Canada needs to be indispensable to its Arctic allies
Canada needs to prepare for a world in which crises become more frequent and less contained, Samuel Didone argues in a new book called “Acting on Arctic Leverage”. By adopting a more security-conscious stance in the Far North, the Carney administration isn’t being alarmist, he writes; it is simply adjusting to the new geopolitical reality. Here is an extract from his book.
Canada cannot compete for global influence through scale. With a population of just 40 million spread across one of the largest geographic territories in the world, it lacks the industrial depth, fiscal capacity, and military mass required to project power in the same way as larger states.
The question, then, is not how Canada becomes dominant, but how it becomes an indispensable force. That means positioning itself inside systems that others rely on, so that the country’s contribution is not symbolic, but structurally necessary to the functioning of its allies — particularly within NATO and North American defence.
Canada should implement a four-part Arctic control system:
- Expand Arctic surveillance through radar and underwater drones.
- Establish Churchill as the primary Arctic export corridor.
- Implement a mandatory transit control regime in the Northwest Passage.
- Build a permanent western Arctic operations base in Tuktoyaktuk.
These four elements form a single system: Surveillance establishes awareness, Churchill concentrates movement, transit control structures that movement, and Tuktoyaktuk sustains it over time.
I’ve spent time thinking through a question that sounds simple, but isn’t: What should Canada actually be? Do we want to be feared? Do we want to be useful? Or do we want to be indispensable?
When you look at the numbers, the usual answers begin to fall apart. Canada spends about 2% of its GDP on defence — similar, in relative terms, to countries like the U.S., China, Japan, and much of Europe. But the issue is not simply how much we spend; it is what that spending produces within our constraints.
Canada does not have the population, industrial scale, or economic weight to force its way into global relevance, and it is unproductive to act as if we can. Our institutions operate within that reality.
Canada is not structured to sustain extreme military concentration. Nor is it positioned to project power across multiple theaters at once. And yet, Canadians still require a country that can secure its position — not out of vanity, but because it directly shapes our security, stabilizes our economy, and strengthens our leverage within an increasingly volatile international order.
That shifts the focus away from what looks impressive and toward what actually works. The conclusion that follows is straightforward: Canada does not need to be feared, and it cannot afford to be merely useful. It needs to be indispensable, a country embedded in the systems that matter, where its absence would weaken the ability of its allies — particularly within NATO — to operate effectively.
At the same time, hesitation toward that conclusion is understandable. For many Canadians, there is no immediate threat pressing against the country’s borders that demands rapid change. Canada shares a single land border with the U.S., its closest and most stable ally, and that relationship has historically reduced the perception of urgency in defence planning.
It is easy, in that context, to assume that maintaining current spending levels without a clearly defined strategic direction is sufficient. In a narrow sense, that assumption holds: Canada is not facing the same immediate pressures as other states. But it is also incomplete. It overlooks how the broader environment is changing. Over the past two decades, global conditions have not stabilized; they have become more volatile.
Conflicts are more frequent, control over key resources such as energy, food, and water is tightening, and public confidence across many societies is weakening. These shifts matter because security is not only about responding to immediate threats. It is about positioning within a system that is becoming less predictable over time. Ignoring that shift does not preserve stability — it increases exposure to it.
The relevant question, then, is not whether Canada faces a crisis today, but whether it is preparing for a world in which crises become more frequent and less contained. In that context, a more security-conscious posture is not alarmist; it reflects an adjustment to changing conditions.
The two AI-generated images above serve a specific purpose. They do not depict the current state of Canada’s North; they illustrate a potential that has not yet been realized.
In the first, vessels move through Arctic waters with direction and continuity, suggesting a corridor that has developed through repeated and organized use. In the second, that movement is supported by visible infrastructure and coordinated presence. Signals are transmitted, systems operate, and personnel are positioned within a functioning environment.
The flags represent coordination rather than symbolic control, and the individuals beneath them reflect an ongoing commitment to sustain that system. These images are not descriptive; they are directional. They represent what becomes possible when movement, control, and presence are aligned over time.
That alignment does not occur on its own. It depends on deliberate choices about where to build infrastructure, how to govern movement, and how to sustain a presence in a region that is becoming more accessible and more contested.
Canada ’s position in the Arctic will be shaped by how those choices are made and whether they are maintained over time. The purpose of my book is to clarify those decisions and to show how they connect.
Acting on Arctic leverage is not a single policy adjustment; it is a coordinated effort that requires alignment across institutions, regions, and communities. It depends on treating the Arctic as a domain that must be actively organized, rather than passively observed.
Canada’s Arctic position is becoming strategically important not only for security, but also for its potential role in global trade. As access improves, northern routes may shorten transit times to European markets — provided that those routes can be made commercially reliable.
This is not a new idea. What has changed is the pace at which other nations are beginning to act on it. Russian and Chinese activity in the region — through research, infrastructure investment, and long-term positioning — is already shaping the environment in which Canada must operate. The issue is not that Canada is absent; it is that its posture remains limited.
Without a defined direction, Canada risks responding to systems that others have already begun to establish. Passivity in areas of structural advantage carries real strategic cost. The Arctic presents one such area.
The task, therefore, is not simply to recognize that advantage, but to act on it in a way that produces sustained and visible direction over time.
Any opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of Arctic Today.
Samuel Didone is a Toronto-based Canadian graduate student in public policy whose research focuses on Arctic governance, northern infrastructure, trade corridors, and Canada’s long-term geopolitical position in the North. He is particularly interested in developing targeted, realistic investments that strengthen Canada’s footing in an increasingly active Arctic region.
