5   Towards Sustainable Resource Management

Peace Energy Co-operative (PEC) was incorporated as a co-operative in Dawson Creek, BC, in 2003. The organization’s strategic objectives include: educating the community about renewable energy, facilitating the development of renewable resources, creating local development opportunities and economic self-sufficiency (PEC 2014). PEC was a driving force behind BC’s first utility-scale wind installation, the Bear Mountain wind farm. This 102 megawatt (MW) project, a joint venture between Aeolus Power (Sidney, BC) and AltaGas (Calgary, Alberta), consists of thirty-four 3 MW turbines situated along the length of an eight-kilometre bluff overlooking Dawson Creek. Bear Mountain started producing electricity in late 2009, providing enough energy to power most of the South Peace region of British Columbia. The electricity is sold to BC Hydro through a twenty-five-year electricity purchase agreement with the utility.

The Bear Mountain wind project is an example of a social economy actor playing a key role in developing local support for a project and acting as a spokesperson for local interests. Initially, co-op members explored a small locally owned turbine project but ruled it out because they wanted to fully utilize the potential of the wind on a local ridge. The PEC formed a partnership with Aeolus Power, who then partnered with AltaGas to develop the project. The co-operative and Aeolus received a finder’s fee for the site and their work. They also followed through on a negotiated option to buy a share in the revenue stream by raising $300,000 from their members. A confidentiality clause with AltaGas prevents the co-op from disclosing what the actual share is, but these funds guarantee the co-op a share for the life of the project and are helping PEC to become self-sustaining (MacArthur 2016).

The co-operative’s role in developing the project began with securing an investigative use permit (IUP) for the Crown land on which the wind farm sits, allowing them to access the land for data gathering and testing. The wind resource was originally being monitored by BC Hydro for development. However, the Province’s 2002 Energy Plan required the utility to cede new renewable development to the private sector. Once the land became available for private development, it attracted interest from international companies keen to move into the newly opened and relatively lucrative independent power producer (IPP) sector in the province. The 378-member co-operative set a $200 investment share in the wind project. It took the initiative to get a wind project developed on the site, with as much local participation as possible. As Steve Rison, a former director of the co-op, explained in an interview, a number of companies had also expressed interest in developing the site, and the idea of a partnership held appeal: “We thought, there’s no way we’re going to be able to raise enough locally to get into the big wind business, so we need a development partner with more expertise and access to bigger pockets. So we put together kind of a call for proposals and targeted some development companies.”9

Other benefits, beyond direct investment returns for members, arose from the wind farm project. The co-op worked with the project developers to maintain hiking trails near the site and to use local labour whenever possible. According to Rison, “We pushed very hard that, when the contracts were awarded from construction and equipment hauling, we’d have local businesses participate so we could generate as much economic spinoff as possible.” Yet another benefit of the Bear Mountain project for the co-operative was experience. As Rison put it, the experience “made us more confident to develop other projects, renewable energy, not necessarily wind. That capacity building is a good feature of local involvement.” PEC is now looking into other projects, such as Centennial Green, a distributed heating and energy project in Dawson Creek. In 2012, the co-operative moved into the retail of small wind turbines and signed a memorandum of understanding with the local college (Northern Lights) to work on education, training, and renewable projects together. In 2013, PEC also completed its first solar installation on the Peace Co-operative building in Dawson Creek.

Another partnership, this one involving a First Nation, is in the approval process for a wind farm project on BC’s coast. The NaiKun Wind Energy Group has proposed to build Canada’s first (and the world’s largest) offshore wind farm in the Hecate Strait between Haida Gwaii and Prince Rupert, with 110 turbines and a 39 MW installed capacity. Like the Bear Mountain project, NaiKun is a partnership; in this case, however, one of the partners is the Haida Nation rather than a small energy co-operative. The First Nation has (in principle, since it has yet to be built) a much stronger share in the project than does the co-operative in the Bear Mountain wind farm. Like the PEC, the Haida Nation is interested in both diversifying its power resources and promoting local economic development. While the NaiKun project did not receive an electricity purchase agreement from BC Hydro in 2010, they did succeed in getting provincial and federal environmental assessment approvals in 2009 and 2011, respectively. At the time of writing, the project is still awaiting BC Hydro’s next Clean Power Call Request for Proposals to move forward with the project.

In terms of sustainability and social economy, there are both significant benefits and serious drawbacks to the proposed NaiKun development. Haida Gwaii is the largest geographical portion of British Columbia that is not connected to the electrical grid, meaning that the island’s power comes primarily from diesel generation. (Epcor runs a small microhydro facility.) The project proponent, Vancouver-based NaiKun Energy, had originally planned the project to connect to the BC transmission system (bypassing Haida Gwaii) to sell wind-generated power to BC Hydro and to California. However, local opposition, based largely on the potential impacts of such a large offshore development on local wildlife and fisheries, has led to a reformulation of the project, with the Haida Nation as a development partner. The project has not yet been approved, nor has all local opposition been eliminated (more on that below).

The most recent proposal for the partnership structure involves two companies, one for generation and one for operation. The Haida Nation would own 50 percent of the operating company, have no liability, constitute 50 percent of the board, receive 50 percent of the revenues, and increase local employment without any up-front financial investments. The proposed structure for the generation company is that the Haida would have the option to buy in up to 40 percent, Calgary-based Enmax would be a potential partner up to 50 percent, and NaiKun would own the other 10 percent. This level of First Nations involvement in such a large wind farm is unprecedented in Canada.10 However, in December 2011, members of the Haida Nation voted overwhelmingly (73 percent) against investing the required $265 million in the generation project (NaiKun Wind Energy Group 2011).

The reasons for this local opposition are myriad and complex. Opposition was particularly strong in Old Masset, as compared to Skidegate. Some nearby First Nations (including the Gitxaala) view new renewable-power developments as part of a resource-based “green grab” and associate such projects with the encroachment of oil and gas interests, including the highly controversial Enbridge pipeline. Accordingly, “renewable energy development is understood as yet another development endeavor in the region, rather than as a distinctly different renewable energy project” (Rodman 2013, 5). Another issue underlying local opposition was the fact that the NaiKun project was not originally developed by and for the community. Engagement with the Haida Nation and neighbouring affected groups began only after the business decisions had been made by investors and energy developers in large urban centres (Krupa, Galbraith, and Burch 2013). Given the problematic history of industry–First Nations partnerships in Canada, the intent, clarity, and sequencing of project phases needs to be carefully considered for proposed projects to be successful. According to Joel Krupa and colleagues (2013, 14), “the adoption of a transmission link to address the ‘diesel problem’ came too late in the process and the proposal was not perceived as genuine. Indeed, the transmission link was never fully guaranteed to be part of the project, and mistrust had been generated and was never fully addressed.” The authors point out that without deeper and much earlier collaborative planning, these energy projects may actually lead to deeper divisions within communities.

Despite different levels of support among communities, one researcher pointed out that the discussions and debates generated by the project seem to have stimulated local knowledge and awareness of energy issues. This is especially important since replacing diesel generators can have a significant environmental impact.11 One such initiative involves the development of a new organization, the Haida Power Authority, which was set up to review energy permitting and to develop a local process for issuing investigative use permits. The NaiKun project has also led to deeper engagement with strategic land-use planning and to an ongoing discussion over diesel generation in Haida Gwaii. Despite these gains, challenges abound and “easy wins” are elusive.

The electricity sector in Alberta is structured very differently from that in British Columbia, providing both opportunities and challenges for social economy actors. While in BC the system is structured around a vertically integrated (generation, transmission, and distribution) public utility, BC Hydro, the Alberta electricity system is characterized by private utilities trading power at market rates. Extensive deregulation and political aversion to public ownership has made Alberta’s power system unique in Canada. A lack of public provision has led, for example, to the development of extensive networks of distribution co-operatives in the province, notably in electricity and natural gas. These co-operatives emerged because the distribution of these goods to sparsely populated areas was not lucrative for private companies, and the Province was unwilling to engage in public service provision. As a result, social economy actors in Alberta’s electricity sector may have a role to play in sustainability insofar as they have institutional links, infrastructure, policy experience, and, in some cases, the desire to move toward new green developments.

Alberta has the largest network of electricity distribution co-operatives in Canada and the largest network of natural gas distribution co-operatives in the world. There were approximately fifty co-operative rural electrification associations (REAs) in the province in 2010. These fall under two types: self-operating associations and associations that own the lines but contract their maintenance and operation to either ATCO or FortisAlberta, the two main investor-owned utilities in Alberta. Members of an REA work together on a volunteer board to oversee the co-operative’s distribution lines. These lines electrified rural Alberta at a time when the province’s farmers were lagging far behind their counterparts in other parts of the country (Dolphin and Dolphin 1993). REAs often work in close partnership, via long-term contracts, with ATCO and Fortis. A co-operative’s assets consist of the distribution lines, which are worth millions of dollars. In recent years, REA co-ops have experienced pressure to demutualize (change their legal form to that of a joint stock company) as a result of pressure from larger private utilities to buy the lines, the increased complexities of operating in a restructured power market, and a membership based in aging and shrinking rural communities.12 Without active local member involvement and effective public education about the co-op model, it seems likely that these organizations will shrink in terms of membership and assets. The primary driver of these pressures is rural devitalization, wherein human and financial resources move away from rural communities and into cities. In this context, the long-term benefits of investment in infrastructure is outweighed by an attractive influx of immediate cash.

The self-operating co-operatives, currently involved only in distribution, could conceivably move into generation at some point, but one major barrier to this is finding the initial capital. Indeed, community-based power generation in Alberta does not seem likely without the creation of supportive government policies, as is happening in Ontario and Québec. However, there are other ways in which already established REAs could contribute to building a more sustainable power grid in Alberta. In 2013, the largest REA, Central Alberta Rural Electrification Association (CAREA) merged with South Alta REA into EQUS, the largest member owned (co-operative) utility in Canada with 11,500 members stretching from Barrhead to the US Border (EQUS 2013). Prior to the merger, CAREA initiated a green-tags initiative that allowed member-owners, for a supplementary fee, to purchase renewable electricity in the form of renewable energy credits. For twenty dollars a month, members can purchase 1 MW of renewable energy that is “physically metered and verified in Alberta” (CAREA 2010). EQUS continues to provide members with basic information on REC purchases as well as information on micro-generation (EQUS 2015). Members thus encourage wind development in the province by paying more for a green power source than the market price for conventional power. This creates a market for green power that increases the financial viability of renewable energy projects.

Another recent community-based power initiative is Alberta’s Spark Energy Co-operative. Started in 2010, this co-operative, which is not part of an REA, is a power retailer in Alberta’s electricity marketplace. According to the organization’s website, members buy shares and purchase their power through the co-op, which then uses the funds to buy wind, solar, and biomass electricity from the Alberta power pool. Renewable-energy certificate systems like this are plentiful in Alberta. There is no reason why other social economy groups or co-operatives with a retail arm could not join in this market. The self-operating co-operatives in the province have the added organizational advantage of recirculating profits back to members. Unlike other power retailers, the co-operative is not incentivized to increase power consumed, only to provide for the power needs of its membership (whatever those may be) in an effective way. As a result, co-operative power retailers are less likely to oppose demand-side management initiatives.

Social economy partnerships in the electricity sector also occur between indigenous communities, municipal utilities and private corporations. Projects on Piikani Nation land in southern Alberta, illustrate a variety of possible partnership projects. The Piikani Nation owns Piikani Resource Development Ltd (PRDL). PRDL projects as of 2015 include a partnership with EPCOR on a Weather Dancer wind turbine, a 25% interest in the Oldman River Hydro-electric plant (with ATCO), a small solar energy project PRDL buildings. It also negotiated an option for a 51% equity share in a recent AltaLink transmission line running through Piikani land (PRDL 2015).

The first of these energy projects was the Weather Dancer turbine, 900 kW turbine project near Pincher Creek installed in 2001. It was the first Canadian project to generate renewable electricity on First Nations land. The Piikani Nation is situated in an extremely turbine-dense part of the province. As one participant at a community-power forum held in Red Deer in 2010 put it, “When you’re driving through our reserve, all we see are those big 240 kV towers. You used to be able to see the mountains, and now there is only wind turbines.” Piikani Indian Utilities Corporation partnered with EPCOR in the 1990s, when windfarms in Canada were in their infancy. EPCOR had already developed wind farms in British Columbia and Ontario. The wind resource is strong, so many other wind parks are projected to develop in the area over the coming years.

However, the Weather Dancer project also illustrates some of the contentiousness within communities over the nature and scale of development. Like the NaiKun wind farm proposed in British Columbia, the Weather Dancer turbine project on Piikani land was controversial. Some community members did not feel adequately consulted, drawing a distinction between the participation of powerful and/or confident members of a community versus wide-ranging buy-in and participation.13 At the Community Renewables forum in Red Deer in 2010, attendees from the Piikani Nation emphasized the importance of avoiding the creation of a tiered system within the community. The project partner, EPCOR (the generation arm of which is now private Capital Power Corporation), has increased its ownership share in the turbine, and in 2010, technical issues with its operation reduced project income.14 In November 2014 the Weather Dancer turbine began generating power again, after a $400,000 investment to refurbish the machine (Stoesser 2014).

A number of other changes have taken place, with accompanying challenges, in the thirteen years since the turbine was installed, the most prominent being the long-standing legal disputes between different organizations in the First Nation that are involved in developing energy projects. In 2012 and 2013, the Piikani Investment and Piikani Energy corporations were declared insolvent (Ruling ABQB 719; Grant Thornton Alger 2014). At issue were a number of loans made in the development of the Oldman River Dam from Piikani Investment out of a larger trust for the community. The current PDCL is the result of the restructuring and reorganization following these issues with the earlier investment arrangements.

The Weather Dancer project is a noteworthy example of social economy power. In Alberta, a number of First Nations own their own electricity distribution networks (through REAs); this community ownership provides an opportunity on which to build, as well as local institutional capacity in electricity distribution. In addition, First Nations developments are exempt from some of the regulatory hurdles that face other communities, since they fall under federal jurisdiction. Given the long history of Aboriginal communities being patronized rather than involved as active participants in energy project decision-making, these locally led projects are important. Both the Weather Dancer experience and the Piikani’s ownership of their REA have led to a body of experience in developing, negotiating, and assessing projects. A number of resources are specifically available to First Nations that may provide a supportive framework for this type of development (Canada 2004; Windfall Ecology Centre, n.d.). But the Weather Dancer project also highlights some of the important challenges related to financial success, consultation, and community buy-in. Moreover, initial successes—for example, constructing a project and bringing it to the point of generation—are but one part of a much longer organizational journey that brings with it a range of new challenges and conflicts.

Social economy initiatives in forestry, like those in water management and fisheries, have the potential to make a significant contribution to rural revitalization and the provision of basic services. In the forestry sector, supportive public policies and partnerships with private actors have been critical to the creation and success of new community initiatives.

In British Columbia, 56 community forests (CFs) account for 2 percent of the annual harvest (BCCFA 2015). This development is due to provincial policies in 1998 and 2003 aimed at addressing critiques of forestry management and devolving some responsibility for the sector to local groups (Ambus and Hoberg 2011). A recent report by the BC Community Forest Association points out that these groups create, on average, 50% more positions than the industry average, local accountability, and more than half are either owned by First Nations wholly or in partnership (BCCFA 2015b 3–4).

One of the earliest and largest CF is the Revelstoke Community Forest Corporation (RCFC), which is more than two decades old. Actions by the provincial government to deny the sale of cutting rights to outside firms—on the basis that the local benefits were a precondition for development—were instrumental in the creation of the RCFA (Weir and Pearce 1995). Other important policy drivers included the provincial government reducing the permitted area of a privately owned tree farm licence (TFL 23) and decreasing the cutting rights of federated co-operatives because of inadequate levels of local processing (Weir and Pearce 1995).

Since 1993, RCFC has managed 120,000 hectares of forest in British Columbia Confronted in the 1980s and 1990s with rural devitalization through sawmill closures, members of the local community mobilized in order to ensure that more of the resource was used in a way that benefited them (RCFC 2009). They began the RCFC project in partnership with three local sawmills: Downie Timber, Joe Kozek Sawmills, and Cascade Cedar. The RCFC now owns tree farm licence 56 and operates a log-sorting yard, which allows the community to benefit from the profits of timber sales and to control forest practices for local benefit, both economic and environmental. The focus of the community forest project is to ensure that timber harvested in the area is processed locally and that the tree farms are managed in a way that ensures steady and sustainable supply and maximizes tourism and recreational use. According to the mayor of Revelstoke:

Prior to RCFC, we were a net exporter of raw logs and the vast majority of processing was done in other communities. We have seen a complete turnaround in that regard in that a major percentage of our logs are processed locally or traded for logs to be processed locally. This has been accomplished partly because of the creation of RCFC but also through more localised ownership of Downie Sawmill, one of our industry partners. (RCFC 2009)

The community forest association has had successes such as keeping local logging and processing going and using wood waste to power municipal buildings, but there have also been challenges. The RCFC experienced losses from 2004–2009, mainly because of extremely poor conditions in the BC forestry sector. According to the 2008–9 annual report, these losses netted out at just $181,000 (RCFC 2009, 4). This was due to a number of factors, which included the crash of US housing markets, the mountain pine beetle infestation, and the focus on exports of raw logs (rather than local processing), these figures are consistent with overall sectoral trends. By 2011–2012, however, the tides have turned slightly and the RCFC made a profit of $75,000 (RCFC 2013, 3). During these years the RCFC also provided a loan to expand the Revelstoke Community Energy Corporation (district heating system) in 2010, which is owned by the city and Downie sawmills. This recirculation of assets and support for local initiatives is one of the clear assets of community-owned resource management.

In 2015 proposals by the province and BC Timber Sales to expand timber harvesting around Revelstoke have raised local opposition, due to conflicts with recreational use of nearby Mount Macpherson. While no solution has been found at the time of writing, one suggestion considered was to have the RCFC take over the area. This is likely due to the focused goal of the RCFC on facilitating both economic development and recreational use in the region. (Cooper 2015, RCFC 2015b)

The enthusiasm for social economy projects such as those described above is due to a variety of factors. Some initiatives were undertaken because state and corporate actors were not moving quickly enough toward renewable energy development or were failing to develop useful (but currently unprofitable) resources, as in the case of the community forests. The REAs were created not because of a desire for renewables but out of a need for basic service provision of rural electricity. And the impetus for most of the wind energy projects came from public policies that opened the power sector to private actors, prompting communities to try to secure some small share.

Examining resource projects that participate in the social economy provides important insights regarding both the sectors in which they operate and their contribution to eco-social sustainability. Four contributions stand out from those projects described in this chapter. First, it is important to obtain local control of resources so that their development can be used to meet local needs. While local ownership by no means guarantees sustainability, connections between resource owners/managers and stakeholders in affected communities can enhance the mechanisms for sustainable management (Ostrom 1990). Second, social economy actors play an important role in “modelling the possible” by using and promoting new technologies, management methods, and/or institutional forms. Third, social economy initiatives in energy and resource management can play a key role in combatting NIMBYism by engaging community members and giving them a stake in resource projects. Finally, these initiatives, whether successful or not, contribute to developing more informed, aware, and mobilized constituencies. I move now to a discussion of each of these four key insights.

In nearly all the social economy projects described in this chapter, local employment and access to the resource were key goals, and securing both of these was a major contribution of the organizations involved. A critical first step was obtaining the rights to access and develop the resource by, for example, acquiring investigative use permits for wind farms or licences for tree farms. Economic and social benefits for the local community, including employment, meant that those paying the costs in terms of local taxes and land and resource use had an interest in seeing a project succeed.

The local spinoffs of resource development varied according to form of ownership. In co-operative models, profits were used either to distribute surplus back to members or to reinvest in other projects undertaken by the co-operative, creating a pool of capital in the community that was very useful for a variety of local development purposes. One US study that compared the economic multiplier from local (not necessarily co-operative) versus non-local ownership of wind-power generation found a significant difference between the two, with significantly more dollars staying in the local community and the state in the case of local ownership (see table 5.1). So not only does a social economy approach to resource development enhance local employment and rural development directly (as with the case of the REAs in Alberta), but the benefits of such development filters through other parts of the community; such bonuses include revenue from municipal taxes, an increase in service industries and, in the case of forestry, opportunities for value-added processing.

Furthermore, not only the presence but the degree of community ownership matters, particularly for the environmental outcome of the project. In the Bear Mountain project, for example, PEC’s control over the use and management of the resource evaporated after the initial stage of negotiating the transfer of the investigative use permit: the private developer now controls the resource (electricity) and its management, leaving little, if any, room for changing patterns of resource use down the road.

Resource projects in British Columbia and Alberta that are rooted in the social economy demonstrate the sheer range and variety of economic sectors in which local actors can participate and the different structures that such projects can use, whether co-operative, non-profit, or municipally led. Working alternative models such as these demonstrate that “another world is possible,” the mantra of the World Social Forum. In these two provinces alone, social economy and community actors are managing their own local forests, water, and electric utilities, with projects ranging from the very small (biodiesel distribution) to the very large and technologically complex (rural electric utilities powering thousands of homes). They also range from distribution through to generation processing and retailing of everything from conventional oil to solar panels, wood waste, and biodiesel. Having an assortment of institutional, technological, and resource-based models to draw from can strengthen sustainable transitions in several ways. Such models offer a starting point from which to strengthen subsequent developments and identify best practices and key challenges. Another contribution is in negotiating proposals for change with more conventional actors: governments and corporations. Being able to point to other jurisdictions where innovative social economy projects have achieved success strengthens the case for viable and desirable alternatives.

The real question, of course, is whether social economy projects in the resource sector are actually much different, in terms of social and environmental sustainability, from a typical shareholder-owned development. The answer is complex and depends on the type of project, the social economy actors involved, the arrangement of control between project partners, and the degree of support from public policy. There is certainly evidence from research on electricity distribution co-operatives in Alberta that these actors are less likely to focus on increasing sales for profitability because their goal is to meet member needs rather than create them (MacArthur 2016). In the case of wind generation, while the projects built by communities may look similar in terms of the technology used, they tend to be smaller, have more local siting input, and involve a greater circulation of profits than other firms (BCCFA 2015b, Galuzzo 2005). More study is needed to understand how wind-power projects in British Columbia and Alberta compare to similar projects in other regions.

In many social economy projects, whether local or not, the profit motive is either absent or not central to the organizational mandate. While conventional corporate actors are sometimes small and local, the different treatment of profit makes social economy initiatives structurally distinct. Moreover, as illustrated by most of the cases discussed in this chapter, a single project, even an unprofitable or unsuccessful one, can spur new ideas and initiatives.

Social economy resource management can also play a role in deepening sustainability through combating NIMBYism, the not-in-my-backyard attitude frequently used to disguise opposition as qualified acceptance. Public backlash against environmental reform is one problematic consequence of divorcing environmental sustainability policies from the economic realities of a given population.

Gordon Walker and colleagues (2007) argue that the initial “dash for wind” that occurred in the UK caused a significant local backlash. Despite general public support for renewables, lack of substantive involvement of the local community in such projects can lead to project opposition. Similar challenges have occurred in British Columbia, where carbon tax, which is seen by many environmentalists as a vital element in greening the power sector, is extremely unpopular. In Chetwynd, vigorous community opposition delayed the proposed Dokie wind farm, owned by Plutonic Power and General Electric Financial Services, although it was eventually completed November 2010. By comparison, the local approval processes for the Bear Mountain project, in which the Peace Energy Co-operative partnered with Aeolus and AltaGas, were much smoother. Steve Rison, a former PEC director, attributes the difference to direct community involvement rather than ad-hoc consultation.

Some nuance around treatment of the role of community in overcoming NIMBYism is clearly required, given the NaiKun and Piikani examples discussed in this chapter. Barry, Ellis and Robinson (2008) explore the role of community opposition in the lack of wide-scale renewable energy development with particular attention to the rhetorical constructions surrounding the concept of NIMBYism. They found that while an element of climate change denial existed in some local opposition movements, community opposition was largely based on a strong suspicion of the mechanisms through which renewable sources are being developed. Some opponents, for example, were concerned that utility companies are making money at the community’s, and the public’s, expense. Others had little trust in government, regulatory processes, and wind farm developers: “Those presenting the anti-wind energy position are keen not to be regarded as motivated by self-interest, but are skeptical of ‘non-local forces’ (state and business) coming in and trying to pull the wool over their eyes with what they see as ‘PR stunts’ portrayed as consultations” (82). These arguments, based on a case of opposition to a proposed offshore wind farm in Northern Ireland, suggest that overcoming opposition to wind development is not just a matter of providing more information to a misguided or misinformed populace but of ensuring deeper and more democratic engagement with the local community regarding new project development.

The fourth potential contribution of social economy actors to sustainability is in aiding in the development of local capacity and movements. Through the process of initiating and running a project, and sometimes even through failing to achieve project goals, local social economy actors in resource sectors have developed expertise and deepened awareness of key issues facing British Columbians and Albertans. In the Haida Nation’s NaiKun project, this means engagement with electricity permitting and sustainable resource planning; in the Bear Mountain case, the PEC now has a continuous revenue stream as well as experience in project development and in provincial policy related to the power sector. This experience and expertise is being shared through the development of networks. Links with provincial agencies have resulted from community groups starting to take control—to differing degrees—of local resources, and umbrella groups have formed, such as the BC Community Forest Association, through which different forest-based actors across the province are sharing best practices and tools to help each other survive in difficult times in that sector. This kind of networking is invaluable.

These diverse forms of capacity development have implications for long-term socio-economic change. Community-based resource management has succeeded in jurisdictions through both bottom-up and top-down processes. In places like Denmark, Germany, and Ontario, community mobilization has played a key role in creating policy changes and in developing networks and constituencies to move forward once financing is in place. This contribution from community groups is critical, not only for policy change but also for demonstrating the feasibility of community projects and engaging the broader (sometimes skeptical) public. This educational and mobilizing role can be undertaken by non-profit co-ops, community associations, or successful for-profit projects.

Public policy supports have been crucial to the success of social economy projects in British Columbia and Alberta, either through funding supports or through regulatory changes that allow actors access to key sectors. Certainly, policy supports have created enabling financial conditions and a stable framework for the development of wind projects. These policy innovations have included, for example, grant programs for community development and feed-in tariffs targeted at local and community actors (providing a set rate for power with profitability built in); in some cases, such supports have given community actors the first access to resource development projects. These policies are crucial because the introduction of expensive new technologies, together with the deep pockets of other private sector competitors, makes resource sectors prohibitively costly for social economy actors.

At the heart of the challenges to a deep and sustainable social economy lies our current system of economic governance and the public policies and institutions that support it. Economic policy in Canada, particularly in resource sectors, is directed toward extraction for sale in continental and global markets rather than toward local sufficiency. This means that local social economy initiatives are swimming against a very powerful tide. Indeed, at the same time as fossil fuel extraction and processing is playing a large role in western Canadian provincial economies, the federal government is cutting funding to environmental initiatives: cuts of $1.6 billion, according to one estimate, including 1,211 jobs lost and $222 million cut from Environment Canada (Council of Canadians 2011). These cuts to environmental management are part of a broad program of neoliberal austerity sweeping across both developed and developing nations. As public agencies shrink, communities are likely to face increasing challenges, without correspondingly devolved funds, power, or technical assistance.

The shift to marketization (rather than public ownership)—popular with provincial governments in British Columbia and Alberta, as well as with the current federal government in Ottawa—does not provide a level playing field for community-based actors. Social economy actors face more difficulty with respect to financing and institutional capacity in dealing with complex regulatory bureaucracies, and they are far less likely to be able to survive long contract negotiations and delays. The bigger the project and the more complex the industry (e.g., electricity), the greater the challenges, presenting immense barriers to scaling up the social economy in the resource sectors. While part of the promise of social economy initiatives is in developing alternatives despite the activities of governments or large for-profit corporations, these larger trends toward marketization and government austerity mean that competition over control and use of forestry, fisheries, and energy resources will be fierce. The increase of community forest associations has shown that when an industry is in decline and cannot sustain high rates of profit, opportunities open up for social economy actors to act as a stopgap for rural decline. If and when this profitability crunch turns around, so do the fortunes of the local forestry groups, which come under pressure to sell out. That is why REAs in Alberta are currently under intense pressure to sell their infrastructure to private firms: the power sector is, once you get in, intensely profitable (MacArthur 2016). Hence, profitability has a contradictory effect: it strengthens the social economy potential while at the same time increasing pressures for demutualization, for skilled workers to be cherry-picked by competitors, and for complacency and member disengagement.

Social economy actors also face formidable barriers to getting projects initiated, from site access, to regulatory approval, to the most pernicious challenge in the post-2008 economy—financing. Without prior project development experience, or deep pockets, or lots of time and energy, or all of the above, securing loans can present an insurmountable hurdle. Social economy actors rarely have any of these advantages, working, as they do, with member financing, government grants, and a significant amount of “sweat equity.” This means that partnering on a project with a larger entity, either a municipality (as was the case with Canada’s first urban co-operative wind turbine, WindShare, in Toronto) or a private developer (as with Bear Mountain or NaiKun). Depending on actor partnerships, however, may significantly water down the strength of the social economy and sustainability benefits of the project, both in terms of control and the local multiplier.

But partnership also has clear benefits: most significantly, it helps a community group manage risk, raise capital, and learn from the institutional expertise of its partner. Linking with an established organization makes for a much more appealing proposal for creditors. One benefit of the municipal partnership route is that the project can be scaled up beyond what the local community could accomplish on its own, while public control is retained. The community groups that partner in large projects secure a number of benefits, one being a share in a fairly lucrative revenue stream. However, the specific shape and form of agreements and the prevalence of models in which partnerships are necessary rather than optional are problematic for scaling up the social economy to the capacity needed for a deep transition to sustainability. The power of the community actor in the negotiations over the shape of the partnership is crucial and depends on factors such as the level of community cohesion, local control over land use (e.g., whether the land is provincially leased, municipal, or private), and the level of local awareness about the potential value of the resource. In short, a mobilized, aware community with control of the land has an excellent negotiating position for extracting maximum project control and local benefit.

A final set of challenges relates to the disingenuous use of both social economy and sustainability projects as legitimating tools for initiatives that contribute to strengthening neither. Such projects can actually hamper movement toward stronger versions of social economy and sustainability insofar as the legitimacy of the concepts is eroded by their misuse. It is politically useful and profitable today to frame an initiative as green in order to garner public support. Likewise, involving and consulting community groups lends an air of legitimacy to a project. The result of false framing and ineffective community consultation leads to a system that is neither equitable nor environmental. Walker et al. (2007, 78) caution that “perhaps the critical judgment here is the extent to which the ‘shallow’ use of the term community, to include essentially technical projects with minimal local collective involvement or benefit, is corrosive of deeper principles of socialized, locally-led and owned distributed generation.” They also point out that based on UK evidence, some of these projects “have done little to pursue or realize any form of participation, empowerment or wider civic outcome” (77).

The development of renewable electricity can come with corresponding negative environmental impacts when power is developed for international trade rather than for efficient use and reduced demand. Social economy developers thus need to be cognizant of these larger issues. In the case of BC’s run-of-river power development, communities were enabled, as independent power producers, to build generation at the same time as Bill 30 withdrew planning power for development sites from local and “community” levels (WCEL 2009). Furthermore, a challenge that social scientists and philosophers have been wrestling with for centuries plagues new “green” projects: the definition of community. Do five local landowners who wish to begin a project constitute “community”?

Future research on social economy potential needs to examine the practices of both community ownership and broader development oversight in energy and resource management. Ultimately, contemporary forms of greenwash that generate temporary affluence in particular communities as part of a new business opportunity but do not address root causes of instability, environmental degradation, and exploitation at the broader level are problematic.