British Columbia Premier David Eby has been caught in yet another controversy involving the transfer of public land to First Nations, and the public apparently was not supposed to know what was being negotiated. Confidential government documents revealed plans involving approximately 400 parcels of Crown land, along with proposed changes to the Forest Act that would reduce compensation to forestry companies losing their timber rights. The documents emerged just days before British Columbia’s October 24 election.
Eby’s government has forced forestry companies to sign nondisclosure agreements to examine proposed changes affecting their own operations. Eby insists that the transfers fulfill existing treaty and reconciliation commitments and that reducing compensation would save taxpayers money. But since when does saving money justify changing the rules for property and resource rights behind closed doors? The government cannot simply announce that an obligation is too expensive and decide that somebody else should absorb the cost.
Companies could receive no compensation when less than 5% of their existing logging rights were transferred. Imagine running a business, investing in equipment, employing workers, and making long-term commitments based on rights granted by the government, only to discover that the same government wants to reduce or eliminate compensation when those rights are withdrawn. This is how political uncertainty destroys investment.
British Columbia has been down this road before. In 2024, Eby’s government attempted to amend the Land Act to expand shared decision-making over Crown land with First Nations. The proposal generated such opposition that the government abandoned it. Then came the Shíshálh agreement involving approximately six square kilometres of public land and $104 million, followed by the Haida agreement recognizing Aboriginal title over Haida Gwaii. These arrangements involve different legal histories and obligations, and Indigenous title rights cannot simply be dismissed. Nevertheless, the public deserves to understand precisely what is being transferred, how existing rights will be protected, and what the long-term financial consequences will be. The secrecy surrounding these negotiations has become an issue in its own right.
I addressed this growing property rights controversy in my 2026 Canadian Report, particularly the Cowichan land dispute and the uncertainty surrounding land ownership in British Columbia. Property rights are the foundation of investment and economic development. If people cannot determine whether the rights they purchase, inherit, or develop will remain secure, the value of those assets becomes increasingly uncertain. Banks must consider the enforceability of collateral, businesses must reassess long-term investments, and homeowners begin questioning the security of what is often their largest financial asset. There are important legal distinctions between privately owned property, Crown land, Indigenous title, and forestry tenures. But those distinctions make transparency more necessary, not less.
British Columbia is already struggling with the consequences of high housing costs, weak investment incentives, and pressure on its resource industries. Forestry is not some insignificant business that politicians can casually sacrifice for political purposes. It supports employment, transportation, manufacturing, and communities that depend upon access to timber. Eby’s government claims that reducing compensation protects taxpayers, but forcing private businesses to absorb losses does not eliminate the economic cost. It merely transfers that cost to another part of society.
There is a broader issue here that extends well beyond British Columbia. Canada possesses enormous natural resources, yet its political establishment has repeatedly made those resources more difficult to develop. Alberta has fought Ottawa over energy policy and federal interference, while British Columbia has created its own obstacles to investment in forestry, mining, and infrastructure. Governments continually promise economic growth while undermining the legal certainty and confidence necessary to attract capital. They seem to believe that resources will somehow produce tax revenue regardless of how many restrictions, political negotiations, and regulatory burdens they impose upon the industries responsible for developing them.
The situation becomes even more revealing when we look at Alberta. Albertans have just voted against pursuing separation from Canada, with approximately 75% choosing to remain in the federation. Mark Carney is celebrating this as a victory for national unity, but the underlying grievances have not magically disappeared. Alberta remains an energy producing province that has repeatedly clashed with Ottawa over resource development, taxation, and environmental regulation.
Canada is heading toward an increasingly serious confrontation over property rights, resource ownership, and the authority of government. British Columbia cannot expect businesses to invest billions while threatening to change the terms under which those investments were made. Alberta has chosen to remain, but the frustrations that produced the separatist movement are still there. Eby’s land controversy is another example of why confidence in government is deteriorating. Once people begin to question whether their property and contractual rights will be respected, the damage extends far beyond any single land transfer. Capital will simply look elsewhere.
A government should never become so accustomed to exercising authority that it forgets whom it is supposed to represent. The Canadian people have every right to know what is being negotiated over their land, resources, and economic future before decisions become effectively irreversible.