Opinion

Canada’s nature strategy needs science and transparency, not spending cuts

Canada’s nature strategy needs science and transparency, not spending cuts

The recent launch of a federal nature strategy signals an ambitious commitment to protecting biodiversity. But planned spending cuts across most federal departments threaten to undermine that goal.

These cuts will either shutter or decimate scientific programs in agriculture, ecotoxicology, fisheries and beyond, eroding the capacity needed to deliver on the strategy, and raising serious concerns about how these decisions were made.

The absence of minister-specific mandate letters is compounded by a lack of communication about how cuts are being enacted within departments. Many departments are expected to cut their spending by 15 per cent in the coming years, including Environment and Climate Change, Fisheries and Oceans, and Agriculture and Agri-food. Protecting biodiversity requires more than targets on paper. It depends on sustained investment in three pillars of scientific capacity: long-term monitoring, scientific expertise and recovery infrastructure.

All three are now at risk.

If Canada is serious about its nature strategy, it must reconsider these cuts and commit to greater transparency in future decisions, writes Jayme Lewthwaite. Handout photograph

The first pillar at risk is long-term monitoring. These cuts will decimate programs such as the wildlife ecotoxicology program at Environment and Climate Change Canada that provide early warnings of ecological disasters, leaving this country blind to emerging environmental threats. For decades, federal scientists have monitored contaminants across Canada using indicators like waterbird eggs to track dangerous pollutants. The current cuts will leave entire regions without scientists to maintain these long-term datasets, particularly on the east and west coasts. Therefore, regulators will lose the capacity to act before environmental and human health risks escalate into full-blown crises. Cuts to similar programs, including Pacific salmon monitoring in British Columbia, mean Canada may no longer detect population declines until it is too late. Without sustained monitoring, we are forced into a reactive (and costlier) approach to conservation, directly at odds with the preventive vision of the nature strategy.

The second pillar is scientific expertise: the people and institutions that generate and interpret the data needed for decision-making. Here, too, the losses are profound. The Diptera unit within the Canadian National Collections of Insects, Arachnids, and Nematodes, responsible for identifying fly species, faces defunding. This expertise underpins our ability to detect invasive species, monitor disease vectors, and understand ecosystem function. Cuts to the Canada Centre for Mapping and Earth Observation will weaken the country’s ability to track large-scale environmental change, including Arctic sea ice loss. Reduced federal research capacity also limits access to critical datasets and training opportunities for students, constraining the next generation of Canadian scientists.

The third pillar is recovery. Programs designed to prevent extinction are at risk. The Atlantic Salmon Live Gene Bank program, which safeguards the genetic diversity of endangered Inner Bay of Fundy salmon, is one such example. By maintaining captive populations, it acts as a biological insurance policy. The planned closure of two Department of Fisheries and Oceans facilities that support this work removes one of the few remaining tools to prevent permanent loss. A nature strategy that aims to protect biodiversity cannot afford to dismantle the programs that make recovery feasible.

These cuts also have broader implications for economic resilience. Agriculture and Agri-Food Canada is closing several research stations focused on improving crop sustainability and climate resilience, work that supports domestic food production. As Canada relies heavily on the United States for inputs such as pesticides and fertilizers, reducing this capacity deepens the vulnerabilities the nature strategy seeks to address.

Perhaps most concerning is the lack of transparency. Scientific programs are built over decades through sustained investment and specialized expertise. When they disappear, rebuilding that capacity can take years or even generations, if it is possible at all.

Yet, Canadians have heard little about how these programs were evaluated, what alternatives were considered, or how their loss will be mitigated. Decisions of this magnitude should involve clear justification and meaningful consultation with scientists, provinces, Indigenous rights-holders, and the public.

The nature strategy aspires to “build a stronger, more independent, and more sustainable country.” But a strategy developed alongside the erosion of scientific capacity cannot deliver on that promise. Protecting biodiversity requires more than commitments on paper; it depends on sustained investment in the monitoring, expertise, and recovery programs that make those commitments achievable.

If Canada is serious about its nature strategy, it must reconsider these cuts and commit to greater transparency in future decisions. Otherwise, it risks confronting a fundamental question: how can a country protect what it is no longer equipped to measure or even understand?

William Bugg, Sara Cannon, Mark Louie Lopez and Gideon Mordecai also co-authored this piece. All of the authors are past and present Liber Ero Postdoctoral Fellows. The Liber Ero Fellowship Program is one of Canada’s most prestigious and competitive postdoctoral awards, supporting exceptional early-career scientists whose work addresses pressing conservation and management challenges relevant to Canada. The authors work on issues surrounding fisheries management, species-at-risk legislation, ecosystem monitoring, agricultural sustainability, and many more.

The Hill Times