When Confederation Feels Like Confrontation: Ontario and Quebec’s Alberta Dilemma

As I write in my Ottawa living room, and although my sympathies stretch eastward into Quebec and the Martimes, I am watching Alberta events on the evening news as if viewing a distant cousin gone rogue. From here, in Central Canada, we’ve built our identity on a tapestry of industrial dynamism, social progressiveness, and an uneasy, yet genuine, devotion to national unity. So when Alberta thunders about “owning” its oil sands, rails under federal pipeline delays, and threatens separatism with a bravado more suited to Texas than to the spirit of Confederation, it feels less like a debate among equals, and more like a family spat escalating into road rage.

The Great Divide
Central Canada’s frustration begins with a simple question: Why can’t Alberta appreciate that its prosperity rides on Canada’s backbone? We know well the clang of steel from Lake Ontario factories, the laboratories of McGill and U of T, the commuter trains of the GTA carrying workers into offices that fuel innovation, culture, and trade. We see our tax dollars flow westward into infrastructure grants and environmental clean‑ups, yet all we hear back is how Ottawa is strangling Alberta’s lifeblood. In boardrooms and bistros alike, we exchange incredulous glances. “Is that really how they see us?”

In Ontario’s legislature or Quebec City’s cafés, the lament is the same. Alberta’s insistence on unfettered resource development, against carbon pricing, against pipeline regulations, against the minimal environmental guardrails that we accept as part of modern governance, strikes us as not only shortsighted, but tone‑deaf. After all, we’re the ones negotiating trade deals abroad, keeping Canada’s credit rating intact, and answering to the world for our climate commitments. When Alberta rips up its federal‑provincial agreements, and paints itself as a victim, it risks making the rest of us look like oppressors.

When Conservatives Moved the Needle
It wasn’t a personal chemistry with any one leader that mattered so much as policy alignment. Under Conservative governments, particularly during the years following 2006, Ottawa embraced free‑market principles that resonated deeply in Alberta: lower corporate taxes, streamlined approvals, and a lighter regulatory touch on energy projects. This wasn’t about nostalgia for a single prime minister, but about a political philosophy that saw energy as an engine of growth, not a problem to be managed.

From Alberta’s perspective, deregulated markets and balanced budgets felt like recognition of its core economic values. In Central Canada, we may have questioned some of those choices, but we accepted that a spectrum of economic approaches made Canada stronger. The result was a pragmatic détente: pipelines moved forward, investment flowed, and while we debated environmental trade‑offs, there was at least mutual respect for each region’s priorities.

When Regionalism Becomes Roadblock
Today, the rhetoric out west often sounds like, “Build the pipeline, or we’ll build our own exit ramp.” Yet Central Canada knows unequivocally that there is no exit ramp. Our factories, hospitals, and schools depend on the interprovincial movement of people, goods, and capital. The same pipelines Alberta demands are the conduits that keep our cars running, and our manufacturing humming. When Alberta complains that Ottawa’s carbon tax is an “Ottawa cash grab,” it ignores that those funds have helped pay for the recent transit expansions in Edmonton and Calgary, along with the wastewater infrastructure upgrades in Lethbridge.

Even more galling is the separatist thunder: poll after poll invites alarm with one in three Albertans saying they might consider leaving Canada under a Liberal government, feels like a hostage‑negotiation tactic, rather than a legitimate policy platform. Central Canada hears the echoes of Texas secession talk, fireworks and flags, bravado and bluster, but we see the policy vacuum behind the spectacle. We wonder: can they name a single agreement on the global stage that would willingly recognize a 4.4 million‑person “Republic of Alberta”? Or do they really believe they can simply flip a switch and declare independence?

Progressive Values Under Siege
For all our differences, Central Canada prides itself on progressive values: public healthcare that is universal, environmental targets that align with global science, and social policies that aim to reduce inequality. We do not see these as luxuries, but as imperatives for a 21st century nation. So when Alberta snarls at any shift toward renewable energy or regulatory tightening, we perceive a rejection, not only of policy, but of shared national values. It’s as if Alberta believes that “progressive” is a dirty word, an urban‑elitist dictate, rather than a democratic choice.

The result is a mutual distrust. We view Alberta as obstinate, and uncooperative; they view us as meddlesome and judgmental. And somewhere in the commotion, Canada the country begins to feel less like “one nation” and more like warring fiefdoms.

Pathways to Reconciliation
Even as Central Canadians exhale in frustration, we still cling to the idea that this can be repaired. We remember that the Constitution, our shared contract, grants Alberta ownership of its resources (Section 92A), but also vests Ottawa with authority over interprovincial trade, environmental standards, and national unity. Those overlapping jurisdictions are not battlegrounds to be won; they are negotiation tables to be inhabited with respect.

Here’s what we in the centre would propose:
1. Joint Stewardship Councils
Permanent federal‑provincial bodies—one on energy and one on climate—co‑chaired by ministers from Ottawa and Edmonton, with rotating seats for other provinces. Their mandate: to align pipelines, carbon policy, and regional development in a single coherent plan.
2. Mutual Accountability Reporting
Instead of one‑way complaints, require quarterly reports on how federal actions affect provincial economies and vice versa, published publicly so Albertans and Ontarians alike can see the trade‑offs.
3. Shared Diversification Funds
A federally matched investment fund for Alberta to channel resource revenues into hydrogen, critical minerals, and technology hubs—mirroring grants Ontario and Quebec receive for their own diversification.
4. Cultural Exchange Programs
Scholarships and internships pairing Alberta students with agencies in Ottawa, and Central Canadians with energy‑sector positions in Calgary and Fort McMurray, because trust grows when people move across the lines, not when walls go up.

Towards a True Confederation
As I look east from Ontario or west from Quebec, I still see Alberta as part of Canada’s grand promise, a province of immense resources, entrepreneurial spirit, and resilient people. But a promise requires reciprocity. If Alberta wants the benefits of the Canadian federation, it must share responsibility for national projects, ideals, and compromises. And if Central Canada wants Alberta to feel at home in Confederation, we must speak not with condescension, but with open hands and honest trade‑offs.

In the end, Texas doesn’t have to be our model, and neither does Paris or Beijing. We can be distinctly Canadian: united not in uniformity, but in a federalism that accepts our regional flavors and binds them together in mutual respect. Only then will Alberta’s roar feel like a proud Canadian voice, rather than an echo of someone shouting from outside our walls.

A Dangerous Symbol: Why Alberta’s Citizenship Marker Is a Badge of Exclusion

A government that tattoos its citizens with a loyalty stamp is not protecting democracy. It is manufacturing division.

Alberta’s plan to add a visible Canadian citizenship marker to driver’s licences and provincial photo IDs is sold as a pragmatic fix for administrative headaches, and a modest boost to election integrity. In reality it is a blunt instrument that will stigmatize newcomers, invite profiling, escalate privacy risks, and do virtually nothing to solve the narrow problems the government points to. This policy is not about efficiency. It is about visibility, and visibility in this case is a tool for exclusion.

Start with the claim that this will protect elections. The province has pointed to a handful of isolated incidents to justify a universal treatment of every person who carries a licence in Alberta. The scale does not remotely justify the sweep. Elections Alberta has not identified a systemic problem that requires permanently marking who is a citizen on the everyday card that everyone carries. There are far less intrusive ways to strengthen the integrity of the ballot than turning driver’s licences into a public ledger of status. If the problem is rare, the solution should be targeted, not universal.

Now consider the everyday, lived consequences of adding a visible citizenship marker. A small tag on a card is not a neutral bureaucratic convenience. It is a social signal that will be read within seconds by a wide range of people who exercise power over daily life: police officers, service providers, employers, landlords, front-line staff in health clinics and banks. The absence of that tag is, in practice, the same as a visible mark. When a human scans an ID and sees no “CAN” or similar symbol, they will know the person is likely not a citizen. That knowledge will change behavior.

The harm here is predictable. Racialized and immigrant communities will carry this burden disproportionately. Citizenship status correlates strongly with place of birth, language, and race. Policies that place a visible marker on status therefore do discrimination by another name. The Alberta Human Rights Act protects characteristics such as race, colour, ancestry and place of origin. A policy that has the predictable effect of singling out people because of those characteristics should be treated with deep suspicion. The government’s design converts private legal status into a public marker that will be used, intentionally or not, to exclude, interrogate and penalize.

Privacy is another casualty. Adding more personal data to a card that lives in pockets and purses increases the risk of misuse and error. The same announcement that proposed the citizenship marker also proposed including health numbers on the same cards. Those are sensitive identifiers. Combining multiple markers and numbers into a single, widely used document creates a tempting target for fraud and function creep. Once institutions are accustomed to seeing citizenship on an ID, the line between appropriate use and mission creep becomes dangerously thin. History shows that extra data on everyday documents rarely stays limited to the original, narrow purpose.

There is also the basic problem of accuracy. Mistakes happen. Bureaucratic records are imperfect. Imagine being wrongly marked, or left unmarked, and then facing a delay in accessing health care, government supports, or a job because an overworked clerk or a skeptical stranger read your card and assumed something about your rights. Fixing those mistakes takes time, money and dignity that many people cannot spare. That risk is not hypothetical. Governments themselves admit to data mismatches and unexplained records when they discuss the systems they use. We should not make people pay for a government’s sloppy data by making their legal status visible on a daily basis.

Finally, consider the chilling effect. Communities that feel targeted withdraw. They stop reporting crime. They stop seeking services. They withdraw from civic life. That is a perverse outcome for a democratic society. If the government’s aim is social cohesion and civic participation, stamping people’s IDs with a citizenship marker pushes in precisely the opposite direction.

There are sensible alternatives that protect both security and dignity. Back-end verification systems allow agencies to check status when the law requires it without turning every encounter into a status interrogation. Voluntary proof-of-citizenship cards could be issued for the small number of people who want a single card for passport office interactions or specific benefits applications. Strengthening poll-worker training and refining procedures at the point of service can shore up election integrity without branding the population. A proper privacy impact assessment and an independent human-rights review should be prerequisites for any change that touches identity.

This is not merely a policy error. It is a marker of values. Do we want a province that solves narrow administrative problems by creating new, visible categories that will be used to sort people? Or do we want a province that insists on privacy, on minimizing state visibility into people’s legal status, and on solving problems with proportionate measures?

If Alberta proceeds, expect legal pushback. Policies with predictable discriminatory effects should, and will, be challenged. Human-rights law recognizes that discrimination can occur through effects rather than explicit language. A seemingly neutral policy that disproportionately burdens persons who belong to protected groups will not withstand careful legal scrutiny.

The loudest argument for the citizenship marker is convenience. Convenience is not a trump card when human dignity hangs in the balance. We can tidy up administrative processes without creating a social scoring system that singles people out in grocery stores, hospitals, and bus stations. We can secure ballots without making identity a visible badge of belonging.

The test for public policy is simple. Does it solve the problem at hand with the least intrusion necessary? Adding citizenship to everyone’s everyday ID fails that test. It substitutes spectacle for problem solving, visibility for nuance, and bluntness for proportionality.

Alberta should drop this plan, sit down with civil-society groups, privacy experts and human-rights lawyers, and design targeted, less intrusive solutions. Failing that, opponents should prepare for court, for public protest and for relentless political pressure. Democracies survive on inclusion, not on visible lists of who belongs. If we care about the health of our civic life we should resist anything that turns identity into a signal for exclusion.

Sources: 
Global News, “Alberta adding proof of Canadian citizenship to provincial driver’s licences”, Jack Farrell and Lisa Johnson, Sept 15, 2025.
CityNews Edmonton, “Immigration lawyer, critics raise concerns about citizenship marker on Alberta ID”, Sept 16, 2025.
Statement from Premier Danielle Smith, official announcement posts, Sept 2025.
Institute for Canadian Citizenship commentary, reaction coverage, Sept 2025.
Alberta Human Rights Act commentary and analysis, relevant legal background.

By-Elections Signal Alberta’s Political Crossroads

The results of Alberta’s three provincial by-elections on June 23, 2025, offer more than simple electoral bookkeeping, they reflect shifting political winds across urban and rural divides, growing challenges for the governing United Conservative Party (UCP), and the solidifying leadership of Alberta NDP Leader Naheed Nenshi. While each race had its own dynamics, taken together, they sketch the early contours of the province’s next political chapter.

In Edmonton-StrathconaNaheed Nenshi secured a commanding victory, winning approximately 82% of the vote. This was no surprise, Strathcona has long been an NDP stronghold, but the size of the margin reaffirmed Nenshi’s appeal among urban progressives. More importantly, it granted the former Calgary mayor a seat in the legislature, allowing him to move from campaign trail rhetoric to legislative combat. For the NDP, this is a strategic milestone. Having a leader with Nenshi’s profile and cross-city recognition seated in the Assembly provides the party with both visibility and gravitas as it prepares to challenge Danielle Smith’s UCP in the next general election.

Meanwhile, Edmonton-Ellerslie delivered a more muted result for the NDP. While Gurtej Singh Brar held the seat for the party, the margin narrowed noticeably compared to previous elections. The UCP candidate, Naresh Bhardwaj, ran a stronger-than-expected campaign, capturing a significant share of the vote. This tightening suggests that even in NDP-leaning urban ridings, voter allegiance cannot be taken for granted. It also indicates that the UCP’s message still resonates with parts of the city’s electorate, particularly among working-class and immigrant communities whose support is increasingly contested territory.

The race in Olds-Didsbury-Three Hills played out very differently. As expected, the UCP retained this rural seat, with Tara Sawyer taking over from long-time MLA Nathan Cooper. However, the UCP’s vote share dropped markedly from the 75% it earned in the 2023 general election to around 61%. More striking was the performance of the Republican Party of Alberta (RPA), whose candidate Cameron Davies captured nearly 20% of the vote. The NDP surprisingly edged out the RPA for second place, though rural Alberta remains largely out of reach for them. The RPA’s strong showing, however, is cause for concern within the UCP’s rural flank. Separatist and hard-right discontent, once marginal, is becoming a disruptive force capable of peeling away conservative votes.

Together, these results underline a growing polarization in Alberta politics. The urban-rural split is hardening, with Edmonton increasingly dominated by the NDP and rural ridings remaining UCP strongholds, though now with visible fractures. The UCP retains power, but the by-elections exposed soft spots, especially in its ability to hold urban constituencies and suppress internal dissent from the right. Nenshi’s formal arrival in the legislature sets the stage for a more dynamic opposition, with a leader who brings both charisma and executive experience. His challenge now will be expanding the NDP’s base beyond its urban comfort zone while navigating the complex economic and cultural anxieties shaping Alberta’s electorate.

The by-elections may not have changed the balance of power in the legislature, but they altered the strategic terrain. What was once a contest between entrenched camps now feels more fluid, volatile, and competitive. That should make both major parties pause, and prepare.

Sources
CTV News Edmonton: https://www.ctvnews.ca/edmonton/article/alberta-ndp-leader-nenshi-wins-seat-in-one-of-three-byelections
The Albertan: https://www.thealbertan.com/olds-news/tara-sawyer-wins-olds-didsbury-three-hills-byelection-10853458
The Hub: https://thehub.ca/2025/06/24/a-win-a-warning-and-a-wobble-in-albertas-byelection-results

Albertans Choose Stability Over Separation: What the Pension Rejection Really Means

When the Alberta government finally released the long-awaited results of a commissioned survey on the Alberta Pension Plan (APP), the findings spoke volumes. Nearly two-thirds of Albertans (63%), rejected the idea of replacing the Canada Pension Plan with a provincial version. The number supporting an APP? Just 10%. That’s not just a policy rejection; it’s a political reality check.

For all the heated rhetoric around Alberta’s place in Confederation, this result reinforces what many longtime observers have suspected: Albertans may be frustrated, but they’re not fools. They know a good thing when they see it, and the CPP, with its portability, investment scale, and intergenerational reliability, is exactly that. The pensions issue cuts across partisan lines and ideological bluster. It’s not about Trudeau or equalization. It’s about people’s futures, and the people have spoken.

What’s more striking is how this undercuts the oxygen feeding Alberta separatism. The idea of a provincial pension plan was floated not just as fiscal policy, but as a marker of provincial autonomy, even sovereignty. It was pitched as a way to “keep Alberta’s money in Alberta.” Yet, when the chips were down, Albertans didn’t bite. The same population that occasionally flirts with separation talk has no appetite for tearing up foundational institutions like the CPP.

Even Premier Danielle Smith, no stranger to courting Alberta-first narratives, quickly distanced herself from the APP following the release of the data. There’s no referendum planned, no legislative push, just a quiet shelving of an unpopular idea. It’s a clear sign that even among the UCP leadership, there’s recognition that the political capital required to pursue this agenda simply doesn’t exist.

The APP result also aligns with a broader trend we’re seeing in regional sentiment polling. Despite pockets of separatist energy, especially in reaction to federal climate policy, most Albertans prefer reform within Canada to rupture. A recent Angus Reid survey found that only 19% of Albertans would “definitely” vote to leave Canada, while three-quarters believed a referendum would fail. The rhetoric is louder than the resolve.

This doesn’t mean western alienation is a myth. Far from it. Economic frustrations, federal-provincial disputes, and the sense of being politically outvoted still resonate deeply in Alberta. But the reaction isn’t revolution, it’s recalibration. What Albertans appear to want is a stronger voice in a better Canada, not a lonely march toward the exits.

There’s a deeper lesson here, too. Identity politics and economic nationalism may be good for stirring the base, but when policies collide with kitchen-table concerns, like pensions, voters choose the pragmatic over the symbolic. Separatism, in Alberta’s case, has become less of a movement and more of a mood. And moods change when the numbers hit home.

At its core, the rejection of the APP is a reaffirmation of Canadian federalism. Not the perfect, polished version dreamed of in civics classes, but the messy, functional, deeply embedded version that shows up in every paycheque and retirement plan. That version still has teeth. And Albertans, whatever else they may say about Ottawa, just voted to keep it.

Alberta, the Treaties, and the Illusion of Secession

It is a curious feature of Canadian political discourse that every few years, the spectre of Alberta separatism re-emerges, driven largely by feelings of Western alienation or perceived federal overreach. Yet few of its proponents seem to understand the constitutional, historical, and moral terrain on which they stake their claims.

Most glaringly, the notion that Alberta could legally or legitimately secede from Canada ignores the foundational reality that this province exists entirely upon Indigenous treaty land: Treaties 6, 7, and 8, signed decades before Alberta was even established.

Treaty Obligations: The Legal Bedrock
Treaties 6 (1876), 7 (1877), and 8 (1899) are not quaint relics of the colonial past. These were solemn nation-to-nation agreements made between the British Crown and various Indigenous nations; primarily Cree, Dene, Blackfoot, Saulteaux, Nakota, and others. The Crown, not the provinces, is the party to these treaties. This distinction matters enormously: Alberta, created in 1905, was superimposed upon lands already bound by legal and moral obligations that persist to this day.

Treaty nations agreed to share the land, not to surrender it to a future province. Indigenous consent was given to the Crown, not to the provincial governments that came later. As such, Alberta’s claims to land, resources, and governance are valid only to the extent that they flow through the Crown’s treaty responsibilities, not through any inherent sovereignty.

The Supreme Court Speaks: Secession Is Not a Unilateral Act
This legal landscape was sharply clarified in the Supreme Court of Canada’s landmark Reference re Secession of Quebec (1998). The Court ruled decisively that no province has a unilateral right to secede. Any attempt at secession would require negotiations with the federal government and with other provinces and, crucially, with Indigenous peoples.

The Court emphasized that Indigenous peoples have rights protected under Section 35 of the Constitution Act, 1982, and that their consent is a necessary component of any major constitutional change. As the ruling states:

“The continued existence of Aboriginal peoples, as well as their historical occupancy and participation in the development of Canada, forms an integral part of our constitutional fabric.” (Secession Reference, [1998] 2 S.C.R. 217)

This is not simply a legal technicality. It is a reaffirmation of the reality that Canada is a nation founded not just through British and French settler traditions, but through treaties with Indigenous peoples, treaties that are still very much alive in constitutional law.

Indigenous Sovereignty and the Fallacy of Secession
The idea that Alberta could leave Canada while continuing to govern Indigenous treaty land is untenable. Indigenous peoples were never consulted in the creation of Alberta, and any attempt by the province to secede would, by necessity, face resistance from Indigenous governments asserting their own sovereignty.

During the Quebec referendum in 1995, the Cree and other First Nations asserted that they would remain in Canada regardless of Quebec’s decision. They argued, correctly, that their treaty relationships were with the Crown, not the province of Quebec. The same principle applies here: Treaty First Nations in Alberta are under no obligation to follow a secessionist provincial government. In fact, they would have a powerful legal and moral claim to reject it.

Furthermore, the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP), which Canada has committed to implement, recognizes the inherent right of Indigenous peoples to self-determination. Any secession that disregards that right would contravene both domestic and international law.

No Secession Without Consent
In short, Alberta cannot separate from Canada without first navigating the constitutional reality of treaties, Indigenous sovereignty, and the Supreme Court’s own binding interpretation of secession. The land on which Alberta stands is not Alberta’s to take into independence. It is treaty land, Indigenous land, shared under solemn agreement with the Crown.

Alberta exists because those treaties allowed Canada to exist in the West. To attempt secession without Indigenous consent is to ignore the very foundations of the province itself.

If separatist advocates wish to have a serious conversation about Alberta’s future, they must first understand its past, and the enduring obligations it entails.

Sources:
Supreme Court of Canada. Reference re Secession of Quebec, [1998] 2 S.C.R. 217
Constitution Act, 1982, Section 35
United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP), 2007
Indigenous and Northern Affairs Canada. “Treaties 6, 7, and 8.”
Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples, Volume 1 (1996)
Borrows, John. Recovering Canada: The Resurgence of Indigenous Law (2002)

Cameron Davies and the Rise of Alberta’s Republican Right: An American Echo in Western Canada

The emergence of the Republican Party of Alberta (RPA) on the political stage is more than just another footnote in the long tale of Western alienation, it’s a calculated, ideologically driven attempt to redefine Alberta’s place not just within Canada, but in the broader North American political culture. At its centre stands Cameron Davies, a seasoned conservative strategist whose own political evolution mirrors the rightward lurch of the party he now leads.

The RPA was officially registered with Elections Alberta in January 2024, marking the latest effort to unite various hard-right and sovereigntist factions that have cycled through Alberta politics over the past decade. It inherited the legacy of groups like the Wildrose Independence Party and Wexit Alberta, which had captured the imagination of disillusioned voters but failed to sustain momentum. The new branding, “Republican” in name and nature, signals a stark ideological shift. It’s not just about independence anymore; it’s about importing the ethos of American-style conservatism, down to the MAGA-hued slogans and policy choices.

When Cameron Davies was acclaimed as leader in April 2025, the party’s intentions crystallized. Davies, a former backroom operator for the Wildrose and United Conservative Party (UCP), is best known for his role in the controversial “kamikaze” campaign during the 2017 UCP leadership race. That episode, which sought to undermine Brian Jean in favour of Jason Kenney, resulted in Davies being fined $15,000 for obstructing an election investigation. Though bruised by scandal, he remained a prominent figure in conservative circles until he publicly resigned from the UCP in 2025, accusing it of corruption, entitlement, and ideological betrayal.

His resignation letter read like a manifesto, a rejection of institutional politics in favour of what he described as grassroots conservatism, though critics might call it a hard-right insurgency. Davies’ departure was both strategic and symbolic. He positioned himself as the torchbearer of the “real right” in Alberta, unencumbered by the compromises of power that had come to define Danielle Smith’s increasingly centrist UCP government.

Under Davies’ leadership, the RPA has embraced a platform that reads like it was drafted in a red-state Republican think tank. There’s the call for a binding referendum on Alberta independence, followed by a non-binding vote on joining the United States. There’s strong rhetoric about parental rightsreligious freedom, and gun ownership, coupled with opposition to “woke” policies like diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) programs. Carbon taxes, public healthcare, federal immigration policies—these are all painted as signs of moral and fiscal decline, to be swept away by a new order rooted in faith, family, and “freedom.”

If this sounds familiar, it’s because it is. Davies has openly fashioned himself in the mold of American populist leaders. His social media presence references his military background (“Marine”), his patriotism, and his adherence to traditional values. He speaks of Canada, especially under Liberal governments, in the kind of dire terms more commonly heard on Fox News than in Canadian legislatures. For Davies, Ottawa is not just a political rival; it is a moral adversary, and Alberta must be rescued from its grasp.

There is no hard evidence yet of direct ties between Davies and the machinery of the American right, no funding pipelines, no visits to CPAC (yet), no endorsements from U.S. figures. But the ideological alignment is unmistakable. The RPA’s aesthetics, policy priorities, and culture-war messaging are all deeply influenced by the Make America Great Again (MAGA) movement. It is a party that sees itself less as a provincial player and more as a cultural movement, seeking to spark a broader populist awakening.

Davies’ recent moves show that this isn’t just rhetorical posturing. In May 2025, the RPA signed a Memorandum of Understanding with The Independence Party of Alberta, forming a loose coalition aimed at consolidating the separatist vote. The message is clear: there is no room anymore for fragmented protest parties. To mount a serious challenge to the UCP and, by extension, the federal order, the independence movement must speak with one voice, and Davies intends to be that voice.

The question now is whether the Republican Party of Alberta will become a formidable political force, or simply another flare in Alberta’s long-burning bonfire of right-wing discontent. The UCP has already learned, painfully, what happens when the right fractures. The Wildrose-PC split in the early 2010s handed the NDP a surprise victory in 2015. That memory is still fresh, and it was precisely what motivated the formation of the UCP as a big-tent conservative party in 2017.

Yet that tent is fraying. Many rural voters feel the UCP has compromised too much on issues like education, healthcare privatization, and provincial sovereignty. The RPA, with its unapologetically radical platform, offers them an alternative, a place where the message isn’t diluted by political pragmatism. Davies has a keen understanding of this tension, and he’s betting that enough Albertans are tired of half-measures and ready to blow the whole system up.

But winning a few headlines and gaining traction in the echo chamber of social media is one thing; winning seats is another. The RPA currently has no MLAs. Its organizational infrastructure is limited. Unless a high-profile defection occurs or it pulls off an upset in a by-election, the party remains on the fringe. Moreover, its overtly American positioning, especially the proposal to join the U.S., may strike even sympathetic voters as unserious or dangerously naive.

Canadians, after all, are not Americans. While cultural conservatism resonates in parts of Alberta, many still value universal healthcare, peacekeeping diplomacy, and the Charter of Rights and Freedoms. The RPA’s invocation of U.S.-style populism could ultimately alienate more voters than it attracts, especially if it becomes associated with the chaos and polarization of American politics.

Still, it would be unwise to dismiss Cameron Davies and the RPA out of hand. They are tapping into something very real: a deep and growing disillusionment with traditional politics, a sense of cultural siege, and a yearning for bold, even revolutionary change. Whether that can be translated into electoral success remains uncertain, but the message is loud and clear: the populist right in Alberta is no longer content to sit on the sidelines. And under Davies’ leadership, it’s ready to speak with an American accent.

About Alberta: A Personal Perspective on Culture, Conversation, and Contribution

After more than 25 years as a business consultant, I’ve been fortunate to work across continents, meeting people, solving problems, and learning from cultures far from home. Yet, one of the most eye-opening cultural journeys I’ve taken has been much closer to home, right here in Canada.

In the early 2000s, I married a university professor from Alberta. With that union came a second family: ranchers, farmers, nurses, and small business owners from the Prairies. They welcomed me warmly, and over time, I found myself immersed in a culture both deeply Canadian and distinctly Albertan. What I discovered challenged assumptions I didn’t even know I had, and continues to shape how I think about communication, leadership, and nation-building.

Alberta isn’t just a place. It’s a way of being.

Like all Canadian regions, Alberta’s culture is shaped by its geography, economy, and history, but what stands out most is its ethos: plain speaking, hard work, and a fierce belief in self-reliance. This is a province built on the backs of people who tamed land, raised cattle, built farms, extracted energy, and raised families while weathering the booms and busts of resource cycles. It’s no surprise that such a setting produces a political and social landscape that leans more conservative, values independence, and tends to be skeptical of centralized authority, especially from Ottawa.

Yet, it’s also a province of surprising complexity. Urban centres like Calgary and Edmonton are home to vibrant, diverse communities. There’s deep thoughtfulness here, too, but it often takes a different form than what some Central Canadians might expect. Alberta’s discourse is grounded in lived experience, not theory. “Common sense” matters. So does speaking your mind, and when someone feels unheard, it’s often not about a lack of airtime, but about the feeling that their reality is being brushed aside.

One phrase I’ve heard countless times in Alberta is, You’re not listening to me. Sometimes, that’s not a literal complaint, it’s a coded way of saying, You’re not agreeing with me. In Alberta, where beliefs are often forged in the furnace of real-world outcomes, farming yields, small business margins, frontline nursing shifts, disagreement can feel like dismissal. If someone tells you a policy won’t work, it’s probably because they’ve lived through something similar. Ignoring that isn’t just impolite, it’s a denial of experience.

This is where conversations between Alberta and other parts of Canada can break down. We confuse disagreement with disrespect. We treat pragmatism as resistance to progress, and we forget that emotional intelligence requires listening to not just what is being said, but why it matters to the speaker.

My Alberta family holds views that might make some urban Central Canadians bristle. They question bureaucratic red tape. They prize personal responsibility. They believe in earning what you get, and yet these are the same people who will pull over in a snowstorm to help a stranger, or give you the shirt off their back if they think you need it. They don’t expect perfection, but they expect fairness, honesty, and above all, effort.

So how do we move forward, together?

First, we stop talking about Alberta and start talking with Albertans. We acknowledge the tensions, but we also recognize the province’s extraordinary contributions: to our economy, to our energy independence, to our national character. As we help Alberta navigate economic transformation, from oil to innovation, we must do so with respect for the culture that built this place.

That means understanding that communication here is not always couched in policy language or academic nuance. It’s plain. It’s passionate. It’s personal. And it deserves to be met with the same.

If we want a better Canada, we need a better conversation with Alberta, not just about it. That begins with listening not just to words, but to the values and experiences behind them. When we do that, we’ll find that Alberta doesn’t need to be changed, it needs to be understood.

The Quiet Leader: Alberta’s Hidden Role in North America’s Prosperity

In an era of mounting economic uncertainty, geopolitical tension, and post-pandemic recovery, Alberta has quietly emerged as North America’s top subnational performer in a critical and often overlooked metric: the Human Development Index (HDI). For policy watchers and socio-economic analysts, this isn’t just a number to file under “interesting trivia.” Alberta’s position at the top of the HDI rankings among all Canadian provinces, American states, and Mexican territories marks a significant case study in the relationship between natural resource wealth, public policy, and long-term human development outcomes.

As of the most recent figures, Alberta boasts an HDI score of 0.947, narrowly edging out perennial Canadian leaders like British Columbia and Ontario, and standing shoulder to shoulder with wealthy U.S. states like Massachusetts (0.956). The HDI, developed by the United Nations, is a composite measure of life expectancy, education, and per capita income. It is often used as a more holistic gauge of prosperity than GDP alone, as it reflects not only how much wealth a region generates, but how that wealth translates into actual well-being.

Alberta’s strong showing may come as a surprise to some, especially given the narrative often pushed about the province being overly reliant on fossil fuels or politically out of step with the rest of the country, but the truth is more nuanced. Alberta’s prosperity, particularly in the past two decades, has allowed it to make significant investments in healthcare, education, and infrastructure. Its high-income levels have supported strong public services, when policy has aligned with long-term development goals, and its young, well-educated workforce has given the province a demographic advantage. This is not to ignore Alberta’s volatility or the challenges of a boom-and-bust economy, but rather to acknowledge that, when things align, the outcomes can be extraordinary.

Education is a particular strength. Alberta consistently ranks among the top in Canada, and even internationally, in literacy, math, and science scores, according to the OECD’s PISA results. Its public healthcare system, while strained like others across Canada, remains broadly effective and accessible. Meanwhile, high wages, especially in the energy and trades sectors, boost the per capita income metric significantly, even when adjusted for cost of living.

Of course, HDI doesn’t capture everything. Alberta’s Indigenous communities, rural populations, and recent immigrants often experience very different outcomes than the provincial average. Income inequality, climate vulnerability, and questions around economic diversification remain pressing concerns, but as an overall measure of human potential realized, Alberta’s HDI score offers a compelling counter-narrative to those who dismiss it as a one-note petro-state.

The implications of Alberta’s top-tier HDI rating should not be understated. For federal policymakers, it underscores the importance of regional economic engines in lifting national development indicators. For other provinces and territories, it poses a question: what mix of resources, governance, and vision leads to sustained human flourishing? And for Alberta itself, it’s a reminder that the province’s legacy need not be only pipelines and politics, it can also be about how to build a society where people truly thrive.

A Tale of Two Resource Economies: Alberta vs. Norway 

When it comes to managing the wealth derived from oil and gas, two regions stand out for their contrasting approaches: Norway (pop. 5.5million) and Alberta (pop. 4.9million). Both have harnessed their natural resources for economic growth, yet their strategies for licensing and managing these resources couldn’t be more different. The way each has handled its wealth offers key lessons in resource management, long-term planning, and the risks of relying too heavily on finite resources.

Norway: A Model of Prudence and Vision
Norway’s approach to managing its oil wealth is often hailed as a textbook example of responsible governance. Since the discovery of significant offshore oil reserves in the 1960s, Norway has been careful in extracting and managing its resources. Central to its success is the Government Pension Fund Global (GPFG), established in 1990 to invest surplus oil revenues for future generations. The Norwegian government adopted the principle of saving the vast majority of oil revenues, putting them into a sovereign wealth fund, which today is worth over $1.5 trillion USD.

But the key to Norway’s success is not just the size of its fund—it’s the disciplined, long-term vision that drives its policy. The fund is managed independently of the national budget, with only around 3% of its value being used each year to support government spending. The idea is to use oil wealth as a means to stabilize the economy, particularly during times of volatility in oil prices, while preserving it for future generations. The fund is diversified across global markets, ranging from equities and bonds to real estate, and is governed by a strict set of ethical guidelines that ensure investments align with environmental and social responsibility.

What stands out most about Norway’s resource licensing is its careful approach to development. The government has been strategic in its licensing policies, issuing permits in a way that balances long-term sustainability with economic growth. By managing resource extraction with an eye on long-term returns, Norway has avoided the so-called resource curse, a phenomenon that has plagued other oil-rich nations.

Alberta: A Cautionary Tale
Alberta, on the other hand, has taken a much less consistent approach to its oil and gas revenues. Since the 1970s, Alberta has been a major player in the global energy market, thanks to its vast reserves of oil sands. The province established the Heritage Savings Trust Fund in 1976, with the goal of saving a portion of its oil wealth for future generations. However, Alberta’s approach to managing this fund has been less disciplined than Norway’s.

The fund, now valued at around $19 billion CAD, has seen inconsistent contributions and, more often than not, withdrawals to cover the province’s operating expenses. This lack of long-term planning has led to missed opportunities for growth. When oil prices have been high, Alberta has relied heavily on resource revenue to fund public services, rather than investing for the future. This short-term approach has left the province vulnerable to the fluctuations in oil prices, with little in the way of a financial cushion to soften the blow during downturns.

Alberta’s resource licensing policies have also been marked by political expediency. The province has often prioritized immediate economic growth over long-term sustainability, leading to environmental concerns and a boom-bust economic cycle. Unlike Norway, which has been cautious in licensing new projects, Alberta has pushed forward with aggressive development, particularly in its oil sands sector. While this has spurred economic activity, it has also raised questions about the environmental costs and the wisdom of rapid, large-scale extraction.

Key Takeaways
The differences between Alberta and Norway are stark. Norway’s long-term vision, driven by a carefully managed sovereign wealth fund, stands in sharp contrast to Alberta’s more reactive, short-term approach. While both have abundant natural resources, it is Norway’s commitment to future generations, disciplined fund management, and cautious resource licensing that has helped it build a sustainable economic model. Alberta, in contrast, offers a cautionary tale of how reliance on resource wealth without long-term planning can leave a province exposed to the volatility of the global energy market.

As the world’s energy landscape continues to evolve, Alberta would do well to study Norway’s example—not just in terms of saving oil wealth but also in fostering a more sustainable approach to resource extraction and development. The future of resource economies will depend on the choices made today.