Lost in translation

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By Anne Harding

It was 2007 and I was less than a year into my first role in Aboriginal Affairs at Petro-Canada. Our Manager at the time, John, had recognized that at the age of 50 he was the youngest person in the department, so brought on two bright eyed and bushy tailed new recruits to shape, train, and mould in our approach to Indigenous relations. I thought I had won the lottery. My first six months were entirely focused on hanging out with community and corporate elders, asking questions and soaking up their knowledge and wisdom.

Then that winter, I got my “big break” and had the distinct privilege of becoming the “community liaison” for a drilling project in a place I had never before heard of:  Déline, NWT (a mere 1600 km and three airplanes from my home in Calgary, AB). That winter, I fell in love with Canada’s North. The jagged rocks of the Canadian Shield in Yellowknife followed by the vast expanse of the open northern tundra was exotic and beautiful, though it was the people that truly captured my heart. The openness and kindness and joy for life that I was met with was contagious, and I felt I could breathe more deeply up there.

I so wanted to do right by the community of Déline. And I wanted to do right by Petro-Canada. As the company representative who was “on the ground” and in the community, it was my job to translate the interests of the people in the towers and the interests of the people on the land. Before my time with the project, the company had spent a couple of years building strong relationships with community members, which resulted in an Access and Benefits Agreement that clearly spelled out expectations for both community and company related to the project. At least, everyone thought they were spelled out clearly.

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What I learned that winter has shaped my personal, academic, and professional life. It turned out that even though the Agreement negotiations had happened in good faith and with the best of intentions by all parties, the expectations were not clear on either side of the 60th parallel.

When the company had talked about “making best efforts to include Indigenous businesses in the project” so the community could benefit from the economic activity, the company thought that meant that if there was an Indigenous-owned business or joint venture that was qualified to do the work and reasonably competitive on price, that business would get enough extra points in the procurement process to win the contract. 

The community, however, had a different interpretation of what “making best efforts” looked like in real life. The fact was that at the time of the Agreement being signed there were very few local Indigenous businesses that could do the work that the project needed. So the community expected that Petro-Canada, which had said in good faith that it wanted the community to benefit from the economic activity of the project, would put some effort in up front to support the community in building businesses or partnerships so that they could be involved.

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What resulted from these mis-matched expectations didn’t make headlines. There were no protests or rallies against the project or against Petro-Canada. The results were simply disappointment from a community who thought they had done all the right things. They had ensured that the Agreement included environmental protections for the land they hold dear, while getting excited about the new relationship with industry that came with the promise of economic activity and capacity building for the remote community. And without the revenues associated with an active well (the project resulted in what was affectionately called a “money injection well”), there was little more to be done except scratch our heads and wish things could have felt different.

When I think about the term economic reconciliation, I think about my time in Délline. What would have happened if both parties had advocated for intentional Indigenous economic inclusion, rather than just “best efforts”? What conversations might have emerged if the good faith negotiations included not just good intentions but also a discussion about specific actions that could be taken and measured? What innovative business models and new partnerships might have been formed that would outlast the six month drilling project, leading to lasting community prosperity?

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It’s been over a decade since my time in Déline, and progress toward greater Indigenous economic inclusion is being made. Many companies in Canada are responding to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s Call to Action #92, which calls on all of Corporate Canada to look at the ways in which they might repair, strengthen and advance relationships with Indigenous people and communities across the country through the lens of the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples. And there are also many companies who still believe that they do not have a role to play in economic reconciliation. To everyone working in the private sector across this nation, I hope that the next time you have an opportunity to affect the economic participation of others in your organization, you’ll ask yourself if and how Indigenous businesses might be involved, and take action to turn those “best efforts” into true economic reconciliation.