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Thursday, 27 November 2025

Strategic Divergence: European Autonomy and the Reconfiguration of Transatlantic Security in the Post-Ukraine War Era

 

Executive Summary

By late November 2025, the Ukraine conflict—now in its fourth calendar year—has reached a precarious diplomatic inflection point. Although the frontlines remain largely static after two summers of attritional warfare, the underlying geopolitical landscape has shifted dramatically. The widening transatlantic rift over the Trump administration's 28-point peace proposal has exposed deep structural divergences in American and European strategic cultures, threat perceptions, and visions for the future of European security.

This article  liberal internationalist study analyzes these increasingly explicit divergences, situating them within broader debates about global order, the erosion of Western unity, and the implications for Europe's long-term security architecture. Particular attention is paid to the domestic political pressures shaping American strategy, Europe's accelerating shift toward strategic autonomy, and the economic and geopolitical calculations influencing both sides of the Atlantic.

From an offensive realist perspective, these divergences are neither surprising nor unprecedented. As Mearsheimer argues, great powers inevitably prioritize their own security interests over abstract principles or alliance solidarity when core interests conflict. The current impasse represents a textbook case of competing security imperatives: Europe faces an immediate territorial threat from Russia, while the United States seeks to redirect resources toward containing China. What appears as diplomatic disagreement is actually the structural logic of great power competition asserting itself over the idealistic veneer of Western unity.

Introduction

The diplomatic impasse surrounding the Ukraine peace negotiations cannot be understood solely through the lens of disagreements over territorial concessions, force caps, or the legal status of occupied regions. Rather, it reflects a deeper rupture in the transatlantic relationship—one rooted in fundamentally different interpretations of threat, responsibility, and the principles underpinning the post-1945 security order.

For Europe, Russia represents a proximate and existential danger whose military, hybrid, and political operations continue to destabilize the continent. European governments—especially those in Central and Eastern Europe—view the Ukraine war as part of a longer continuum of Russian revanchism, necessitating long-term deterrence, collective defense, and the preservation of norms prohibiting territorial conquest.

For the Trump administration, by contrast, Ukraine is increasingly framed as a strategic diversion preventing the United States from concentrating resources on the Indo-Pacific and the escalating contest with China. The administration's insistence on a rapid settlement—even one that risks undermining Ukraine's sovereignty—reflects this prioritization. The fact that senior administration figures continue to characterize the conflict as a "European war" rather than a challenge to the global rules-based order further illustrates the philosophical distance between Washington and its European partners.

The Root Cause Debate: Mearsheimer's analysis offers a fundamentally different framework for understanding this divergence. He contends that Western policy elites have systematically misdiagnosed the conflict by focusing on Putin's alleged imperial ambitions rather than addressing what he identifies as the root cause: NATO expansion. From this perspective, the 2008 Bucharest summit declaration that Ukraine would eventually join NATO represented an existential threat to Russia—comparable to Russia forming a military alliance with Mexico and placing missiles along the Rio Grande. Mearsheimer argues that Putin's 2022 invasion was a preventive war designed to stop Ukraine from becoming a de facto NATO member, not an attempt to rebuild the Soviet Empire. This interpretation directly challenges the European narrative of unprovoked aggression and raises uncomfortable questions about Western responsibility for creating the conditions that led to war.

It is logical and reasonable to assume that this divergence will persist irrespective of the immediate outcome of the peace negotiations. European debates over autonomous nuclear deterrence, defense industrial expansion, and the establishment of a unified EU military command—accelerated by the 2025 Riga Security Compact and France's expanded nuclear-sharing consultations—signal an emerging consensus: the postwar European security system must be constructed on a more self-reliant foundation. Whether these developments ultimately strengthen the transatlantic alliance through more balanced burden-sharing or precipitate a gradual strategic decoupling remains one of the defining questions for 21st-century international relations.

The Evolution of the Peace Initiative


Origins and Development

The Trump administration's 28-point peace plan emerged from a highly unconventional diplomatic process involving US Special Envoy Steve Witkoff and Kirill Dmitriev, head of the Russian Direct Investment Fund, during meetings that excluded Ukraine, European allies, and even senior US national security officials. The plan was drafted with significant involvement from Jared Kushner following private consultations with Dmitriev and Ukrainian National Security Adviser Rustem Umerov.

Although the administration publicly claimed that the proposal reflected input from both parties, the weight of available evidence—including congressional testimony, leaked diplomatic cables, and European assessments—indicates that the original framework disproportionately incorporated Russian preferences. Secretary of State Marco Rubio's off-record characterization of the plan as resembling a "Russian wish list," despite later public denials, reinforced European suspicions about the plan's origins and intent.

Realist Assessment of the Negotiation Process: From Mearsheimer's perspective, the Trump administration's approach—while diplomatically unconventional—reflects a more realistic understanding of how conflicts between great powers are actually resolved. He argues that "in international politics, when you're dealing with great powers and questions of war and peace, realism has to take precedence over our feelings about what's fair." The exclusion of European voices and the bilateral focus on US-Russia accommodation is not a diplomatic failure but rather an acknowledgment that Ukraine's fate will ultimately be determined by great power bargaining, not by Ukrainian preferences or European moral objections. This process, however distasteful to liberal internationalists, mirrors historical precedents where smaller states' sovereignty was negotiated by larger powers—from the Congress of Vienna to Yalta.

Key Provisions of the Initial Plan

The initial 28-point proposal required Ukraine to:

  • permanently renounce NATO membership;
  • accept US recognition of Crimea, Luhansk, and Donetsk as Russian territory;
  • withdraw from parts of Donetsk it still controlled;
  • accept a demilitarized zone along revised contact lines;
  • cap its military at sharply reduced levels;
  • refrain from hosting NATO forces or participating in joint air-defense architectures.

These provisions represented a radical departure from long-standing US policy, effectively legitimizing territorial conquest and leaving Ukraine structurally vulnerable to future coercion. The plan also proposed a Russian "security oversight mechanism" for reconstruction funds—an element widely interpreted as granting Moscow leverage over Ukraine's internal political economy.

Mearsheimer on Territorial Concessions and Neutrality: Mearsheimer views these provisions not as capitulation but as unavoidable recognition of military and geopolitical realities. He argues that territorial concessions, while emotionally painful and seemingly unjust, are necessary because "Ukraine cannot retake this territory by force. Not without a level of Western military support that would risk direct confrontation with Russia." For Russia, holding Crimea and parts of Donbass represents core security interests—Crimea contains Russia's critical Black Sea naval base at Sevastopol, and the land bridge provides strategic depth. For Ukraine, "these territories are important but not existential. Ukraine can survive and potentially thrive as a state even without them."

On neutrality, Mearsheimer is unequivocal: Ukraine must become "genuinely neutral like Austria during the Cold War or Switzerland today. No NATO membership, no Western security guarantees, no foreign troops on Ukrainian soil." He acknowledges this is "not fair" and "absolutely not" just, "but it's realistic." The alternative—security guarantees as a NATO substitute—he dismisses as "NATO membership by another name," which Russia will never accept. This represents perhaps the sharpest divergence between realist and liberal internationalist approaches: Mearsheimer prioritizes stable settlement over justice, while European policymakers view justice (territorial integrity, sovereignty) as preconditions for stability.

Diplomatic Evolution

Following intense pushback from European governments, NATO leadership, and Ukraine, a revised 19-point plan emerged after October–November 2025 consultations in Geneva. Ukrainian negotiators confirmed that key restrictions—including the 600,000-troop cap and broad war-crimes amnesty—were removed. The new draft also softened language on NATO deployments and provided for internationally supervised referenda in disputed regions, though Kyiv continues to reject referenda under occupation.

It is logical and reasonable to assume that these revisions were driven by the administration's recognition that the original proposal was diplomatically untenable and risked fracturing NATO. Still, even after revisions, the plan remains far closer to Russia's preferred terms than to Ukraine's publicly stated positions.

The Missed Opportunity of 2022: Mearsheimer emphasizes that the current negotiations occur under far worse conditions than were available earlier in the conflict. He points to the March-April 2022 Istanbul negotiations, where "the parties came close to an agreement. Ukraine would accept neutrality. Russia would withdraw from most occupied territories and there would be some kind of international security guarantee structure." Since that deal collapsed, "we've had two more years of war. Tens of thousands more dead, entire cities reduced to rubble, Ukraine's economy devastated, and the military situation has actually gotten worse for Ukraine, not better." The territories Russia might have returned in 2022 are now deeply integrated into Russia with hundreds of thousands of Russian settlers. This analysis suggests that the Trump administration's urgency to reach settlement, however imperfect, may prevent an even worse outcome if fighting continues into 2026 and beyond.

Recent Developments: Political Instability in Kyiv

The peace negotiation process faces additional complications following dramatic political upheaval within the Ukrainian government. In late November 2025, anti-corruption investigators raided the home and office of Andriy Yermak, Ukraine's chief of staff and top negotiator. Within hours of the raid, Yermak submitted his resignation, marking what President Zelenskyy characterized as "a reboot of the office of the President of Ukraine."

The timing of Yermak's departure carries significant implications for Ukraine's negotiating posture. Over the previous three and a half years, Zelenskyy's cabinet had experienced considerable turnover, but Yermak's resignation represents the loss of the administration's second-most powerful figure and its primary diplomatic interlocutor with Western allies and Russia. President Zelenskyy acknowledged the sensitivity of the transition, stating he was "grateful to Andrei for always representing Ukraine's position in the negotiation track exactly as it should be" while announcing consultations to identify a successor.

The political ramifications extend beyond personnel changes. European allies had consistently emphasized the need for vigilance regarding corruption, and the investigation into Ukraine's chief negotiator threatens to undermine international confidence at a critical diplomatic juncture. The departure creates what analysts describe as a credibility gap: changing key negotiators this deep into the negotiation process raises questions about continuity and commitment, particularly as revised peace proposals circulate among the parties.

From a strategic perspective, the development presents both vulnerabilities and opportunities for Moscow. Russian officials have already questioned the legitimacy of the Ukrainian government, with Putin arguing they cannot sign agreements with Kyiv because Ukraine hasn't held recent elections. The corruption investigation and subsequent resignation provide additional rhetorical ammunition for those seeking to delegitimize Ukraine's negotiating position.

However, the entirety of Ukraine's negotiation team was not solely composed of Yermak, and other officials can continue the work. The ultimate strategic decisions remain with President Zelenskyy. Nevertheless, the incident removes a buffer between Zelenskyy and external scrutiny—should the corruption investigation expand, it could potentially place President Zelenskyy closer to the firing line.

This internal political crisis compounds the already formidable challenges facing Ukrainian diplomacy. As Steve Witkoff, President Trump's envoy, prepares to travel to Moscow to present proposals that Vladimir Putin has already indicated he will reject, Ukraine must simultaneously manage domestic political turbulence, European alliance coordination, and American pressure for territorial concessions. The convergence of these pressures at a single moment illustrates the precarious position of the Zelenskyy administration as it attempts to navigate between military necessity, political survival, and the preservation of Ukrainian sovereignty.

Implications for the Analytical Framework

This development reinforces several themes central to this analysis. First, it demonstrates the domestic political fragility that constrains Ukraine's diplomatic flexibility—Zelenskyy must manage not only external pressures from Russia and the United States but also internal legitimacy challenges. Second, it provides concrete evidence for Mearsheimer's characterization of Ukraine as lacking full agency in determining its fate; the corruption investigation and resulting political instability may force diplomatic concessions independent of strategic calculations. Third, it underscores European concerns about governance and the sustainability of long-term commitments to Ukrainian reconstruction and security guarantees if internal political instability persists.

The Fundamental Geopolitical Divergence


Competing Threat Assessments

The US–European divide rests on irreconcilable assessments of Russia's ambitions, the nature of global order, and the long-term strategic environment.

The European Perspective

For Europe—especially Poland, the Baltic states, Finland, and increasingly Germany—Russia constitutes an immediate and existential threat. The lessons of 2014 and 2022 remain central: Russian aggression advances when unopposed, and territorial concessions invite—not deter—future escalation.

European governments argue that:

  • downsizing Ukraine's military would create structural vulnerability;
  • legitimizing territorial changes by force would dismantle core principles of European security;
  • any settlement that leaves Russia with strategic momentum risks destabilizing the Baltic, Nordic, and Black Sea regions;
  • the Kremlin's military-industrial mobilization and deepening partnership with Iran and North Korea (including continued missile transfers documented through late 2025) demonstrate long-term revisionist intent.

European military intelligence assessments released in autumn 2025 warn that Russia's defense production has surpassed pre-2022 levels and that Moscow could regenerate offensive capacity against Ukraine within 18–24 months if sanctions erosion continues. These evaluations reinforce European skepticism toward a premature settlement.

The weight of available evidence clearly indicates that European opposition to the peace plan is not a matter of diplomatic style, but of core national security interests—rooted in geography, historical experience, and direct exposure to Russian power.

Challenging the Imperial Narrative: Mearsheimer directly contests the European interpretation of Russian motivations. While acknowledging that "Putin's speeches and writings do suggest a revanchist element, a desire to restore Russian influence over territories that were once part of the Soviet Union or the Russian Empire," he argues that this misses the crucial point: "the immediate cause of this war was NATO expansion. And the immediate path to peace requires addressing that root cause."

He contends that European threat assessments confuse symptoms with causes. Russia's military mobilization and territorial annexations are responses to perceived NATO encroachment, not evidence of innate expansionism. Mearsheimer cites Russia's actual military operations and diplomatic positions as being "consistently focused on preventing NATO expansion and securing Russia's strategic position, not on conquering all of Ukraine." This interpretation suggests that European fears of further Russian aggression are overblown—if NATO expansion is halted and Ukraine's neutrality is guaranteed, Russia's security concerns would be addressed and further conflict would be unnecessary.

However, Mearsheimer acknowledges a significant vulnerability in his own analysis: "my approach focuses almost entirely on great power competition and security interests. And in doing so, it tends to treat smaller states like Ukraine as objects rather than agents, pieces to be moved around the board by great powers." He admits that "Ukrainians have agency. They have preferences. They've chosen repeatedly to align with the West rather than with Russia. You can't just dismiss that as NATO manipulation or Western propaganda." This self-critique reveals the tension between structural realism and the lived experience of nations caught between great powers—a tension this liberal internationalist analysis addresses through its focus on European sovereignty concerns.

The American Calculus

The Trump administration's strategic logic centers on the urgency of reallocating military, financial, and industrial capacity toward countering China. Senior officials—including National Security Advisor Kash Patel—have repeatedly stated that "Ukraine is a distraction from the primary theater." The administration's 2025 National Defense Priorities Memorandum codified this hierarchy, identifying China as the dominant threat and limiting US commitments to European security beyond nuclear deterrence and basic intelligence cooperation.

Nevertheless, analysts across the US defense establishment caution that abrupt disengagement from Europe risks:

  • destabilizing the continent and creating future crises that draw the US back at higher cost;
  • undermining deterrence credibility in Asia by signaling inconsistency;
  • accelerating Russian–Chinese–Iranian trilateral coordination, already visible through joint naval patrols in the Mediterranean and the 2025 Arctic exercises.

The weight of available evidence clearly suggests that the administration's focus on short-term disengagement overlooks the long-term structural consequences for global order and US strategic flexibility.

Mearsheimer's Qualified Support for Reorientation: Mearsheimer acknowledges understanding "the Trump administration's logic, even if I don't agree with all of their conclusions. The United States is not all powerful. We cannot solve every problem or defend every threatened country. We need to prioritize our commitments and our resources. And there's a strong argument that containing China should be America's top priority with everything else, including Ukraine, being secondary."

However, he identifies a critical flaw in the administration's approach: "It assumes that a peace settlement imposed on Ukraine will actually be stable and durable. I have serious doubts about that." A settlement leaving Ukraine "weak, partially occupied, and without credible security guarantees creates conditions for future conflict. Russia may decide in five or 10 years that it wants more territory, that it wants to finish the job of subordinating Ukraine to Russian influence." This represents Mearsheimer's central concern: "the Trump plan has a fundamental weakness. It tries to end the war without creating the conditions for lasting peace. It's a ceasefire agreement, not a peace settlement."

This analysis bridges European and American concerns: Europe fears immediate Russian resurgence; Mearsheimer shares that fear but locates its source in inadequate settlement design rather than innate Russian expansionism. Both perspectives suggest the current peace plan may fail to achieve its stated objective of ending the conflict permanently.

Divergent Visions of Global Order


European Commitment to Liberal Internationalism

European leaders insist that any peace arrangement must adhere to core principles of territorial integrity, sovereignty, and the prohibition of conquest. The EU, NATO, and OSCE each reiterated in October–November 2025 that their institutions cannot be compelled to recognize territorial changes imposed by force. European policymakers view these principles not as abstractions but as preconditions for continental stability.

To accept Russia's annexations—or to compel Ukraine to accept them—would undermine the foundational norms of the post-1945 European security order. European governments therefore argue that the 28-point plan, even in its revised form, risks institutionalizing instability rather than resolving the conflict.

The Realist Critique of Normative Order: Mearsheimer explicitly rejects the European framework: "If we accept territorial changes through force, we're setting a terrible precedent. We're telling aggressive powers that they can take what they want. But that's not how international politics works. Territorial changes through force have been a constant throughout human history. What matters isn't the abstract principle. What matters is whether we create a stable settlement that prevents future wars."

He invokes historical precedent: "The peace that ended World War II involved massive territorial changes. Poland lost territory to the Soviet Union and gained territory from Germany. Millions of people were displaced. Was it just? No. But it created a framework that prevented World War III for decades. That's the kind of cold-blooded calculation we need to make."

This represents a fundamental philosophical divide: European policymakers argue that stable order requires consistent adherence to sovereignty norms; Mearsheimer argues that stable order requires accommodating great power security interests, regardless of moral principles. The former prioritizes legitimacy and rules; the latter prioritizes power balances and strategic stability. These worldviews are not merely different but mutually incompatible—they cannot both be correct simultaneously.

The American Transactional Turn

The Trump administration's approach evidences a decisive philosophical shift: from America as architect and guarantor of international order toward America as a narrowly self-interested power engaged in selective transactional arrangements. Democracy, sovereignty, and rule-of-law commitments now play diminished roles in policy calculations, replaced by cost-benefit analyses centered on domestic economic performance, energy priorities, and great-power competition.

This worldview sees alliances not as enduring security communities but as negotiable partnerships. It is logical and reasonable to assume that this approach—combined with US–EU trade frictions over energy, tariffs, and defense subsidies—has accelerated European consideration of long-term strategic autonomy.

Alignment and Divergence with Realism: The Trump administration's transactional approach superficially resembles Mearsheimer's realism but differs in critical respects. Both reject liberal internationalist norms in favor of interest-based calculations. However, Mearsheimer emphasizes creating durable strategic settlements that prevent future wars, while the Trump approach prioritizes short-term disengagement without adequate attention to stability conditions.

Mearsheimer's critique of sanctions-based deterrence illustrates this difference: "The Trump administration's answer seems to be, we'll deter Russia by threatening to reinstate sanctions and cut off economic cooperation if they violate the agreement, but sanctions haven't deterred Russia so far. Why would they work better in the future?" This suggests that authentic realism requires more sophisticated planning than the administration's current approach provides—crude transactionalism is not equivalent to strategic realism.

European Response and the Consolidation of Strategic Autonomy


Defense Spending Surge

Europe's defense posture has transformed more profoundly in the past three years than in any period since the end of the Cold War. Russia's ongoing assault on Ukraine—combined with intensifying uncertainty over the long-term reliability of American security commitments—has catalyzed an unprecedented surge in European defense expenditure. By the end of 2024, EU member states collectively allocated €343 billion to defense, marking the tenth consecutive annual increase. Current projections indicate that this total will reach approximately €381 billion in 2025, pushing aggregate spending to roughly 2.1 percent of EU GDP, the highest sustained level in modern EU history.

NATO, responding both to Russian revisionism and transatlantic political shifts, is now expected to adopt a two-tier spending benchmark for 2030: 3.5% of GDP for core defense capabilities and an additional 1.5% for broader security functions, including cyber, critical infrastructure protection, and advanced industrial capacity. If implemented, this framework would require European NATO members to collectively invest nearly €900 billion in additional defense resources by the end of the decade. The cumulative pattern—visible in national budgets, procurement plans, and force-generation requirements—provides overwhelming evidence that Europe is entering a historically significant rearmament cycle driven not only by Russia's aggression but also by doubts about the durability of American guarantees.

The End of Strategic Dependence: Mearsheimer's analysis anticipated this development: "European leaders are caught in an impossible position. On the one hand, they know that abandoning Ukraine or accepting a Russian imposed peace would be catastrophic for European security... On the other hand, Europe lacks the military capability to defend Ukraine without American support. European armies have been run down after decades of peace dividend spending cuts."

He identifies this as the consequence of structural dependence: "The uncomfortable truth is that Europe has been freeloading on American security guarantees for decades now. When push comes to shove, they're discovering that they can't defend their own interests without Washington. And Washington under Trump or potentially under future administrations is less and less willing to carry that burden."

From a realist perspective, Europe's rearmament represents the natural correction of an unsustainable imbalance. Great powers cannot indefinitely subsidize the defense of wealthy allies who refuse to provide for their own security. Europe's current trajectory—toward strategic autonomy and increased defense capacity—is not a crisis but a necessary adjustment to geopolitical reality. The only question is whether this adjustment occurs rapidly enough to deter Russian adventurism in the interim period.

Institutional Initiatives

Institutionally, the European Union has begun to translate political rhetoric on strategic autonomy into concrete financial and industrial mechanisms. The European Commission's launch of the €150 billion Security Action for Europe (SAFE) loan facility represents the most ambitious defense-industrial financing initiative in EU history. By design, SAFE directs procurement toward European manufacturers and explicitly excludes U.S. defense companies—an unmistakable signal of Brussels' intent to strengthen internal industrial capacity and reduce structural dependence on American supply chains.

In parallel, the EU activated national "escape clauses" within its fiscal governance framework, permitting member states to increase defense spending by up to 1.5% of GDP for four years without violating Stability and Growth Pact thresholds. More than half of EU members have signaled intent to use this mechanism, and twelve have already filed formal notifications. These combined actions indicate not an episodic response to crisis but a broader strategic pivot toward European self-reliance in defense planning, industrial policy, and capability development.

Nuclear Deterrence Discussions

Europe's shifting nuclear debate underscores the magnitude of this reorientation. French President Emmanuel Macron has reiterated France's willingness to extend aspects of its nuclear deterrent to European partners under defined political and strategic conditions. Germany's Chancellor Friedrich Merz—breaking with decades of political reticence—has publicly endorsed opening structured consultations with both France and the United Kingdom regarding the future of European nuclear burden-sharing and contingency planning.

While no formal commitments have yet been made, the balance of probabilities indicates that European leaders increasingly recognize the necessity of credible, partially autonomous deterrence architectures should U.S. extended nuclear guarantees become more conditional. Debates that were once taboo—joint nuclear doctrine, French-German coordination, dual-key arrangements, and EU-level strategic planning—have now entered mainstream policy discourse.

The Bleak European Future: Mearsheimer's assessment of Europe's trajectory is notably pessimistic: "This is what I meant when I said Europe faces a bleak future. If this peace settlement goes through in something like its current form, Europe will face a resurgent Russia that has proven it can change borders by force while lacking the military means to prevent it from doing so again. Germany, Poland, and the Baltic states will all be more vulnerable. The EU will be weakened and the transatlantic alliance that has been the cornerstone of Western security will be fundamentally damaged."

However, his analysis also suggests that European strategic autonomy—if successfully implemented—could partially mitigate this bleakness. A Europe capable of defending itself would no longer be hostage to American domestic politics or vulnerable to Russian coercion. The question is whether Europe can develop credible military capacity rapidly enough, and whether it possesses the political unity necessary to deploy that capacity effectively. Mearsheimer's framework suggests skepticism on both counts, but acknowledges that strategic circumstances may force Europe to overcome historical divisions.

Implications and Future Trajectories


Immediate Diplomatic Outlook

Ukraine has signaled conditional willingness to continue refining the latest iteration of the peace proposal, with President Zelenskyy preparing for an expected visit to Washington before the end of November. Although the Thanksgiving deadline initially imposed by President Trump has been relaxed, the U.S. administration is still seeking momentum toward an agreement.

However, significant divergences remain between Ukrainian, European, and Russian positions. Despite modifications to the original draft, Russia continues to demand additional territorial concessions that Kyiv rejects, and Europe remains firmly opposed to legitimizing unilateral territorial revisionism. The available evidence suggests that talks will continue but without imminent prospects of bridging the core sovereignty issues at stake.

Scenario Analysis: Mearsheimer outlines several potential trajectories, the most likely being continued diplomatic stalemate: "Scenario one, the peace plan collapses. Russia rejects the revised proposal because it still includes security guarantees or other provisions Moscow finds unacceptable. Ukraine rejects it because the territorial concessions are too painful without meaningful protection."

In this scenario, fighting would continue into 2026, with "more maximalist positions harden on both sides. Russia may decide it can take more territory. Ukraine may decide it can never accept any compromise and we'll have missed another opportunity." This analysis suggests urgency without optimism—the window for settlement exists but may close rapidly, and the alternatives to settlement are uniformly worse than any achievable agreement.

Long-Term Strategic Consequences

The controversy surrounding the peace plan has accelerated—and in some cases crystallized—European debates about long-term strategic autonomy. Europe's defense expenditure has risen 17% in real terms, part of a broader global upswing driven primarily by Russia's war of attrition in Ukraine and widespread concerns over U.S. strategic retrenchment.

It is logical and reasonable to assume that regardless of the ultimate trajectory of the ongoing negotiations, Europe's long-term security strategy will emphasize continental self-reliance. This will require not only higher and more consistent military spending, but also sustained investment in resilience: energy diversification, advanced industrial capacity, cyber defense, intelligence sharing, and coordinated diplomatic initiatives. Europe is gradually acknowledging that military strength must be embedded in a wider architecture of economic security and political coherence.

The Tragedy of Predictable Disaster: Mearsheimer emphasizes that current circumstances were both foreseeable and avoidable: "The tragedy of this situation is that it was so predictable and so avoidable, but we're past that now. We can't go back to 2008 or 2014 and make different choices. We can only deal with where we are today and try to find the best path forward from here."

This perspective reframes the analysis: rather than debating who bears moral responsibility for the war, policymakers must focus on damage limitation and preventing escalation. From this view, European strategic autonomy emerges not as a desirable goal but as an unfortunate necessity—the consequence of failed Western statecraft that ignored basic principles of great power politics and created a crisis that now forces Europe to provide for its own defense.

The Future of Transatlantic Relations

The balance of probabilities suggests that the worldview driving the Trump administration's approach to the Ukraine conflict—transactional diplomacy, emphasis on burden-sharing, and strategic deprioritization of Europe relative to Asia—reflects a durable current within American politics rather than a temporary aberration. Even if future administrations adopt different tones or tactics, European policymakers increasingly recognize that U.S. commitments may become more variable, more conditional, and less automatic over time.

Consequently, Europe's strategic autonomy initiatives represent not merely episodic adjustments but a fundamental reorientation of the continent's security philosophy. The debate is no longer whether Europe needs greater self-reliance, but how far and how quickly it must move to ensure that its vital interests are not contingent on the shifting priorities of American domestic politics.

The Stress Test of Great Power Competition: Mearsheimer frames the current crisis as revealing the true nature of alliances: "The people making decisions about Ukraine right now in Washington, in Brussels, in Moscow, in Kyiv are all operating under enormous stress with imperfect information and facing impossible choices. They're trying to navigate between different dangers. Escalation, surrender, endless war, betrayed allies."

His analysis suggests that the transatlantic alliance was sustainable only during the unipolar moment when American dominance was unchallenged and threats were manageable. As great power competition returns—with China rising and Russia reasserting itself regionally—the structural tensions within NATO become unavoidable. America cannot simultaneously contain China, deter Russia, and subsidize European defense. Europe cannot simultaneously maintain its social model, increase defense spending, and preserve fiscal discipline. These competing imperatives will strain the alliance regardless of diplomatic efforts to maintain unity.

Analytical Synthesis: Evaluating the General Vector

The integration of Mearsheimer's realist perspective with this study's liberal internationalist analysis reveals several critical tensions and convergences:

Areas of Convergence

1. Recognition of Strategic Instability: Both perspectives agree that the current peace proposal, in its various iterations, fails to create conditions for durable stability. This study emphasizes the risk of legitimizing territorial conquest; Mearsheimer emphasizes the inadequacy of security guarantees. Despite different reasoning, both conclude the settlement is fundamentally flawed.

2. European Vulnerability: Both analyses acknowledge Europe's current military weakness and dependence on American security commitments. The liberal internationalist analysis documents European rearmament as a response; Mearsheimer characterizes it as overdue correction of unsustainable free-riding. Both recognize that Europe faces a dangerous transition period.

3. Transatlantic Divergence as Structural: Both perspectives treat US-European disagreement not as a communication failure but as the product of incompatible strategic positions. Geography, threat proximity, and competing priorities create divergences that diplomatic rhetoric cannot bridge.

Areas of Fundamental Conflict

1. Root Cause Attribution: The liberal internationalist analysis treats Russian aggression as the primary driver of instability, requiring deterrence and containment. Mearsheimer treats NATO expansion as the primary driver, requiring accommodation of Russian security interests. These interpretations lead to incompatible policy prescriptions.

2. Role of Norms in Security: The liberal internationalist analysis argues that stable order requires consistent application of sovereignty and territorial integrity principles. Mearsheimer argues that stable order requires power balances that accommodate great power security interests, regardless of moral principles. One prioritizes legitimacy; the other prioritizes equilibrium.

3. Ukrainian Agency: The liberal internationalist analysis implicitly treats Ukraine as a sovereign actor whose preferences matter independently. Mearsheimer explicitly—and self-critically—acknowledges that his framework treats Ukraine as an object in great power competition rather than an agent with legitimate interests.

The General Vector: Toward Multipolarity and Fragmentation

When synthesized, these perspectives point toward a consistent general trajectory:

1. End of Liberal Hegemonic Order: Both analyses, despite different normative commitments, describe the dissolution of the post-Cold War liberal international order characterized by American primacy, universal norms, and the expansion of democratic institutions. This order is being replaced by a more competitive, multipolar system where power politics reassert primacy over normative consensus.

2. Regionalization of Security: Europe's turn toward strategic autonomy, documented extensively in the liberal internationalist analysis and anticipated in Mearsheimer's analysis, suggests a broader pattern: security provision is becoming increasingly regional rather than global. The American security umbrella is contracting, forcing regions to develop autonomous defense capacities.

3. Return of Tragedy in International Relations: Mearsheimer's framework emphasizes the tragic dimension of international politics—competent, well-intentioned leaders making rational decisions within their constraints nonetheless produce catastrophic outcomes. The liberal internationalist analysis' documentation of escalating tensions, despite no party desiring great power war, illustrates this tragedy. The general vector points toward a more dangerous international environment where miscalculation and unintended escalation become increasingly likely.

4. Primacy of Geography and Proximity: The US-European divergence reflects a fundamental truth: threat perception is shaped by geographic proximity. Europe cannot relocate away from Russia; America can redirect attention toward Asia. This geographic reality will continue driving transatlantic divergence regardless of diplomatic efforts or alliance management.

5. Instability During Transition: Both perspectives suggest the current period—characterized by declining American hegemony but not yet stabilized multipolarity—is particularly dangerous. Historical transitions between international orders have frequently produced great power wars. The inability to resolve the Ukraine conflict despite three years of effort illustrates the difficulty of managing this transition peacefully.

Implications for Policy

The synthesized analysis suggests several uncomfortable conclusions:

For Europe: Strategic autonomy is not optional but imperative. The question is whether Europe can develop credible military capacity and political unity before the next crisis. The current trajectory—increased spending but fragmented procurement and command structures—may prove inadequate.

For the United States: Attempting to maintain hegemonic commitments with declining relative power invites overextension. However, abrupt disengagement risks creating power vacuums that produce instability requiring future intervention at higher cost. There is no cost-free option.

For Ukraine: As the object of great power competition, Ukraine faces the prospect of settlement terms determined primarily by external actors regardless of Ukrainian preferences. This represents the darkest implication of realist analysis—small states caught between great powers rarely control their own fate.

For International Order: The conflict has demonstrated that neither normative appeals nor economic sanctions can prevent great powers from pursuing perceived vital security interests through military force. Future order will rest more heavily on deterrence and balance of power, less on shared norms and institutional constraints.

Conclusion

The widening divergence between American and European approaches to the Ukraine peace process reflects not a tactical disagreement but a deeper structural evolution in transatlantic relations. The available evidence indicates that Washington and European capitals increasingly operate under distinct threat perceptions, strategic priorities, and conceptions of international order. For Europe, Russia remains an immediate and existential challenger whose defeat and containment require sustained military, economic, and political commitment. For the current U.S. administration, Ukraine represents an obstacle to reorienting strategic focus toward China, justifying rapid settlement even at the expense of European security concerns and Ukrainian sovereignty.

Mearsheimer's realist critique adds a third dimension: both American and European approaches fail because they refuse to address the root cause—NATO expansion—that created the conditions for conflict. From this perspective, sustainable peace requires acknowledging Russian security interests through Ukrainian neutrality and territorial accommodation, however distasteful to liberal sensibilities. The choice is between justice and peace; international politics rarely permits both simultaneously.

This divergence has catalyzed the most significant debate over Europe's security future in decades. Rising defense budgets, the emergence of EU-level financing instruments, expanded nuclear deterrence discussions, and the institutionalization of autonomous defense capabilities all signal recognition that the continent cannot assume long-term American guardianship as a fixed strategic constant. Whether these developments ultimately produce a more balanced transatlantic partnership—anchored in equitable burden-sharing and shared strategic purpose—or lead to a gradual strategic decoupling remains uncertain.

What is clear, however, is that Europe is entering a transformative era. The choices made in the coming years will shape not only the architecture of European security, but the future of the liberal international order itself. Mearsheimer's framework suggests an even darker conclusion: the liberal international order may already be irretrievably lost, replaced by a competitive multipolar system where security depends on power balances rather than shared norms. If this assessment proves correct, the current debate over Ukraine peace terms represents not a temporary crisis but the permanent condition of 21st-century international relations—tragic, unstable, and resistant to diplomatic resolution.

The general vector points unmistakably toward fragmentation, competition, and the return of great power rivalry as the organizing principle of international politics. How skillfully leaders navigate this transition will determine whether the coming decades resemble the managed competition of the Cold War or the catastrophic miscalculations of the early 20th century.

Tuesday, 25 November 2025

Pipeline Politics and Policy Trade-Offs: Economic, Environmental, and Federal Challenges in the Canada–Alberta Memorandum of Understanding (2025)


Introduction

The November 27, 2025 MOU between the Government of Canada (the "Carney government") and Government of Alberta marks perhaps the most ambitious attempt in recent decades to reconcile economic development, climate-action promises, and the preservation of national unity. On paper, it represents a comprehensive strategy to position Canada as a diversified energy exporter — especially to Asian markets — while simultaneously pledging deep emissions reductions. Yet the challenges embedded in the agreement — political, economic, social, and environmental — cast serious doubt on its ultimate realization and expose fundamental tensions in Canada's governance model.

Economic Viability and the Private-Sector Question

First, the fact that the MOU stipulates the pipeline(s) must be "private-sector constructed and financed" — despite generous regulatory accommodations and federal backing — strongly suggests that the underlying economic fundamentals remain uncertain. If the balance of probabilities is any guide, the absence (as of now) of a credible, committed private-sector proponent reflects deep investor skepticism. This skepticism likely stems from a combination of factors: volatile global oil prices, increasing capital costs, regulatory uncertainty (especially given the conditional requirement for carbon capture and storage, or CCUS), and the political risk posed by opposition from coastal British Columbia and Indigenous communities.

In effect, this echoes past experience under Trans Mountain Expansion — a project whose viability ultimately required full federal ownership after private participation proved unreliable. The similarity suggests that, despite claims of private-sector initiative, public-sector intervention may eventually become inevitable: a creeping reversion to direct public financing or underwriting, which would effectively contradict the MOU's stated commitment to private financing.

Indigenous and Regional Opposition — A Potentially Insurmountable Barrier

Second, the explicit repudiation of the project by Coastal First Nations (CFN) represents a potentially insurmountable legal and political barrier. According to public statements, CFN leadership has declared the 2018 coastal tanker ban non-negotiable, rejected exemptions, and insisted they have "zero interest" in co-ownership or profit-sharing from a project they view as existentially threatening to their lands, waters, and way of life.

The MOU's provision for "opportunities for Indigenous co-ownership and shared economic benefits" is therefore unlikely to overcome the moral, legal, and cultural objections from affected Indigenous stakeholders. The history of pipeline projects in Canada shows that consent framed as a transactional equity deal — especially when opposed by communities on principle — seldom produces social legitimacy or prevents litigation or blockades. It stands to reason — given the publicly stated refusal by CFN and the absence of any indication that they intend to change course — that Indigenous opposition could alone derail the project. Even if proponents attempt to argue "adequate consultation," the intensity of the opposition suggests such a claim would likely be met with legal challenge and sustained political resistance.

Furthermore, the fact that the MOU invokes future consultation with both Indigenous Peoples and the government of British Columbia (B.C.) does little to allay concerns. The MOU provides no guarantee of B.C.'s acquiescence, and given the sharp objections voiced by B.C.'s government and coastal First Nations, any "meaningful engagement" seems unlikely to yield consent or social license.

Thus, rather than embodying reconciliation and cooperative federalism, the MOU perpetuates a model in which economic objectives are prioritized — with Indigenous and regional governance relegated to an afterthought. The balance of evidence indicates that this will exacerbate, not reconcile, long-standing structural injustices and inter-jurisdictional tensions.

Climate Policy and Regulatory Fragmentation: A Risky Precedent

Third, the environmental and climate-policy dimension of the MOU introduces serious risks not only to Canada's emissions trajectory, but to the coherence of its regulatory architecture. Under the agreement, the federal government pledges not to implement a previously planned oil and gas emissions cap. Instead, Alberta's existing regulatory framework — the Technology Innovation and Emissions Reduction (TIER) Program — will be treated as the basis for carbon pricing, with a negotiated "equivalency" agreement to be finalized by April 1, 2026. The MOU sets a "minimum effective credit price" of $130 per tonne for industrial carbon pricing.

The deal also contemplates suspending the planned Clean Electricity Regulations (CER) in Alberta, again pending renegotiation. On top of that, the MOU conditions pipeline approval on the simultaneous progression of the Pathways Alliance CCUS project — aiming to make Alberta's bitumen among the lowest-carbon-intensity oil produced globally.

But this "grand bargain" is fraught with uncertainty. CCUS at the scale envisaged by Pathways — the "world's largest" upon maturity — remains technologically and economically unproven, with unresolved questions regarding the lifecycle emissions of heavy oil, the energy required for capture and injection, the permanence and monitoring of storage, and the scale-up risks. Given these uncertainties, the claim that the MOU will preserve Canada's climate commitments is, at best, speculative. It stands to reason to expect that, unless CCUS performance exceeds expectations by a wide margin, actual emissions reductions will fall short — particularly given the increased production and export of bitumen.

Moreover, by exempting Alberta from federal emissions cap legislation and CER while permitting expanded oil export infrastructure, the MOU effectively establishes a dangerous precedent of regulatory fragmentation. That undermines the coherence of national climate policy, threatens interprovincial equity, and may erode confidence among international partners and investors that Canada intends to meet its long-term climate obligations.

The Hidden Climate Retreat: Beyond the Pipeline


The Forest Behind the Tree

While public debate has focused intensely on the proposed northern pipeline itself, political analyst Chantal Hébert argues persuasively that this focus obscures a far more consequential transformation: the systematic dismantling of Canada's climate policy infrastructure. As Hébert observed in her analysis of the MOU, the pipeline represents merely "the tree hiding the forest, and the forest is called climate policy." The pipeline debate, dramatic as it is, distracts from examining what the agreement actually does to Canada's emissions trajectory and regulatory framework.

The Electricity Sector Carve-Out and Its Cascading Consequences

The most significant but under-examined element of the MOU is the exemption granted to Alberta from the Clean Electricity Regulations. This carve-out permits Alberta to expand natural gas-generated electricity — a fossil fuel source — ostensibly to meet surging demand from data centers and other energy-intensive industries. The implications extend far beyond Alberta's borders.

Hébert notes that over the past two decades, deliberate policy interventions enabled Canada's electricity sector to reduce its emissions by approximately half — one of the country's few clear climate policy successes. The Alberta exemption now threatens to reverse that progress. More troubling still is the precedent it establishes. Ontario, facing severe economic pressures in its auto manufacturing sector, will almost certainly demand an equivalent carve-out to attract data centers and industrial investment. Saskatchewan, New Brunswick, and Nova Scotia are likely to follow. As Hébert pointedly asks: having signed a document explicitly designed to attract data centers to Alberta through expanded fossil fuel generation, on what basis could Prime Minister Carney refuse Ontario the same accommodation?

The result would be an electricity sector increasingly reliant on fossil fuel generation across multiple provinces — a structural shift that moves Canada's energy system decisively backward. While federal officials suggest that raising the industrial carbon price could offset these carve-outs, analysis conducted by civil servants indicates that current pricing levels are wholly inadequate. According to Hébert, offsetting the emissions increases from provincial electricity carve-outs would require doubling industrial carbon pricing — a political and economic threshold the government shows no inclination to approach.

The Absence of Climate Impact Assessment

Perhaps most revealing is what the federal government chose not to do before signing the MOU. No comprehensive assessment was undertaken to determine whether this "new path" — combining carve-outs, increased oil production, and reliance on unproven CCUS technology — would actually achieve Canada's 2030 and 2050 emissions reduction targets. Hébert suggests the reason for this omission is straightforward: such an assessment would demonstrate that the new approach does not, in fact, lead to the same destination.

A government genuinely committed to demonstrating that regulatory flexibility and economic accommodation could coexist with climate ambition would have commissioned exactly such an analysis — and publicized the results to reassure both its climate-focused caucus members and the Canadian public. The failure to do so strongly suggests that the MOU represents not a recalibration of means toward a consistent end, but rather a fundamental retreat from Canada's climate commitments. This retreat, Hébert argues, explains Steven Guilbeault's resignation far more convincingly than disagreement over a single pipeline or a political event in Calgary. Guilbeault recognized that key structural elements of Canada's emissions reduction framework had been dismantled without equivalent replacement.

Undoing a Decade of Climate Policy

The cumulative effect of the changes embedded in or enabled by the MOU is to unwind nearly a decade of federal climate policy. The consumer carbon price has been abandoned. The electric vehicle sales mandate has been weakened. The oil and gas emissions cap has been shelved. The framework for eliminating fossil fuel subsidies has been set aside. And now, through the electricity carve-outs, one of Canada's few emissions reduction success stories is being reversed.

Hébert frames the fundamental question starkly: if Canadians are willing to accept this reversal and return to a fossil fuel-based economy, that is a legitimate democratic choice. But the choice should be acknowledged openly, not obscured behind technical arguments about equivalency agreements, industrial carbon pricing adjustments, and speculative CCUS projects. What the MOU represents, in substance, is a decision to prioritize short-term economic accommodation and political management over long-term climate policy coherence — a decision with consequences extending far beyond the fate of any single pipeline proposal.

Political Dynamics: Theater More Than Substance?


The Democratic Mandate Problem

Beyond the policy substance, the MOU raises profound questions about democratic legitimacy and political accountability. Unlike a scenario in which a Conservative government implemented such policies following an explicit campaign commitment, Mark Carney did not campaign on dismantling climate policy infrastructure or exempting provinces from federal environmental regulations. Hébert emphasizes this distinction sharply: Carney won substantial support in British Columbia, much of it from NDP voters who backed him based on his stated commitment to climate action and reconciliation with Indigenous peoples.

These voters now confront a jarring disconnect between the platform they supported and the policies being implemented. As Hébert observes, they are rightly asking: "when did we vote for this?" The absence of any electoral mandate for the MOU's core provisions undermines its political legitimacy and creates acute tensions within the Liberal coalition itself — tensions dramatized by Guilbeault's resignation and reported unrest among B.C. Liberal MPs.

The Quebec Counterfactual and Federalism Asymmetry

Hébert's most striking analytical device is a thought experiment that exposes the asymmetry in how different provinces are treated within Canadian federalism. She invites consideration of an alternate scenario: imagine a Liberal Prime Minister, elected to a minority government with substantial support from Quebec, negotiating a major pipeline project running through Quebec — without Quebec's consent, without consultation with affected Quebec communities, and in direct contradiction to Quebec's stated environmental priorities.

The political consequences would be immediate and catastrophic. As Hébert notes, the Quebec sovereignty movement would experience a surge in support perhaps unseen since the failure of the Meech Lake Accord. The notion that such unilateral federal action could occur over Quebec's objections is almost inconceivable within the lived reality of Canadian politics.

Yet this is precisely the situation in which British Columbia now finds itself. The federal government negotiated an agreement with Alberta that directly affects British Columbia's territory, environment, and constitutional interests — without B.C.'s participation or consent. Premier David Eby's observation that "this would not happen to any other province" is not rhetorical exaggeration but a sober assessment of the double standard at work. The Quebec counterfactual reveals that certain provinces' objections are treated as politically non-negotiable, while others' are treated as obstacles to be managed or overridden.

This asymmetry raises uncomfortable questions about the integrity of cooperative federalism as practiced in contemporary Canada. If federalism becomes a vehicle for brokering deals between the federal government and one province at the direct expense of another — particularly where Indigenous rights and environmental protection are at stake — the model's legitimacy is fundamentally compromised.

Symbolic Politics and Uncertain Outcomes

The political context and timing of the MOU raise the question of whether the agreement is more symbolic than substantive. The deal was signed publicly with great fanfare — presented as a cornerstone of the Carney government's broader "nation-building" strategy to reduce Canada's dependence on the United States amid rising trade tensions.

Yet in substance the agreement leaves open almost every critical variable: actual private-sector backing for the pipeline remains absent; the approval process is conditioned on multiple interdependent projects (pipeline plus CCUS) that must all succeed; Indigenous and B.C. consent remains uncertain; and the regulatory and investment frameworks remain under negotiation. The MOU sets deadlines (e.g., July 1, 2026 — for Alberta to submit a pipeline application to the federal "Major Projects Office") but provides no guarantee of success.

Given these open-ended contingencies, the likelihood is high that this MOU may end up as a political instrument: a performative signal to Alberta voters, oil-industry stakeholders, and global energy markets — rather than a viable blueprint for actual delivery. The weight of evidence suggests that what matters may not be whether the pipeline is built, but that the political narrative of "energy sovereignty" and "economic diversification" is established and maintained.

Whether or not the proposed northwest pipeline is ever built, the MOU has already crystallized fundamental tensions at the core of contemporary Canadian governance: the conflict between economic development and environmental protection; the fragility of cooperative federalism when confronted with regional special interests; and the persistent marginalization of Indigenous rights in large-scale infrastructure decisions.

Even if the pipeline remains an aspirational or aborted project, the MOU's legacy will likely endure — not least through its signaling effect to investors, provinces, and foreign partners that Canada is willing to trade climate-policy coherence for short-term economic or strategic gains. That signal may shape energy, investment, and climate politics for years to come, with consequences far beyond the fate of any single pipeline.

Market Diversification Rationale

The economic rationale for the proposed northern pipeline rests on the longstanding objective of diversifying Canada's energy export markets and reducing dependence on U.S. buyers. Former Alberta premier Jason Kenney estimated in a CBC interview that a pipeline capable of transporting roughly one million barrels per day to the B.C. coast could generate approximately $25 billion in economic activity and $5 billion annually in combined federal–provincial tax and royalty revenues. These optimistic projections hinge on a key premise: that access to Asian markets would reduce or eliminate the persistent price discount afflicting Western Canadian Select (WCS) relative to global benchmarks when sold exclusively into U.S. markets.

The Trans Mountain Expansion (TMX) project is often cited as evidence that marine export capacity can improve the economics of Canadian oil. TMX, completed at a massive public cost, reported roughly $568 million in earnings in the first quarter of 2025. Yet TMX's profitability cannot be separated from the extraordinary fact that the project proceeded only after the federal government acquired the pipeline outright when private-sector partners withdrew. TMX is thus both a proof of concept and a cautionary tale: while westward export infrastructure can generate profitable returns, the risk profile appears too high for private investors to shoulder without substantial public intervention.

Private Sector Viability Concerns

This history casts a long shadow over the northern pipeline proposal. A central condition of the 2025 MOU is that the project must be fully financed and delivered by the private sector. Prime Minister Carney emphasized unequivocally that "if there's not a private sector component, there won't be a pipeline." Yet to date, no private company has expressed willingness to champion or finance the project, despite the federal government signaling openness to regulatory accommodations and policy support.

This absence of private-sector interest is not incidental—it is structural. The parallels to TMX are unmistakable. The last west-coast pipeline megaproject was abandoned by private investors, required direct federal acquisition, and ultimately cost taxpayers approximately $34 billion. For companies, these precedents underscore the complex regulatory landscape, litigation risks, Indigenous rights considerations, and escalating capital costs inherent in major pipeline construction in Canada.

B.C. Premier David Eby has underscored this point, warning that—as with TMX—federal subsidies would almost certainly be required, contradicting the MOU's central premise of private financing. The "private-sector proponent problem" therefore represents not a procedural hurdle but a potential fatal flaw in the MOU's economic logic.

The Pathways Alliance Carbon Capture Project: Financial Viability

The economic viability of the broader MOU framework is inseparable from the fate of the Pathways Alliance carbon capture and storage (CCS) project, envisioned as the world's largest integrated CCS network. Estimated at $16.5 billion, the network aims to capture and store emissions from multiple oil sands facilities. Yet even before construction, the financial uncertainties surrounding Pathways are substantial.

The Alliance initially requested that the federal government fund 75% of the capital cost—a level of public support far beyond what Ottawa was willing to provide. The federal government ultimately offered a 50% investment tax credit, supplemented by provincial incentives. However, independent analysis from the Institute for Energy Economics and Financial Analysis (IEEFA) has cast doubt on the project's long-term economic sustainability. According to analyst Mark Kalegha, the project is "likely to lose money without subsidies," suggesting that profitability depends on continued, large-scale government intervention.

Historical cost trends reinforce these concerns. Shell's Quest CCS facility has seen operating costs rise 118% since 2016, while the Alberta Carbon Trunk Line has experienced cost increases exceeding 60% since 2020. These patterns reflect broader global experience: CCS mega-projects routinely confront higher-than-expected capital expenditures, technological uncertainties, and limited revenue-generation pathways. Given these precedents, the Pathways Alliance may face escalating costs, prolonged delays, or renewed demands for public subsidies—developments that could destabilize the entire economic logic of the pipeline-CCS bargain underpinning the MOU.

British Columbia's Opposition


Premier Eby's Response

British Columbia Premier David Eby has emerged as one of the most forceful critics of the MOU. He has dismissed the proposed pipeline as a distraction from economically viable, strategically important projects already underway—such as LNG terminals, electrical transmission corridors, and major mining investments. Eby accused Alberta and Saskatchewan of negotiating pipeline terms with the federal government without B.C.'s involvement, calling this exclusion "unacceptable" and inconsistent with how any other province would be treated.

Despite his opposition, Eby has ruled out taking the federal government to court, noting the province's unsuccessful litigation against TMX. His stance reflects a pragmatic recognition that jurisdiction over interprovincial pipelines ultimately resides with the federal government. Yet his refusal to litigate should not be mistaken for tacit consent; rather, it signifies a shift from legal contestation to political resistance and narrative reframing.

The "Energy Vampire" Critique

Eby's depiction of the proposed pipeline as an "energy vampire" crystallizes his broader argument: the project threatens to drain finite political capital, federal attention, Indigenous governance capacity, and public resources away from economically viable projects that already have proponents, community support, and regulatory progress. He noted that Alberta is demanding the tanker ban be rescinded "without a single company" stepping forward to build the pipeline—a position Eby described as "bizarre."

B.C. currently has over $50 billion in mining projects and major LNG facilities moving toward final investment decisions. In Eby's view, devoting federal and Indigenous bandwidth to a hypothetical pipeline with no proponent, no route, and no evidence of consent could jeopardize real opportunities with tangible benefits.

Indigenous Rights and Coastal First Nations Opposition


Constitutional and Legal Foundations

The most decisive obstacle to the northern pipeline is the categorical rejection by Coastal First Nations (CFN). Marilyn Slett, president of Coastal First Nations–Great Bear Initiative and elected Chief of the Heiltsuk Nation, made the coalition's position unequivocally clear: they dismiss the MOU outright and maintain that the northern pipeline "will never be built." They insist the tanker ban is not negotiable and that Canada has both a domestic constitutional duty and an international legal obligation to seek their free, prior, and informed consent.

This position draws on both Section 35 of the Constitution Act, 1982—recognizing and affirming Aboriginal rights—and Canada's statutory commitment to implementing the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP). Coastal First Nations have thus positioned their opposition not as a bargaining stance but as a matter of rights, sovereignty, and cultural survival.

Rejection of Economic Partnership

Unlike some previous pipeline debates in which Indigenous equity partnerships helped secure support, Coastal First Nations have explicitly rejected any form of economic participation. Slett stated they have "zero interest" in co-owning or profiting from a project that threatens their way of life. Jason Alsop, president of the Council of Haida Nation, further emphasized the existential nature of the risk: "We will never allow oil tankers or this pipeline in our territory because of the risks to our culture, our way of life, and our self-sufficiency."

CFN leaders have pledged to use "every tool in our toolbox" to prevent the project's realization—including legal, political, and international avenues. This level of unified, principled opposition marks a fundamental break from past projects in which Indigenous engagement was ultimately negotiated.

The Environmental Risk Foundation

Environmental risk analysis forms the bedrock of Indigenous and regional opposition. The waters of B.C.'s north coast are among the most hazardous and ecologically sensitive in the world: narrow channels, unpredictable currents, frequent storms, and high biological productivity. The Great Bear Rainforest—through which a pipeline would likely pass—is a globally significant temperate rainforest whose marine and terrestrial ecosystems are tightly interlinked.

Heavy oil spills in such environments pose catastrophic, long-lasting consequences. Research on analogous ecosystems demonstrates that petroleum residues can persist in sediments for decades, undermining the full marine food web—including the fisheries, harvesting activities, and cultural practices core to Indigenous communities' identity and subsistence. The risk calculus is therefore not merely technical or economic but deeply cultural, ecological, and moral.

Steven Guilbeault's Resignation

The MOU triggered immediate and far-reaching political consequences within the Carney government. Within hours of its signing, former environment and climate change minister Steven Guilbeault resigned his cabinet post, denouncing the memorandum's development and substance. Guilbeault emphasized that the federal government had undertaken no meaningful consultation with Indigenous nations on the West Coast of British Columbia nor with the provincial government—an omission he framed as both a procedural failure and a profound breach of the principles of reconciliation.

In explaining his resignation, Guilbeault stated that "over the past few months, several elements of the climate action plan I worked on as minister of the environment have been, or are about to be, dismantled," citing the consumer carbon price, the electric vehicle sales mandate, the oil and gas emissions cap, and the framework for eliminating fossil fuel subsidies. He also condemned the federal decision to exempt Alberta from clean electricity regulations "in exchange for stricter industrial carbon pricing rules" and to advance the Pathways Alliance carbon capture project, which he characterized as "a serious mistake."

Guilbeault's departure is particularly significant because of his stature within both the Liberal Party and the Canadian environmental movement. A lifelong Quebec environmental activist and co-founder of Équiterre, he symbolizes the climate-focused faction of the Liberal coalition. His resignation signals an acute rupture between the party's economic pragmatists and its environmental advocates, raising questions about the long-term coherence of the government's climate agenda.

Broader Political Dynamics

The opposition seized on the ambiguity and extended timelines embedded within the MOU. Conservative Leader Pierre Poilievre, during a heated question period exchange, derided the agreement's lack of concrete commitments: "They don't know the year that construction will begin. They don't know the decade that construction will begin. Today's deal allows a proposal for a pipeline to go to an office in seven months, which will then be studied for two years, after which the prime minister will give a pipeline veto to the B.C. NDP premier, who's already said he's against it."

This critique underscores the political vulnerability inherent in an agreement that outlines a process while offering no guarantee of an outcome. The extensive consultation requirements, the multi-layered regulatory reviews, the absence of an Indigenous consent pathway, and the lack of a private proponent together suggest a project facing extraordinary political, economic, and constitutional hurdles. In this sense, Poilievre's critique resonates: the MOU may represent political symbolism rather than actionable infrastructure planning.

Climate Policy Implications


The Policy Fragmentation Risk

The MOU's exemptions for Alberta from federal clean-electricity regulations and the oil and gas emissions cap raise foundational concerns about the coherence and durability of Canada's national climate policy. Federal officials argue that a strengthened industrial carbon price and the Pathways CCS initiative could render a separate emissions cap unnecessary. Yet climate policy specialists and environmental organizations warn that allowing provinces to negotiate bespoke opt-outs could trigger a destabilizing precedent for national environmental governance.

If other provinces seek equivalent accommodations, Canada may face a "race to the bottom," where national standards become increasingly fragmented and climate commitments more difficult to meet. Such fragmentation would undermine Canada's ability to deliver on its Paris Agreement obligations and weaken the credibility of its climate leadership internationally.

The "Decarbonized Oil" Paradox

Prime Minister Carney has defended the MOU as enabling Canada to export "decarbonized oil" for decades, a characterization environmental critics dispute as scientifically misleading. While carbon capture may reduce emissions associated with extraction and processing, it does not address combustion emissions, which constitute the overwhelming majority of an oil barrel's climate impact.

Proponents argue that the Pathways plan could reduce emissions by about 12 million tonnes annually by 2030 and up to 62 million tonnes by 2050. Yet when paired with expanded pipeline capacity and increased oil production, the net impact may ultimately increase total emissions relative to a scenario without the pipeline or CCS project. This dynamic produces what critics call the "decarbonized oil paradox": a climate policy that reduces upstream emissions but facilitates greater downstream emissions overall.

Federalism and National Unity Considerations


The Alberta Perspective

From Alberta's standpoint, the MOU represents a long-sought federal recognition of the province's central role in Canada's energy future. Premier Danielle Smith stated, "In order for Alberta to find its way to prosperity within a united Canada, we need the federal government to partner with us instead of fighting against us. We both know that Canada can never reach its true potential as a global energy superpower without a strong and thriving Alberta energy sector at the center of that effort."

Smith further expressed hope that the agreement would weaken Alberta's separatist sentiment—an implicit acknowledgment that federal accommodation can mitigate separatist pressures. In this framing, the MOU functions as much as a national unity strategy as an energy policy instrument.

The British Columbia Counter-Narrative

British Columbia, however, interprets the MOU as an alarming precedent in which its environmental and constitutional interests are marginalized. Premier David Eby has emphasized that such unilateral federal-provincial bargaining "would not happen to any other province," underscoring the perception that B.C.'s interests were sacrificed in order to secure Alberta's cooperation.

The exclusion of B.C. from initial negotiations and the absence of consultation with the Coastal First Nations raise fundamental questions about the integrity of the cooperative federalism the agreement claims to exemplify. If federalism becomes a vehicle for accommodating one province at the expense of another, especially where Indigenous rights are implicated, the legitimacy of the model itself risks erosion.

Conclusion: Prospects and Implications

The November 27, 2025 Memorandum of Understanding between the Carney government and Alberta represents a highly ambitious attempt to reconcile economic development, climate action, and national unity. Yet its realization remains deeply uncertain due to structural, constitutional, economic, and political constraints.

First, the absence of a private proponent—despite unprecedented subsidies and concessions—suggests profound doubts about the project's economic viability. The Trans Mountain experience, in which Ottawa was compelled to assume full ownership, hints that similar public intervention may ultimately be required, directly contradicting the MOU's commitment to private financing.

Second, the principled and unified opposition of the Coastal First Nations constitutes perhaps the most formidable barrier to the pipeline's advancement. Unlike previous cases where Indigenous equity participation softened opposition, Coastal First Nations leaders have explicitly rejected partnership, framing their resistance in constitutional, cultural, and ecological terms that leave little room for compromise.

Third, the climate-policy implications of granting Alberta exemptions from national regulations raise foundational questions about the integrity of Canada's environmental governance. While the government contends that industrial carbon pricing and CCS investment offer equivalent emissions reductions, the systematic dismantling of nearly a decade of climate policy infrastructure — from the consumer carbon price to the electric vehicle mandate to the electricity sector's hard-won emissions reductions — suggests a fundamental retreat rather than a strategic recalibration. The absence of any comprehensive assessment demonstrating that this "new path" reaches the same climate destinations further undermines the government's claims.

Finally, the broader political dynamics—including B.C.'s exclusion from negotiations, the absence of an electoral mandate for these policy shifts, the lack of guaranteed outcomes, and the evident tensions within the Liberal Party—reinforce the impression that the MOU may serve more as political choreography than as a pathway to realizable infrastructure.

Whether the MOU ultimately leads to the construction of a new northwest export pipeline or remains an aspirational political document will hinge on several interdependent developments: the emergence of a private proponent, the trajectory of federal-provincial-Indigenous consultations, the outcome of the Pathways Alliance's final investment decision, and shifting geopolitical and economic pressures as Canada navigates its energy partnership with the United States.

What is certain, however, is that the MOU has crystallized deeper tensions in Canadian governance concerning the balance between economic development and environmental stewardship, the architecture of cooperative federalism, and the state's obligations to Indigenous peoples. These structural tensions will continue to shape Canada's energy and climate policy landscape long after the fate of this particular pipeline proposal is decided.