A dump truck works near an oil sands extraction facility near Fort McMurray, Alta. on June 1, 2014.JASON FRANSON/The Canadian Press
Kevin Yin is a contributing columnist for The Globe and Mail and an economics doctoral student at the University of California, Berkeley.
Donald Trump’s threats have spurred a wave of Canadian solidarity, with boycotts of U.S. goods and widespread support for retaliatory tariffs. Canadians have taken to social media to show they are buying made-in-Canada groceries, the Premier of Nova Scotia announced American liquor would be taken off the shelves and the expected drop in travel to the U.S. could mean billions redirected to Canadian tourism. But what has been an inspiring defence of our national dignity is also a discouraging reminder of how little we are willing to give up to cut carbon emissions.
At this point, one has to acknowledge that the people have essentially spoken with regard to the carbon tax. Even its diehard advocates can recognize it will probably not survive the next election. Defending the carbon price nowadays is less like taking a stand and more like playing the violin as the Titanic sinks. But by juxtaposing our willingness to sacrifice for country with our apparent unwillingness to sacrifice for the ozone layer, perhaps a person or two may be convinced that consumer carbon pricing is not the devil they thought it was.
Whether we are cutting our spending on American goods or cutting spending on carbon-intensive goods, we are giving something up. We are choosing to use less, or to use something other than what we originally wanted, because we believe in the broader social objective that this choice serves. Before the United States went haywire, there was a reason many people purchased their favourite brand of smartphone or laundry detergent from U.S.-based companies. There was a reason why some people flew to Orlando in the winter instead of to Quebec City, as beautiful as the latter is. It was because they wanted those things more.
By changing these habits, Canadians have shown they are willing to pay – and admirably so – either an explicitly higher price under tariffs or the implicitly higher cost of choosing a less desirable alternative in order to stand up for Canada.
What is strange is that this was precisely what consumer carbon pricing was asking of us. The objective was different, but surely no less important. From a consumer’s perspective, a tax on carbon consumption works a lot like a tariff on U.S. imports or a boycott. The only differences are which goods get more expensive (explicitly or implicitly), and that Canadians have decried the former while accepting the latter. Retaliation and unity are the right choices against a belligerent neighbour. But given the largely symbolic nature of boycotts and the uncertainty around import tariffs, it’s not clear why we don’t care just as much, if not more, about a carbon price whose effectiveness is better established. If we can avoid flights to Florida because of Mr. Trump’s rhetoric, why can’t we avoid flights to Florida to prevent global warming?
The leftover industrial carbon price that will likely survive the political fallout is not the same because it is a tax on producers. The risk with supply-side solutions like this is that foreign companies, which do not produce in Canada and thus don’t face the same carbon prices, will rush in to fill the void because, ultimately, our demand for carbon-intensive goods is still high. Demand for these products, just like demand for American products, is why there is money to be earned making them. We understand this when we boycott in response to Mr. Trump’s aggression: We don’t want to put cash in the hands of his allies as he undermines our national interest. But our double standard with regard to carbon pricing shows we either don’t understand this reasoning in that context, or we simply don’t value cutting our emissions.
We, the consumers, are the ultimate cause of our emissions, so our choices determine the rest. If the oil and gas companies all stopped pumping tomorrow, there would be an outcry of demand and someone, likely abroad, would meet that request. If we all stopped demanding oil and gas tomorrow, there would simply be no more use of it in Canada. Canadians have shown grit in denying Mr. Trump a tepid response – perhaps some day in the future we can show that same grit in preserving the planet.