There are moments when a country should pause and ask itself how it became so strategically inept. The United States deciding it is easier to re-engage Venezuela—manage a political transition, assume geopolitical risk, and ship oil across the ocean by tanker—than to expand pipeline infrastructure from its closest ally should be one of those moments for Canada.
This is not a compliment. It is an indictment.
Canada possesses the world’s third-largest proven oil reserves, a stable democracy, the rule of law, and the United States as its largest and most natural customer. And yet, Canadian heavy crude is at risk of losing market share to a sanctioned petrostate because Canada has made itself incapable of executing large-scale energy infrastructure in a predictable, timely way.
The failure of Keystone XL, it should be remembered, was not solely a Canadian political failure; it was equally derailed by U.S. domestic politics, regulatory reversals, and NGO-funded activist pressure that turned a cross-border infrastructure project into a symbolic battleground.
That is not an environmental triumph. It is a competitiveness failure.
For over a decade, Canada has signaled—explicitly and implicitly—that major energy projects are liabilities rather than assets. Pipelines are treated as moral compromises, not nation-building infrastructure. Regulatory processes stretch indefinitely. Court challenges pile up. Political leaders hedge, delay, and retreat. Capital notices. Markets respond. Allies adapt.
The result is a country rich in resources but poor in execution.
This decline is not a reflection of Canada’s resource base or capabilities—our energy reserves, technical workforce, and environmental performance are world-class—but of a federal policy framework that has made developing them increasingly uncompetitive on a global scale.
Meanwhile, the United States acts in its own interest, as it always does. Gulf Coast refineries are optimized for heavy crude. If Canada cannot increase supply at scale to feed them, Washington will find alternatives. Venezuela, for all its instability, offers something Canada increasingly does not: certainty of access once the political decision is made.
That should be a sobering realization for Ottawa.
To its credit, the new Carney government has at least acknowledged the problem. Its rhetoric around restoring Canadian competitiveness and supporting “strategic energy infrastructure” marks a notable shift from the reflexive hostility of recent years. The language is cautious, carefully balanced against climate commitments, but it is a start. Lip service is better than silence. MOUs are better than the infamous “phase them out” quote from Justin Trudeau in regards to the oilsands.
But Canada no longer has the luxury of symbolic gestures.
Competitiveness is not restored by speeches. It is restored by approvals that survive court challenges, by timelines measured in years rather than decades, and by governments willing to say—clearly—that national infrastructure is in the national interest.
The danger is not that Canada develops too much energy infrastructure. The danger is that it doesn’t develop enough, and wakes up to discover that global capital, global supply chains, and global influence have quietly moved on. Other countries prosper while we thumb our noses at the opportunity.
Energy markets are not sentimental. They do not reward good intentions or process purity. They reward reliability, speed, and scale.
This is not merely about oil and gas. It is about whether Canada can still execute complex, capital-intensive projects at all. If pipelines cannot be built, what about transmission lines, power networks, critical minerals corridors, carbon capture facilities, or LNG export plants? Competitiveness, once lost, rarely returns quickly.
Canada does not need to abandon climate ambition. But it does need to abandon the illusion that ambition alone substitutes for action, or that a strong economy doesn’t matter. The world is doing its best to decarbonize—but it is also re-arming, re-industrializing, and re-securing supply. Countries that cannot build will not lead.
The choice is becoming stark. Canada can continue to be a well-intentioned bystander, watching allies source energy elsewhere and capital flow around it. Or it can decide—urgently—that being competitive still matters.
Because when pipelines are harder than regime change, the problem is not the world.
The problem is us.
The time to change is now.