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1 Introduction

Hydraulic fracturing (“fracking”) is an extractive technique that involves injecting hydraulically pressurized liquid into shale rock in order to fracture it and release the natural gas inside (Rivard et al. 2014). Water use in this process is extensive and intensive: high volumes of water are typically combined with sand and chemicals for injection, and then the resulting contaminated wastewater is disposed of in holding pools or injected into aquifers. While hydraulic fracturing is not new, technological advancements in horizontal drilling and multi-stage fracturing have intensified both its profitability and thus, interest in development, but also the related and substantial water use. The growth in this industry has also brought an increase in public concerns about the impacts of hydraulic fracturing in general, and, more specifically, about the risks to water quality and quantity.

In recent years, research into the impacts of hydraulic fracturing has become clearer about the ecological and public health risks linked to surface and groundwater contamination; however, questions remain about the extent, probability, and best mitigation of such risks (Entrekin et al. 2011; Osborn et al. 2011; Rozell and Reaven 2012; Olmstead et al. 2013; Vengosh et al. 2014; Konschnik and Boling 2014; Elliot et al. 2016). Other concerns include multiple and cumulative impacts of industrial development in a watershed , such as habitat fragmentation that results from increased roads and traffic, air quality concerns, and the ecological impacts from hydraulic fracturing -associated seismic events (Rubinstein and Babaie Mahani 2015; Konschnik and Boling 2014; Garvie et al. 2014; Rivard et al. 2012).

In Canada, beyond apprehensions about specific land and water impacts, several Indigenous Nations have voiced significant concerns about the lack of meaningful consultation in their territories – a fiduciary responsibility of the federal government before such activities take place on their land. Many of these voices are coming from those who have faced hydraulic fracturing proposals, exploration, or full development on their traditional territories. For instance, in New Brunswick, proposals for exploration of shale gas resources in 2013 resulted in protests by the Elsipogtog First Nation who asserted that the province had failed to properly consult the Nation (Schwartz and Gollom 2013). In the fall of 2014, the premier imposed a moratorium on hydraulic fracturing and formed a commission that was responsible for determining when and if the conditions to lift the moratorium could be met (Bissett 2015). In British Columbia , the Fort Nelson First Nation filed an appeal with the BC Environmental Appeal Board, challenging the province’s decision to allocate a water license to the Nexen Corporation for the purposes of hydraulic fracturing . The appeal was successful, and in 2015 the Board rejected the license (Environmental Appeal Board, Decision No. 2012-WAT-013(c)), finding that the license was “fundamentally flawed in both concept and operation” and that the company had failed to consult the Nation in good faith (Fort Nelson First Nation 2015).

Taken together, these and other political and legal conflicts illustrate the tensions surrounding the allocation and use of water for hydraulic fracturing in Canada. At the same time, these conflicts reveal systemic “patchwork” problems in municipal, provincial, federal, and Indigenous regimes for water governance .Footnote 1 In fact, we suggest that the rapid expansion of hydraulic fracturing of Canada’s shale gas resources has not caused but rather illuminated the patchiness and inadequacy of many water governance arrangements in Canada.Footnote 2 Moreover, we argue that in this context of contestation and volatility around hydraulic fracturing , Canada is in dire need of creative, flexible, and socially responsive water governance arrangements. We define water governance as: (1) who decides who may use water and for what purposes; (2) what standards must be met during that use to protect ecological, economic, social, and cultural values; and (3) how that decision process is undertaken.

Recently, significant and rapid declines in global markets for natural gas have slowed activity and led to the selling off of assets, including in provinces that had approved developments (International Energy Agency 2015; Apache 2014). Such a moment of relief in industry-driven pressure provides a critical opportunity in Canada to address existing water governance issues, and we focus this chapter specifically on three key challenges and priority areas for governance innovation . First, we illustrate how water governance approaches across the provinces and territories are patchy and fragmented, which leads to a perceived lack of transparency in the system. Second, we explain how capacity across the many actors involved in governing water or using water is not uniform and we reveal how this affects individual and collective abilities to make substantive changes that would improve the various water governance approaches across the country. On this matter, we add that the allocation of water for industrial use is often perceived as government favoring economic interests over all other values, which can lead to a perceived lack of accountability and conflicts of interest by those responsible for governing water use. Third and finally, we elucidate how water governance has failed to adequately include Indigenous peoples vis-à-vis free, prior, and informed consent. Many Indigenous peoples that are Treaty and Aboriginal rights holders have active land-based livelihood practices in regions affected by extractive activities. Thus, there are unique and significant impacts related to water use for hydraulic fracturing that must be resolved through Nation-to-Nation negotiations with Indigenous peoples. Each of these challenges will be explored in detail in the remainder of this chapter as a means to identify priority areas for change and governance innovation .

2 Challenge 1: “Patchy” Approaches to a Sustainable Water-Energy Future

Shale gas deposits exist in several parts of Canada, though the extent and accessibility of these plays vary significantly by region, as do patterns of development (see Fig. 20.1 Shale gas reserves in Canada).

Fig. 20.1
figure 1

Map of unconventional oil and gas plays in Canada (Canadian Water Network 2015, and for illustrative purposes only. Note that tight gas refers to gas found in low permeability sandstone formations, whereas shale gas typically refers to natural gas trapped between layers of shale)

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This variation is based on a number of factors, but settlement patterns and historical land uses play a key role, as do the economic development strategies of each region. In British Columbia and Alberta , for example, which have histories of oil and gas development, provincial governments have encouraged widespread development of shale gas resources through hydraulic fracturing , even as the most comprehensive studies have argued that this type of development outpaces scientific knowledge and effective regulatory structures (e.g. CCA 2014; Rivard et al. 2012; Wiseman 2009). In other jurisdictions, including Quebec, Nova Scotia, and New Brunswick, provincial governments have identified the need for research and public consultation, enacting moratoriums on hydraulic fracturing (e.g. Mauro 2014) . These moratoriums delay development (but not necessarily exploration) and provide an opportunity for research and knowledge exchange across regulatory agencies, industry, Indigenous Nations , non-governmental organizations (NGOs), and the public. At the same time, these moratoriums do not constitute a governance regime within which water-related decision-making can occur on a long-term basis.

In Canada, each region has a vastly different history of resource extraction and energy development, which in turn creates variability in water use for energy. In Quebec, for example, initial producer interest led to a long process of research and public engagement and ultimately, a temporary moratorium on shale gas development in the St. Lawrence lowlands until further studies and consultation with the public and Indigenous nations can be completed (Rivard et al. 2014). But Alberta , the most significant oil and gas producer in the country, has extensive experience with hydraulic fracturing , a technique that has been used on over 180,000 oil and gas wells in the province since the 1950s (Natural Resources Canada 2015). Similarly, development in BC – which has a well-established industry in the Northeast of the province – has advanced quickly and remains a key part of the provincial government’s economic strategy (BC Ministry of Energy and Mines 2012).

Existing evidence from around the world indicates that the amount of water used in different hydraulic fracturing operations varies widely, depending on the operating strategy of the company working on a specific shale play and the characteristics of the play itself (Chen and Carter 2016; Nicot and Scanlon 2012; Rivard et al. 2014). This trend in varying water uses holds true in Canada as well. In Quebec’s Utica shale play, early results showed between 12,000 and 20,000 cubic metres of water needs to be used per well for hydraulic fracturing , an amount considered high relative to other plays in Canada (CCA 2014). But the highest volumes of water are used in the Horn River Basin in BC, where differing accounts have reported such volumes as 34,900 cubic metres (Johnson and Johnson 2012) and ranges of 25,000–75,000 cubic metres (Precht and Dempster 2015). With such differences between companies and between shale plays, it becomes difficult for anyone outside of the relevant government agencies or the industry actors to understand exactly how much water has been allocated and is actively being used for the purpose of hydraulic fracturing .

Water governance , and the allocation of water for hydraulic fracturing activities, also varies dramatically across Canada (see Table 20.1). In general though, provincial governments hold responsibility for water-related decision-making (and, in the case of the Northwest Territories , the territorial government is gaining a greater degree of authority over these governance processes under recent processes of devolution). Companies interested in using water for hydraulic fracturing must apply for a permit or license to the relevant provincial or territorial authorities. As part of the process, federal, provincial and territorial governments have a legal duty to consult and accommodate Indigenous peoples on any decisions that may affect Aboriginal or Treaty rights (Newman 2009).

Table 20.1 Provincial and territorial comparison of the general status of the hydraulic fracturing industry and associated governance frameworks (Moore et al. 2015)
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Beyond these key similarities, provinces and territories have different types of entities and legislation that deal with hydraulic fracturing . In some provinces, such as Ontario, Quebec, New Brunswick, and Nova Scotia, a number of different agencies and authorities shape water-related hydraulic fracturing decisions. But in Alberta and BC, provincial governments have sought to streamline decision-making by creating “single window” regulators that deal with all issues related to oil and gas development, including the allocation of water licenses. The “single window” approach has been criticized due to the potential of the agency’s conflicts of interest (Environmental Law Centre 2012). As one example, the BC Oil and Gas Commission’s (OGC) funding model relies on industry fees, and thus, has been criticized for the limitations this poses to its independence and ability to hold industry accountable (Environmental Law Centre 2012). The Office of the BC Auditor General (2010) has also expressed concern that while the OGC is mandated to foster a healthy environment, no formal province-wide program exists to manage environmental impacts from the development it enables.

Over and above the variations across provinces, dissimilarities also exist within provinces, depending on the relationship among government agencies, specific companies, and communities – Indigenous and non-Indigenous – and the wide continuum of baseline knowledge about the watershed . This means that decisions about whether water will be allocated to hydraulic fracturing , and what type of consultation and/or accommodation may take place, is dependent on the specific regional water manager, the specific Nation, the specific company, along with the specifics of the hydrology and geology of the area. Sometimes there is even patchiness within a single region, or single Treaty area with regards to consultation and accommodations. The challenge is that the differences contribute to a lack of understanding and certainty about what will and what can happen, and a perceived sense that transparency in decision-making is lacking, since it is difficult to identify and understand who is responsible for these decisions in every watershed , or for addressing concerns once they are voiced (see Moore et al. 2015).

While this patchiness is a challenge, to some extent, such an approach to water governance in Canada makes at least some sense, given that there is no “one size fits all” approach, and each community and/or Indigenous Nation, resource patch, and company should be recognized for the different context, culture, and values involved in a particular watershed . But such a solution would require a clear governing strategy around a more “customized” approach, whereby each watershed and actor is treated in recognition of those differences but still with a coordinated, transparent, and accountable customized approach. Instead, the existing differences have emerged in an ad-hoc manner in response to a rapidly developing industry and continue to fall along political boundaries rather than natural or other innovative boundaries. Trying to understand the differences among patches, what that means for water use requirements, which company is operating and where, what their practices involve, and who is allocating water and enforcing standards for the protection of the environment and public health and safety across each of these operations is no simple task – and it is further complicated by the multiple, competing water uses in the same region (e.g. recreation, other industries, agriculture , commercial, etc.). Therefore, we emphasize that “patchiness” itself is not a problem; rather, uncoordinated, and opaque, as opposed to transparent, patchiness creates opportunities for problems to emerge.

3 Challenge 2: Capacity and Accountability Across the Existing Water Governance Systems in Canada

Shale gas development is complex and fast changing in ways that present unique governance challenges for provincial government regulators, who are understood to be largely responsible for water governance in relation to hydraulic fracturing . The water-related risks associated with shale gas development are different – and, some scholars argue, higher – than with conventional gas development (Konschnik and Boling 2014). For instance, the techniques frequently involve greater volumes of water, the use of which creates concerns about water stress (Freyman and Salmon 2013) and the associated seismic activity (Rubinstein and Babaie Mahani 2015). Additionally, different chemicals are used in the fracturing process and their use creates new concerns about risks of leaks, surface management of flowback water, and groundwater contamination the seismic activity the water use and fracturing process induces, and the volumes of water involved (Gregory et al. 2011; Llewellyn et al. 2015; Elliot et al. 2016; Chen and Carter 2016). Hydraulic fracturing is also, per well pad, more intense and expansive than conventional; after 2–3 years, production decreases and new sources of gas need to be exploited in order to maintain supply (Konschnik and Boling 2014). Moreover, technological innovation results in fast-changing extractive practices. Further complicating matters, hydraulic fracturing developments are often spread over large areas of land, through thousands of wells, and therefore, the possible pollution sources (e.g. storage tanks, borrow pits, and pipelines) are numerous (Konschnik and Boling 2014; Willow and Wylie 2014).

The complexity and dynamic nature of unconventional gas development raises significant capacity challenges for nearly every actor involved. With respect to industry, multiple actors may be involved in a single operation (e.g., investors, primary operators, sub-contractors, and consultants). Although these actors will have high levels of technical expertise relevant to their own role, their regional knowledge, their training in social, political, and cultural issues relevant to those regions, attitudes towards environmental protection and health and safety, and their experience with regards to implementing legal duties to consult with Indigenous nations may be lacking (Breiddal 2015; Moore et al. 2015).

For either Indigenous or non-Indigenous communities in regions where shale gas development has proceeded, awareness, training, and the capacity to respond to the demands associated with consultation may be limited. As just one example, in NE British Columbia , hydraulic fracturing activities have been approved by the OGC in Treaty 8 territories. The Fort Nelson First Nation is a signatory of Treaty 8 and the provincial government has a constitutional duty to consult with FNFN over impacts to treaty rights from the development. This duty is implemented through either the consultation process associated with an environmental impact assessment of a proposed development, or through the Oil and Gas Commission’s consultation protocol agreements. In the “boom” period, particularly in 2008–2011, FNFN faced an average of 1000 referrals per year – although, these were not just for water licenses, but also for the development of well pads and all the related infrastructure necessary to support the development. Comment and consultation periods can involve time restrictions, and may range from 5 to 20 days (Breiddal 2015). Very few small to medium communities in Canada, characterized by Statistics Canada as less than 1,000 and up to 99,999 people – rural or urban, Indigenous or non-Indigenous, would be able to meet such intense demands, particularly when knowledge about a new industry is relatively limited.

Capacity challenges also exist within the provincial government agencies trying to ensure each actor is engaging in socially, ecologically, and culturally responsible practices with regards to water use. Specifically, the rapidly developing and changing nature of hydraulic fracturing technology raises questions about whether regulatory agencies have sufficient capacity to (1) understand the complexity of ecosystem functions in the watersheds where developments are proposed or occurring; (2) develop relationships with industry, community, and Indigenous nations based on trust and mutual respect; (3) fully understand the fast-changing operational practices of the industry and how best to regulate those practices; and (4) from there, enforce any regulations that do exist, all while meeting goals of fairness and efficiency , particularly when hydraulic fracturing may be just one of many uses for water in the watershed .

Simply adding capacity, however, will not equate to better governance without other changes to policy and agency function more broadly. Specifically, concerns exist about government partiality and “regulatory capture,” meaning that communities are known to often perceive regulators’ work as that which seeks to ensure regulations favour industry development over any other public interest or value. Other scholars have found that, in some jurisdictions, because politicians and regulators believe that new regulation-related costs might mean that producers move elsewhere, they have allowed industry to heavily influence legislative and regulatory agendas in natural gas producing regions (see Centner and O’Connell 2014 for analysis of this effect in the US; see also Stephenson and Shaw 2013; Allen 2012; Rahm 2011). The consequence of even the appearance of regulatory capture, let alone actual capture, is that governments are perceived as not holding industry accountable for their actions related to water use for hydraulic fracturing , and not upholding environmental protection responsibilities or sufficiently representing the interests and values of the public (Garvie and Shaw 2014).

We emphasize that many provincial initiatives have worked hard to address these concerns. For example, due in large part to the size and age of its industry, Alberta has developed extensive regulatory frameworks to address energy-related water governance , including more stringent regulations around well casings. Also, Alberta recently launched a pilot project to test a “play-based approach” to governing energy-water use, which requires full projects to be assessed, instead of the site-specific and well-by-well approaches that have traditionally been used (Alberta Energy Regulator 2015). In BC, the provincial government launched the NorthEast Water Tool, a new hydrological, GIS -based decision-support tool that proponents and the public may use and that aims to ensure science-informed governmental decision-making about water allocations. In Nova Scotia, the provincial government undertook extensive consultation in 2014 as part of the Nova Scotia Hydraulic Fracturing Review (i.e., the “Wheeler Report” (Government of Nova Scotia 2014)). The report was widely heralded for its fair consideration of Mi’kmaq-specific and public input. Across the board, however, we argue that the concerns about limited capacity and a lack of accountability and impartiality are still front and centre in spite of these initiatives. Thus, simply doing “more” may not be the answer; instead, we need to consider innovative alternative water governance approaches (see for instance, Moore et al. 2014) discussion on water policy innovations ).

4 Challenge 3: Water Governance that Is Inclusive of Indigenous Peoples

The third significant water governance challenge is that of adequately including Indigenous Nations in decision-making, as they hold distinct Treaty and legal status as the original peoples of this land and are uniquely affected by all resource extraction industries on their treatied, unceded, and traditional lands. Some researchers have suggested that Indigenous peoples are “canaries in the coal mine” when it comes to the impacts of resource extraction and environmental degradation (Weaver 2010). Specifically, rural and remote Indigenous communities are particularly vulnerable to environmental impacts, including localized industrial and long-range transport contamination, because many of their members continue to harvest from the land and waters for the purposes of food security, cultural and spiritual revitalization, and social reproduction (Mascarenhas 2012; Turner 2014). In Canada, resource development projects that both fail to fully consult and accommodate Indigenous interests often result in opposition by Indigenous peoples and/or negative impacts on Treaty and Aboriginal rights – resulting in protracted legal suits and substantial delays.

Indigenous Nations in Canada hold a unique position as constitutionally protected rights holders with respect to both Aboriginal identity and Treaties. In any process to develop and implement new governance arrangements, attention to international declarations on Indigenous rights , constitutional and treaty rights , and evolving legal precedents, is needed (Prno and Slocombe 2012). Several scholars of Indigenous governance have noted that land-based practices are critical to maintaining the community-homeland relationship that is fundamental to cultural identity and self-determination (e.g. Alfred and Corntassel 2005; Corntassel 2008). The protection of these practices and connections over the long-term, scholars argue, requires an approach to governance broader than one based on rights alone, as a “rights -based” approach often focuses – too narrowly – on the ability to continue to procure food in a traditional way (Corntassel 2008; Schreiber 2006). Some are suggesting a “responsibility-based” approach may be the way forward, one that recognizes a relational approach to managing our relationships with each other, resources, and systems (Castleden et al. 2015).

The imbalance in authority – where Indigenous authority is generally under-recognized by federal and provincial governments – has been a major ongoing issue in governance related to land and resource governance in Canada (von der Porten and de Löe 2013). Yet, the federal government has a fiduciary responsibility and legal duty to consult and “where appropriate” accommodate Indigenous peoples whose traditionally territories comprise the proposed spaces of industrial development (Natcher 2001; Newman 2009). A number of recent court cases have set out the legal meanings of Aboriginal rights and title and provide substantial guidance regarding the responsibilities of governments in this realm (see CCA 2014; Castleden et al. 2016). Most recently, in June 2014, the Supreme Court of Canada passed down a unanimous decision that “significantly alters the legal landscape in Canada relating to land and resource entitlements and their governance ” when it declared that consent was needed on territories recognized as “owned” by a Nation (Pinder 2014).Footnote 3 There has also been a dramatic shift in the way the federal government is approaching its relationship to Indigenous peoples in Canada. Where the former (Conservative) government took the approach that decisions they took would hold until the Supreme Court of Canada told them otherwise, the current (Liberal) government is taking the approach that such negotiations are between Nations, and that the 2007 United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP) forms the basis of such conversations (Barrera 2015; Smith 2015).

Given these circumstances, the legal and constitutionally guaranteed rights of Indigenous peoples in Canada will inevitably shape water governance for hydraulic fracturing , though in ways that vary greatly by region and in the context of existing historic and modern treaties, land claim agreements, or ongoing claims of Aboriginal title in areas without treaties. In the context of hydraulic fracturing , research has explored instances where governance processes have failed to protect treaty rights but also, more broadly, to meaningfully include Indigenous Nations in decision-making related to water resources in their traditional territories (Garvie and Shaw 2014). In short, the lack of meaningful inclusion in decision-making limits genuine “government-to-government” relationships; the consequence is further discord over final decisions. When a Nation has not been included, and when the provincial or federal governing body does not indicate an understanding that Indigenous rights include more than food procurement for cultural or ceremonial purposes, it becomes difficult to understand how governments can claim that they have appropriately accommodated Treaty rights .

In some regions, hydraulic fracturing has already had an impact on the constitutionally guaranteed treaty rights of Indigenous peoples , a fact that has informed their responses to existing and proposed decision-making processes. Returning to the example of the Fort Nelson First Nation in northeast BC, the Nation has already seen extensive changes in the landscape as a result of shale gas development, changes that have an impact on well established Treaty practices (Garvie et al. 2014). The FNFN’s concern over shale gas governance has often focused on water. For example, when the Nation appealed to the courts over the province’s issuance of a water license in their territory, no government action was taken for over 6 months, during which time the licensee withdrew more than 180,000 cubic metres of water from a lake during a drought (Chapman 2013). While FNFN has filed a successful appeal of the license at the Environmental Review Board and the licensee has since been charged under the Water Act for breaching the license and diverting more water than authorized, it is really a case of “too little, too late”; the water has been used.

In other regions where shale gas development is proposed or nascent, such as on the East coast, concerns from Indigenous Nations regarding the uncertainty of the environmental impacts have driven opposition to hydraulic fracturing . In some jurisdictions Indigenous Nations have meaningful authority to help shape decision-making around hydraulic fracturing . For example, the Kwilmu’kw Maw-klusuaqn Negotiation Office (KMKNO), which is part of the Nova Scotia-based Mi’kmaq Rights Initiative, seeks to “address the historic and current imbalances in the relationship between Mi’kmaq and non-Mi’kmaq people in Nova Scotia” (Mi’kmaq Rights Initiative 2015).Footnote 4

In this case, corporate and government entities in the province must go through a negotiation process with KMKNO and must receive approval from the Assembly of Nova Scotia Mi’kmaq Chiefs before proceeding with development. Among this Assembly there was (as noted earlier in the Chapter) no support for hydraulic fracturing , a position revealed during consultation as part of the Wheeler Report. The Review included a discussion paper that summarized the importance of addressing Aboriginal rights in Nova Scotia, noting that:

The Mi’kmaq people possess robust treaty rights , as well as Aboriginal rights in Nova Scotia. These rights have considerable consequences for provincial deliberations over hydraulic fracturing , as the Province is constitutionally obliged to honour these rights (MacIntosh 2014, p 282).

Despite the legal requirements, public statements about the importance of government-to-government relationships, and the acknowledgement of Indigenous rights in documents such as the Wheeler Report, the actual processes of consultation (or any governance arrangement that is inclusive beyond consultation), or the principle of free, prior and informed consent (as per UNDRIP) remains a key issue in relation to water governance for hydraulic fracturing and elusive in practice (Garvie and Shaw 2014).

5 Conclusions

The rapid expansion of the shale gas industry in Canada, and its consequent demands for water to facilitate hydraulic fracturing , has occurred amongst a patchwork of water governance arrangements. Although efforts have not been made to coordinate water governance approaches to hydraulic fracturing across Canada, efforts to streamline industrial land and water application processes within individual provincial jurisdictions have, in some cases, led to “single window” approaches. In turn, concerns have emerged about regulatory capture and an overemphasis on the economic benefits of energy development above all other social, ecological, and cultural values at the community level. In many cases, capacity within provincial government agencies is perceived as too limited and inexperienced with water use for hydraulic fracturing to govern using leading accountability and transparency practices, while simultaneously building knowledge about the short- and long-term social-ecological impacts of water use for hydraulic fracturing .

Existing conflicts over water use for hydraulic fracturing have exposed the limitations within and across Canada’s water governance patchwork: in some places, water governance arrangements are failing to inspire adequate public trust that development can safely proceed in some places; in others, are failing to adequately protect Aboriginal and treaty rights , and public values. Despite the many differences in how water is governed in different jurisdictions, we have emphasized here three common challenges that must be addressed if water governance is to effectively manage water resources, and thus inspire public trust. First, water governance arrangements must be made more transparent and accountable. Second, their design and implementation must be adequately resourced, to ensure that regulators have the capacity to meet the challenges of regulating the complex, and dynamic industry before further developments proceed, or in the case that decisions are made to lift moratoria. Third, governance arrangements must be restructured to ensure that Indigenous peoples are adequately engaged in, and by, these improved processes and that their rights are protected. Although we have treated the three challenges described in this chapter as separate, they are deeply intertwined. Arguably, all of these governance challenges can and must be tackled together.

Several more problems will result if these challenges are not addressed. That is, if regulators are unable to stay ahead of this fast-moving global industry, policies will become reactionary and lacking in vision, the water cycle will not be governed in a coordinated way, and industrial impacts will be poorly understood and mitigated. A failure of water governance of this kind will have far-reaching impacts not only on Aboriginal rights and all Canadians, but on ecological resilience and public confidence in government. We have already observed the outcomes that follow from problematic and patchy water governance , including active resistance to industrial development. Improved water governance , then again, would provide a key focal point to ensure that decisions about industrial development are grounded in the best available evidence, are responsive to the rights of those affected, and ensure that a broad range of social, ecological, and cultural values are proactively protected.

We recognize that developing and testing new approaches to governance will not be easy – it will require the willingness of all key actors groups involved in, and affected by, water governance to participate, whether improved approaches are related to regulations, transparency mechanisms, or new organizational models and decision-making processes for collaboration. But such steps will be necessary to rebuild trust and to ensure that decision-making is competent and coordinated across Canada’s resource patches.