Workers return to the plant after a news conference at the Pickering Nuclear Generating Station in Pickering, Ont., on Jan. 30.Frank Gunn/The Canadian Press
The eight-reactor Bruce Nuclear Generating Station, on the eastern shore of Lake Huron, ranks among the world’s largest nuclear power plants. With four more in the early planning stages, it might become larger still. But for the Saugeen Ojibway Nation (SON), behind its engineering grandeur lies a painful history – which it has described as one “of exclusion.”
Its people were not consulted before the plant’s construction during the 1970s and 80s, which resulted in quantities of radioactive waste stored within what they regard as their traditional territory. Nor did they see many of the economic benefits that flowed to neighbours.
These unresolved tensions threaten to derail – or at least significantly delay – efforts to find a permanent solution for Canada’s nuclear waste, which dates back to the 1970s. As of June, 2023, Canada had accumulated approximately 3.3 million used fuel bundles that were stored temporarily at operating or retired nuclear power plants in Ontario, Quebec and New Brunswick. But there’s nowhere to send them for permanent disposal – a potential stumbling block as the nuclear industry seeks public acceptance for a proposed major expansion.
The Nuclear Waste Management Organization (NWMO), an industry-controlled organization to which the federal government delegated responsibility for nuclear waste management, wants to select a site this year for a proposed, $26-billion underground nuclear waste disposal facility, known as a deep geological repository. The two remaining candidates are the Municipality of South Bruce (about 45 kilometres southeast of Bruce station, and also within SON’s traditional territory) and a site more than 40 kilometres from Ignace, a town of 1,200 northwest of Thunder Bay.
One of the NWMO’s guiding principles is that the repository’s host “must be informed and willing to accept the project.” Ignace’s council will decide that through a resolution; it has agreed to notify the NWMO of its decision by July 30. (It hired a consultant, With Chela Inc., to engage with residents and maintains its decision will be based on public input.) In South Bruce, citizens will vote in a by-election in late October. Both signed hosting agreements with the NWMO this year, under which South Bruce would receive $418-million over nearly a century and a half; Ignace would get $170-million.
Yet all that might well prove a sideshow. The NWMO also seeks consent from Indigenous peoples: Wabigoon Lake Ojibway Nation, in the case of Ignace. SON, which is composed of the Chippewas of Nawash First Nation and Chippewas of Saugeen First Nation, will decide regarding the South Bruce site. NWMO spokesperson Fred Kuntz said the organization is negotiating hosting agreements with both First Nations.
Success is far from assured.
SON’s grievances with the nuclear industry date back to the 1960s, when Ontario Hydro (the predecessor of Ontario Power Generation) began constructing Canada’s first commercial nuclear power plant. For SON, the commissioning of the Douglas Point Nuclear Generating Station marked the beginning of “the nuclear industrialization” of its territory. Douglas Point was followed by the much-larger Bruce station, built immediately next door.
SON ruefully watched its neighbours benefit as tax revenues rolled into local municipalities, while its members were largely shut out. In 2013 SON secured an undertaking from Ontario Power Generation that the utility wouldn’t establish an intermediate-level waste repository (proposed for construction at Bruce station) on its territory without its consent.
That undertaking had far-reaching consequences. It led to a 2020 plebiscite in which SON’s membership overwhelmingly rejected that repository. And it set an important precedent: In 2016, the NWMO granted SON the same ability to veto the South Bruce repository. SON plans to hold a referendum of its members, once it has received all the information it seeks from the NWMO.
“I’d say we’re at least halfway halfway home to having our questions satisfied,” said Gregory Nadjiwon, chief of the Chippewas of Nawash Unceded First Nation, one of SON’s two member nations.
But reaching an agreement this year – or at all – could prove challenging. The NWMO has accepted responsibility for disposing of all Canadian spent fuel, whether from the Point Lepreau station in New Brunswick, or from long-defunct research reactors at Chalk River, or even wastes from reactors yet to be constructed. SON’s leadership, though, is focused on the wastes in its own territory.
“If the [repository] is going to be in the SON territory, why should we be accepting waste that comes from Pickering, Darlington, Chalk River or Point Lepreau?” Chief Nadjiwon said.
“I mean, that’s ludicrous.”
As part of any agreement with NWMO, SON’s leadership seeks resolution to its long-standing concerns, such as the fact that wastes have been stored in its territory for decades without compensation.
“When I go in my truck to a garage in Toronto, I’m charged a cost” to park it, he said. “It’s no different than when you park waste in an Indigenous territory or homeland. We expect an agreement for the cost of doing business.”
William Leiss, an emeritus professor at Queen’s University’s School of Policy Studies, worked as a paid consultant for the NWMO between 2002 and 2011. He wrote a book, Deep Disposal, about the site selection process; the book is scheduled for publication in September. Prof. Leiss said SON’s opposition is so firm that it’s hard to fathom why South Bruce is still in the running.
“Its negatives are so pronounced that one wonders if it is being kept alive solely as a negotiating card so that Ignace does not regard itself as the only viable option,” he wrote.
“It has all the markings of an elaborate charade.”
But Prof. Leiss said the Ignace site is a long shot, too.
The Wabigoon Lake Ojibway Nation has roughly 1,000 members, 200 of which live on a reserve 20 kilometres from the Ignace area site. Its chief, Clayton Wetelainen, said the community has been negotiating a hosting agreement with the NWMO for roughly eight months.
The community has had far less interaction with the nuclear industry than SON has, so its historical baggage is perhaps lighter. Whereas the Ignace and South Bruce agreements would prevent future councils from backing out of the project, Wabigoon Lake’s leadership does not regard the agreement it’s negotiating as irrevocable – in part because there’s insufficient information available on many aspects of the project.
“The current vote that we’re talking about is just to go down to one site,” Chief Wetelainen said.
“This has to go through regulatory approvals, and our own approval, when we get more information about the detailed site.”
Some, he added, have misconstrued the vote as final and binding, “but that’s not the case.”
Prof. Leiss said even if Wabigoon Lake voted in favour of the project, other First Nations throughout the region might launch lawsuits to block the project. “There’s intense fighting among the First Nations in the Treaty 3 area over this issue,” he said.
Chief Wetelainen said his goal is to set a date in the fall for his 1,000 members to vote. Some community members began informing themselves about the project a decade ago, but others are only now beginning to ask the same questions. Getting all members up to speed is proving a challenge, he said – and as with SON, his community does not regard itself as bound by the NWMO’s timetable.
This position is admired by some of the repository’s non-Indigenous opponents. Bill Noll is vice-president of Protect Our Waterways, an opposition group in South Bruce. He said municipal officials have followed the NWMO’s timeline “blindly,” whereas SON is on its own schedule.
“They have a veto capability for the project, which is really an important dimension,” Mr. Noll said.
Prof. Leiss said Ontario is the only logical province for the repository – that’s where the bulk of Canada’s nuclear waste is already stored temporarily. But it’s home to 133 First Nations, whose often-overlapping traditional territories span nearly the entire province. It’s “entirely possible” that no First Nation will agree to accept a repository, he said.
But there’s another wrinkle: The NWMO’s willingness principle is not a legal requirement. OPG’s earlier proposed repository received regulatory approval of its environmental assessment without one. The NWMO’s promise to First Nations, he said, is “not worth the paper it’s written on.”
Prof. Leiss said the NWMO from the outset should have focused on First Nations, which he regards as the repository’s true hosts.
He wrote: “A sardonic take on this siting strategy might go something like this: entice a municipality with a dream of economic riches beyond its wildest imaginings, give it a phone book and tell it to place some calls to the nearest Indigenous communities, and then hope for the best.”