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Is the Northern economy in recession? Sly variations of this question seem to work their way into a surprising number of conversations I’ve had lately.
Recession being defined as “a significant decline in economic activity that lasts for months or even years,” according to Forbes.
The other day, flying home alone across the central barrens in a little ski-plane at 7,500 feet, an odd realization struck me: of course the North is in a recession — I can hear it on the radio! Or more precisely, I can hear it by what I am not hearing on the radio.
The radio being not Cabin or CBC, CKLB or Moose FM. The radio that tells me plainly that the North is in “a significant, widespread, and prolonged economic downturn” is the Air Traffic VHF, tuned to the common frequency used by all flyers in Canada: 126.7 megahertz.
It was a bright day in late April. Below my path of flight was the mind-boggling expanse of snow-covered tundra and ice-covered lakes. Off to the distant south was treeline and the dark scrim of the forest. My thoughts wandered back across the many years I’ve been lucky enough to criss-cross that area, low and slow in little airplanes.
As the miles and landmarks ticked past, I recalled the days of Chuck Fipke, Norm’s Camp, and Koala (which became Ekati), and A154 (which became Diavik), and Kennady Lake (which became Gahcho Kue). Then there's the plethora of smaller camps and characters and flash-in-the-pan fiascos scattered through that vast landscape and that humming period of activity: Circle K, Nose Lake, Munn Lake, Bob Camp, Salmita, Jericho, Rockinghorse, Izok, High Lake, and on and on down the list. Oh, and the outfitting and hunting camps – Mackay, Whitewolf, Humpy Lake, Little Marten, Desteffany, and on and on, another long list.
Not that many years ago, on a flight routing like mine, the VFR traffic channel would have been a non-stop chatter of announcements. Helicopters flitting in and out of sampling and drill sites; Twin Otters on skis with supplies and crews and tourists; smaller airplanes humming here and there on surveys, sampling jobs, and monitoring. It got so noisy at times on the radio channel that some of us turned it down now and then, just to get a few moments of peace and quiet. (Gasp!)
The other day, though, what was striking was the radio silence. Nobody was going anywhere, low and slow and VFR; nobody was buzzing around, trying to make enough announcements to keep clear of each other. I checked the squelch knob a few times to be sure I had not turned the volume down. Nope. I heard an ATR or a Boeing going into and out of Goose Lake, Canadian North coming south from Cambridge Bay, and a Dash 7 into Gahcho Kue. The bigger planes were going to a handful of established operations. Nobody was out rattling around trying to start up anything new.
Don’t get me wrong. I am no cheerleader for unbridled development. The 'small is beautiful' motto of E.F. Schumacher has always been more my cup of coffee. I am a hardened skeptic (not to say cynic) about such smoke-and-mirror, house-of-cards entities as the stock market and “venture capitalists.” I have always cringed at the odd fact that the vaunted economic driver of the NWT over the past two or three decades has been, in a word, bling. Sparkly bracelets, engagement rings, and necklaces.
“An entire industry built on the hopes of rich men looking for love,” as a geologist friend of mine put it years ago as we flew around taking sand samples off the eskers.
This is a new era in the North, when it comes to development. There are stringent rules, and it appears they are mostly being followed. On that same flight the other day, I flew past the remnants of the Snap Lake mine. I had to circle to have a better look, because there is literally almost nothing there now. An entire mine complex has come into being, operated, shut down, and now it's nearly completely cleaned up — all in a matter of less than 30 years. This is a new thing under the sun, and soon we will see it again at Diavik. There is such a thing as regulated development, and there are viable forms of economic activity. Eco-tourism is a form of development, and so is the mining of useful minerals.
Northerners would do well to remember the adage that a rising tide floats all boats.
Another thing I hear more and more often is that the North has become adept at saying no to almost everything except sacks of cash, to be somehow rained down from the sky. Michael Miltenberger reminded us recently in these pages that we now have a territory where over half the workforce is employed by some level of government. This ratio does not a healthy economy make.
As for the R word, folks, we’re already there. You can hear it on the radio at 126.7 megahertz each and every day, as soon as you get 10 miles out of Yellowknife. As they liked to say in the old cowboy movies, “Sure is quiet. Yeah. Too quiet.”
—Dave Olesen lives on McLeod Bay of Great Slave Lake. Together with his wife Kristen, he operates a small bush-flying business. Dave posts random monthly "musings" at bushedpilotblog.ca
