How Canada squandered its most valuable national asset
At the height of U.S.-Canada tariff tensions in early 2025, Ontario Premier Doug Ford famously threatened to cut off Canadian electricity exports to the United States.
“If the United States escalates, I will not hesitate to shut the electricity off completely,” Ford told a press conference. He added that he felt “terrible for the American people” in such a scenario, but that his hand would be forced.
There was once a time when the prospect of such a thing would have been devastating to millions of American homeowners. The sudden removal of Canada’s brawny reserves of hydro and nuclear power would have plunged whole states into brownout, if not total darkness. Consumers would be forced into mandatory rationing as U.S. utilities desperately stoked coal furnaces and dialed up backup turbines to compensate.
But apparently unbeknownst to Ford, that was no longer even close to true. At the time his threat was made, less than one per cent of U.S. electricity still came from Canada, and there were days when Canada emerged as a net importer of American power. Severing the electrical links between the two countries wouldn’t have been noticed.
The economic story of Canada’s last 20 years is replete with missed opportunities, particularly when it comes to energy. Canada failed to export its oil to anyone except the U.S., leaving it vulnerable to U.S. trade shocks. Canada dawdled on LNG infrastructure, leaving it unable to capitalize on Europe’s and Asia’s newfound thirst for the fuel.
Eclipsing all of those is arguably what Canada did to its single largest competitive advantage. For much of the 20th century, Canada’s defining economic trait was abundant, cheap electricity.
Canadians pioneered much of the technology needed to pull electricity from rivers or uranium, including the CANDU nuclear reactor and high-voltage transmission lines. Whole global industries — most notably the energy-intensive aluminum sector — were dominated by Canada for no other reason than that we had the excess power to run them.
Everywhere from Quebec to B.C., Canada’s muscular electricity sector was a point of national pride. In the 1960s, the Quebec Liberal party printed posters of a clenched fist holding bolts of lightning as a symbol of the province’s hydroelectricity sector.
But now, at the precise moment that electricity is becoming one of the world’s most consequential commodities, Canada is barely able to keep its own lights on.
The U.K.-based Energy Institute releases a Statistical Review of World Energy each year, and from these figures it’s possible to track the world’s countries by their rate of per-capita electrical generation.
Canada, virtually alone among developed countries, has been in decline on this metric for much of the last 30 years, with the indicator taking a noticeable dive in just the last decade.
In 1995, the average Canadian lived in a country where their personal share of national electrical generation was 18,937 kilowatt-hours (kWh). As of the last count in 2024, it’s now at 16,023 kWh.
Over the same period, the average citizen of China has seen their share of electrical generation go from 825 kWh to 7,107 kWh, a more than 800 per cent increase.
In practice, this is now yielding scenarios that would have been inconceivable by the standards of the mid-20th century.
Just this week, two Canadian provinces came close to being plunged into rolling blackouts amid record-low temperatures.
New Brunswick Premier Susan Holt announced that if her province hadn’t been running all its power plants at maximum capacity, the neighbouring provinces of P.E.I. and Nova Scotia would have suffered potentially deadly outages. “It’s NB Power that’s providing the bit of surplus power that we had to Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island and other places,” said Holt.
As to how this happened, the basic answer is that Canada stopped building dams, nuclear plants and other major, baseload sources of electricity.
The last new nuclear reactor installed in Canada was an expansion to the Darlington Nuclear Generating Station in Ontario that opened in 1993.
The hydroelectric dams being opened in recent years — all of which have faced significant delays and opposition from environmentalists — generate a fraction of the power churned out by their legacy forebears. B.C.’s recently inaugurated Site C, for instance, is expected to produce 580 megawatts (MW) of electricity. Compare that to B.C.’s Mica Dam, first opened in 1973, which has a capacity more than five times higher at 2,805 MW.
And this remains the general picture for the foreseeable future. As recently as November, the Canada Energy Regulator announced that the vast majority of planned Canadian electrical infrastructure was either solar or wind; technologies that both lack the raw strength and reliability of legacy Canadian power plants.
Among the “near-term developments” charted by the regulator, there were 6,206 MW of new wind projects, 2,337 MW of new solar and just 202 MW of new hydroelectricity.
At the same time, Canada has been prescribing increasingly elaborate demands on its legacy power plants. This ranges from adding several thousand new EVs each month and a significant increase to immigration, to “clean electricity” regulations mandating the closure of auxiliary and backup plants employing fossil fuels.
It all means that just as Canadian policy-makers are pondering an energy-intensive future of AI and electrically powered transportation, federal figures are just now starting to show that Canada is experiencing the unprecedented phenomenon of being a net importer of U.S. electricity.
As recently as August 2022, data maintained by the Canada Energy Regulator showed that Canada had sent a net total of $700 million in electricity to the United States; an average of $23 million in electricity exports per day.
As of the most recent tally, in November 2025, the money was going in the other direction; that month, Canada purchased a net total of $90 million in U.S. electricity.