WATER IS LIFE
What is going on with the water situation in this country? For more than ten years now I’ve been hearing about serious drinking and wastewater issues, most pressingly in relation to remote and First Nations communities.
According to social media, nobody cares about the human rights catastrophe endlessly unfolding in these places. We are educated by our peers and community leaders that no resources have been committed to this systemic problem, no projects are currently underway, no solutions have been put in place or look to be coming, and the situation is only getting worse. I’ve heard and read similar messages elsewhere. Reporting from the University of Calgary, from the Spring of 2021, tells us “the true crisis is much greater than what is conveyed in the media”. And just the other night I was listening to CBC and someone from Iqaluit describing the bleak situation there.
UP NORTH
All of this had me trying to find out more about the situation, starting with Iqaluit. Some critical context: Iqaluit, on Baffin Island, in the far east of Nunavut, is Canada’s smallest capital city. For scale to other northern capitals: Juneau has 32,000, Whitehorse 25,000, and Yellowknife 18,000 while Iqaluit has fewer than 8,000 residents. Aside from being tiny, the capital of Nunavut is also very far north, more than 2,000km almost directly north of Ottawa. That’s pretty far north. In fact, that’s so far north that the Yukon capital of Whitehorse, also very far north, sits almost 600km further south than Iqaluit (or roughly the distance between Montreal and New York; Paris to London is less than 500km.) But Iqaluit is not just small or very far north, it's also extremely remote. Unlike many other remote locales across the globe, this city is in one of the most difficult places to get to, is the only capital in the country not connected by highway to any other settlements, and, of course, sits in a region that’s often challenging to operate within. All of these realities of distance, inaccessibility, harsh climate and weather, and minuscule population pose more than minor logistical hurdles to setting up and maintaining infrastructure of any kind. Obviously.
So then, what is the current water situation in Iqaluit? Since October of 2021 a “do-not-consume” order has been in place, off and on, due to an apparent fuel leak contaminating the city’s water supply. As an immediate temporary fix to the state of emergency there, donations of 137,000 litres of bottled water were flown in along with a team of engineers and a Canadian Forces crew of 35 to operate reverse osmosis units for purifying more than 300,000 litres of local river water. And, though folks have been working on it since then, the problem remains unresolved. The cause was thought to be an old underground fuel tank buried next to the water treatment plant. The tank was removed and cleaning of the area performed but this has not been enough to fully rectify the issue. Testing from the beginning of January yielded trace chemical readings of 50 micrograms of hydrocarbons per litre. While this was low enough not to raise alarm and far lower still from the Canadian safety limit (of 390 micrograms) it has not convinced the community that their troubles are over. The city is now asking for at least $180 million from the feds for a permanent solution. In the meantime an additional team of specialists was dispatched to provide a detailed assessment and to recommend some options.
With such a remote community and tiny population, this response feels to me both substantial and immediate, certainly something other than perfect neglect. The reporting on Iqaluit suggests their circumstance is truly radical, a nearly unbelievable catastrophe and part of an ongoing human rights crisis; but, as a result, I want to compare the situation there to elsewhere in Canada. That seems worth doing, given that people are comparing one of the smallest and most remote communities in the country (and on the planet) to an idealized, theoretical situation in the far south and in or adjacent to a major city.
DOWN SOUTH
Well, as I am all too aware, even within a few kilometres of Vancouver it can be difficult or impossible to access resources. I mean, it’s common to find basic consumer goods deemed undeliverable to the Gulf Islands or even to the provincial capital of Victoria, which is technically on the Trans Canada Highway and with several direct ferries and flights just minutes from other major Canadian and US cities. Even Ikea, the global furniture shipping innovators often refuse to send items to the island for any price.
With regard to the issue of water specifically, on an island such as Salt Spring, with a resident population of 11,000 (50% bigger than Iqaluit and which can double in population in warmer months) located between Vancouver and Victoria, fresh water sources are expensive and highly unreliable. On the island are five water service providers. This means that none have economies of scale to keep costs low for consumers and each system is expensive to maintain all while aging and prone to issues. A quick Google search finds parts of the island under boil-water advisories several times a year, and seemingly every year. More than that, the island is also commonly plagued with water restrictions, limiting use to certain times of day. To add to this, the entire water network is insufficient to provide firefighting services across much of this one small island. Further, because water systems on the island are privately held (and such independence fiercely protected) none has access to provincial or federal infrastructure grants to offset replacement or upgrade expenses. So, they're ineligible and cannot call on Ottawa for a $200 million remedy. As a result, this situation persists.
For further comparison, we could also look to the wastewater infrastructure of the provincial capital of Victoria (with a regional population of 365,000.) Since its inception, the city has had no wastewater treatment of any kind and until just now flushed raw sewage into the surrounding ocean. (Like a century-long gift to ourselves, our neighbours, and all our salty cousins who we love and depend upon.) This was identified as a critical problem more than thirty years ago, particularly for residents of Washington State who live across the water and threatened a tourism boycott back in 1990 if the situation was not sorted out. Still, it was only in 2010 that a public pledge was made to do something about the problem. And still it took another decade along with an investments of $775 million from three levels of government for the district to stop dumping sewage into the sea. (And, naturally, the thing broke down and stopped working the minute it was completed and put to use...)
And as far as drinking water goes, according to regional annual reporting, water quality inquiries and complaints are so abundant and normal that they’re not even spelled out in the reporting. (It only notes that, in terms of type and volume, complaints are “consistent with that of previous years.”) Complaints of discolouration and chemical odours or tastes appear to be persistent – even with reports arriving from Victoria General Hospital. And there have been regular boil-water advisories for parts of the Capital Regional District across the last several years, to say nothing of the rest of Vancouver Island.
Yes, these are not months-long “do-not-consume” orders; however, all of the above highlights that being thousands of kilometres south, or even among a population almost 500 times the size, doesn’t mean you have the kind of water or wastewater infrastructure you may assume everyone else has or feel folks are entitled to as a basic human right. This highlights, further, that when every community in the land has the very best water system available they will still likely experience issues of unwanted odours, discolouration, and contamination resulting in advisories and service stoppages we all feel are unreasonable. None of this is acceptable but simply where we are at.
FIRST NATIONS
So, what then does the water crisis look like for First Nations communities who've faced the worst long-term water-related problems? According to federal documents and national reporting, the 2016 budget allocated $1.83 billion to improve water and wastewater infrastructure on First Nations reserves. The following year another $49 million was committed to providing access to safe drinking water. Budget 2018 included an additional $172 million to support improved water infrastructure, operator training, and First Nations-led technical service delivery models. In 2019, to support existing water and wastewater system infrastructure, another $133 million was committed. Then 2020’s Fall Economic Statement committed further investments of $830 million to support water and wastewater infrastructure on reserves.
What, then, has that funding done for people? As far as I can tell, since 2015 all of the above has resulted in the undertaking of 751 water and wastewater-related infrastructure projects. 408 of those have been completed since then and 343 are ongoing. This has meant that 126 long-term drinking water advisories have been lifted in just the last few years – though 37 advisories within 29 communities remain today. This is far too many, and these problems have gone on far too long, but the situation in these 29 communities does not appear to be representative of the 634 First Nations communities across Canada. To be clear, as of January 2022 the government of Canada reports that 77% of all long-term drinking water advisories have been lifted. Of those remaining 23%, 8% have a completed project and an advisory lift pending while 13% have projects currently underway. Of the remaining 2%, half are in the design phase and the other half are undergoing critical feasibility studies.
Beyond all of this, and overdue as it is, courts have recently approved an $8 billion settlement to continue bringing water to First Nations and compensate communities and individual members who’ve been forced to live under boil-water advisories. In addition, the 2021 federal budget has allocated another $18 billion to “improve quality of life and create new opportunities for people living in Indigenous communities.”
All of the above is not nothing. From what I've read, this seems closer to real movement than the absence of any awareness, care, commitment, resources, or effort. It looks to me, particularly in context, like a situation very far from the “nothing” or “systemic neglect” we love spreading across social and national media. But I could be wrong.
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RESOURCES
May 2021 – "Tip of the iceberg: The true state of drinking water advisories in First Nations"
Oct 2021 – "Fuel confirmed in Iqaluit’s water supply"
Nov 2021 – "Iqaluit water emergency enters second month"
Jan 2022 – "‘Nobody knows for sure’ how Iqaluit’s water became recontaminated, says Patterson"
Jan 2022 – "Ending long-term drinking water advisories"
Dec 2021 – "Feds must set aside $8 billion for First Nation water infrastructure, settlements: courts"
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