just a little bit about you for people listening. Thank you.

Matilda:

Yeah, thank you for having me. My name is Matilda. I’m a grade 10 student at William Aberhart High School. And yeah, this is my project to get free feminine hygiene product dispensers in the girls’ bathroom.

Jenny:

Excellent. And remind us, today’s a special day, right? What’s today for folks who don’t know?

Matilda:

It’s Menstrual Equity Day and Menstrual Awareness Day. A day to make people aware of people that have periods and how they deal with them and the barriers that are in their way and just kind of an advocacy day.

Jenny:

Amazing. Out of curiosity, is there anywhere people can go to find information about that on today?

Matilda:

Well, there’s a website that I like or an Instagram account called The Period Purse. I follow them. They’re a Canadian-based organization and they have a lot of good information.

Jenny:

Amazing. Thank you so much for that, Matilda. Okay. You’re trying to make sure that feminine hygiene projects are free for any student that needs them in high school, at your high school, correct? Yes. And so what does that look like? Why are you doing that? What’s the rationale behind the project?

Matilda:

Well, I just thought that it kind of started with a feeling that I had when I got my period in a bathroom one day and there was nothing there. I was like, “Well, there’s got to be other girls like me.” And it was a really, really bad feeling and there was nobody else there and I didn’t know that my school had stuff, which they don’t. I was like, “Well, I want to do something to stop this.”

Jenny:

Yeah, that’s nuts. I can actually remember a very similar scenario, not just once but many times when I was in high school where I felt I forgot to prepare myself. And yeah, it’s also something that we don’t talk about enough because it does feel like it’s your own thing that happens and not really just an understanding of what it’s like for before it comes kind of thing.

Matilda:

Yeah. Especially in high schools, there’s lots of stigma around it. People will just say, “I’m not feeling well. I need to go home to a teacher instead of like, I’ve got my period. Nobody will ask each other for products when they need them.” And people will just pretend they don’t have it or they’ll laugh about it like, “Ha ha, I got my period when it’s a serious biological thing.”

Jenny:

Yeah. I’ve heard there are certain cultures that will celebrate it and it’ll be a big moment for people and you’re right. That’s amazing to hear that it hasn’t changed much since I was in high school because I remember having all of those same experiences of shame almost with it or like trying to hide it or just make light of it and not take it seriously. And a lot of problems come with it too. I remember having lots of pain and in some cases where it was debilitating. So yeah, it’s something we should really understand better and be okay with talking about, right?

Matilda:

Yeah, definitely. And that’s like a tangent to my project, of course, my main thing is to get the feminine hygiene products, but I also want to increase awareness and increase people talking about it at my school.

Jenny:

Amazing. So important. I really appreciate you taking this initiative. So how can people help? What can people do to get involved? Let’s start with adults like me and then we’ll talk about students.

Matilda:

I have a change.org petition. So you can go on their website and search for William Aberhart and my petition will pop right up and you can sign that. You can reach out to if you have kids or if you know people who have children at schools, you can email their principal or the administration to ask what their kind of situation is. You can get involved in parent councils or you can email school board trustees and MLAs.

Sign Petition for Aberhard to Flow Free

Jenny:

Amazing. Thank you. Those are all awesome and I will try to make sure to give as much information as possible when I post this conversation for folks. What about students? How can students get more involved in what you’re doing, Matilda?

Matilda:

When you’re at school and you have something you can first of all just talk about it, even if it’s a friend or two friends, that’s people that know about it. You can mention it to your guidance counsellor in their appointment. You can insist with your teachers and your principals and your assistant principals tell them that this is something that we need because the more students that bring up this issue, the more likely they are to move forward with it.

Jenny:

Yeah, absolutely. And you’re right. It’s something that we should be expecting of our classrooms, our schools, I should say, because the thing that we think is important is the thing that we will start feeling is okay and safe to talk about, things like that. Amazing. I can see the value in what you’re doing. It’s wonderful stuff. So can you talk a little bit about the state of education for you, Matilda? What’s it like these days? Do you have concerns? What are your thoughts for people?

Matilda:

Yeah. So schools right now, the class sizes are so big that, for example, in my math class, half of the students needed help in the trigonometry unit, but the teacher could only help a few of those students because there wasn’t enough support for all of them and all of their questions because each student had multiple questions and they needed the teacher to go over it multiple times. It’s just crazy. It’s too big and it’s always so loud and sometimes there’s not even enough desks in the classrooms for everybody to sit at.

Jenny:

Thank you for saying that because I’ve heard people try and tell me online that that’s not true. And I had heard that William Aberhart was one of those schools that there literally was not enough seats for students to be in in some classes. It’s crazy.

Matilda:

Yeah. It’s ridiculous. And even in classes like yoga, there’s not enough space in the yoga room for like 35 people to do yoga and not crash into each other every pose we’re doing.

Jenny:

Right. I can just imagine. I’ve been in a yoga class that’s packed and that 35 is nuts. That’s a huge room that’s required for that. Wow. Well, thank you so much, Matilda. Is there anything else you want to add before we close? I’m hearing that people should go to change.org. They should check out your petition. They should talk to the schools that their students go to, make sure that this is accessible and that students should talk about this amongst themselves and with their guidance counsellor and with their teachers and make it a priority. Anything more you want to add?

Matilda:

Students can talk to their parents too. And if you support me, follow me on Instagram at @abeflowsfree and I believe we’re doing a bake sale this month or maybe next, so I’ll follow up

Jenny:

With that. Excellent. So they can look to your Instagram, which is ABE Flows [Free]. Is that correct?

Matilda:

Yes.

Jenny: Great. So @Abeflowsfree on Instagram, find out about the bake sale that’s coming up shortly. Thank you for all you’re doing, Matilda. Make sure you poke me when you’re doing that so I can make sure people know to get out there and get some baked goods with you, support the cause.

Matilda:

Yeah, for sure. Thank you so much.

Jenny:

Thank you. Take care for now.