You’ve probably heard the headlines: “Trudeau buys pipeline,” “Government doubles down on oil,” “Climate goals in jeopardy.” But what did they actually acquire? Why? And more importantly—what on earth were they thinking?
Trans Mountain: Not Just a Pipe in the Ground
The Trans Mountain pipeline isn’t some newfangled concept cooked up in an Ottawa basement. It’s been around since 1953—older than Medicare in Canada—snaking 1,150 kilometers from Edmonton, Alberta, to Burnaby, British Columbia. Originally built by Texas-based Kinder Morgan, it carried around 300,000 barrels per day of crude and refined products. Modest by today’s standards, sure. But it mattered. It still does.
What Trudeau bought wasn’t just the physical pipeline. He bought the expansion project, too—the Trans Mountain Expansion Project (TMX), which aimed to triple capacity to 890,000 barrels daily. That’s roughly a million bathtubs of oil every day. And yes, that changes everything.
The federal government didn’t want to be in the pipeline business. That’s not their day job. But Kinder Morgan was walking away in 2018, spooked by regulatory delays and fierce opposition in B.C. The company had invested $1.1 billion and still backed out. So Ottawa stepped in—not because they love oil, but because they feared economic chaos. The problem is, no one was happy: environmentalists saw betrayal, oil patch workers saw hesitation, and British Columbians wondered why their coastline was being risked for Alberta’s gain.
A 718-kilometer extension with 153 river crossings
This isn’t a minor tweak. The expansion adds nearly 200 new pump stations, storage tanks the size of soccer fields, and a marine terminal that will increase tanker traffic from 5 to 34 per month. That’s a 580% jump in oil tankers navigating the Salish Sea—a sensitive ecosystem home to endangered southern resident killer whales.
The route crosses unceded Indigenous territories—Wet’suwet’en, Tsleil-Waututh, Squamish—many of which never consented. And that’s where the legal and moral tangle deepens. Because even if permits were issued, even if courts upheld them, consent isn’t the same as approval. And we’re far from it.
Why buy a pipeline when the world is going electric?
Let’s be clear about this: Canada isn’t abandoning oil tomorrow. We exported $135 billion in crude in 2022. Alberta alone accounts for 80% of national production. You can’t wish that away with a climate speech. The issue remains—Canada produces more oil than its pipelines can carry. Which explains why Western Canadian Select (WCS), our heavy crude, often trades at a $20–$30 discount compared to U.S. benchmarks. That’s money lost. Jobs affected. Entire communities on edge.
So the purchase was, in part, economic triage. But because oil prices are volatile—remember $20 a barrel in 2020?—the bet is risky. And that’s before factoring in net-zero pledges by 2050.
How the .5 billion deal actually went down
Kinder Morgan wasn’t being bought out of kindness. They set a May 31, 2018 deadline. No regulatory certainty? We’re out. Ottawa had weeks to decide. The Trudeau government didn’t hesitate—they offered $4.4 billion CAD, later adjusted to $4.5 billion. The deal closed on August 31, 2018. And that single move split the country in two.
This was not a private acquisition. Taxpayers footed the bill. But the plan? Finish the expansion—budgeted at $12.6 billion originally—and then sell the whole operation, ideally at a profit. Except that didn’t pan out. By 2023, the cost had ballooned to $34 billion. Yes, you read that right: 34 billion taxpayer dollars. That’s enough to fund the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation for 68 years. Or build 170 new hospitals.
And yet, the government insists it’s still a sound investment. Their argument? Long-term revenue from tolls, and eventual resale value. But with climate litigation rising and banks pulling back from fossil projects, who exactly will want to buy it in 2030? Or 2040?
Funding the unfundable: cost overruns and delays
Initial estimates were laughably optimistic. $5.4 billion for construction? That was 2013 money. By 2020, it jumped to $12.6 billion. Then $18 billion. Then $30 billion. Now $34 billion. That’s a 526% increase. For comparison, the Chunnel between England and France cost 300% over budget—and that was considered a disaster.
Delays? Eight years behind schedule. The line was meant to open in 2020. Now it’s slated for late 2023 or early 2024. But because weather, legal appeals, and protests keep happening, even that’s shaky. And each month of delay adds another $100 million in financing costs. You do the math.
A government acting like a private equity firm
It’s surreal, really. A liberal government—championing carbon taxes, climate accords, green energy—suddenly playing CEO of Canada’s largest oil infrastructure. They created a Crown corporation, Trans Mountain Corporation, to run it. Hired engineers, lawyers, lobbyists. And yes, even PR teams to manage the optics. It’s a bit like a vegan opening a steakhouse “for strategic reasons.”
But because the alternative was total pipeline collapse and economic fallout in Alberta, they pushed forward. The question isn’t whether it made short-term sense. It’s whether it makes long-term sense in a decarbonizing world.
Trans Mountain vs Keystone XL: A tale of two pipelines
Compare this to Keystone XL—another Alberta-to-U.S. project, backed by TC Energy. That one was 1,900 kilometers long, designed to carry 830,000 barrels daily to Nebraska. Sounds bigger, right? But the U.S. killed it in 2021. President Biden revoked the permit on day three of his term. Canada fumed. Alberta called it a betrayal.
Yet here’s the irony: Trudeau killed the Energy East pipeline in 2017—meant to carry oil to New Brunswick—citing environmental concerns. Then bought Trans Mountain months later. So he killed one, bought another. That’s not hypocrisy. That’s politics. But it does make people wonder where the consistency is.
Keystone had cross-border complications. Trans Mountain is domestic—except for the tankers leaving Canadian waters. And that’s the catch. Both faced Indigenous resistance. Both were climate lightning rods. But only one had a government willing to go all-in. That was TMX.
Environmental impact: One spill away from disaster?
The National Energy Board once said the risk of a major spill was “low.” But low isn’t zero. And in ecologically sensitive zones like Burrard Inlet, even a small spill could be catastrophic. The 2007 Nathan E. Stewart ferry disaster in Heiltsuk territory spilled just 110,000 liters of fuel—and devastated the local economy for years.
Now imagine 890,000 barrels of diluted bitumen floating in those waters. Bitumen sinks. It’s harder to clean. And it’s toxic. The Tsleil-Waututh Nation calls it “sacred water.” You don’t risk sacred things for a pipeline.
Frequently Asked Questions
Did Trudeau really say he’d never buy the pipeline?
Yes. Back in 2017, he said, “I’m not going to buy a pipeline.” Then he did. People don’t think about this enough—the difference between campaign rhetoric and governing reality. He later clarified: “I said I wouldn’t build it. I never said I wouldn’t buy it.” A semantic dodge? Maybe. But that’s politics.
And that’s how you get whiplash.
Will the pipeline ever turn a profit?
Honestly, it is unclear. At $34 billion, the breakeven point is sky-high. Even at full capacity, tolls might not cover costs for decades. And if global oil demand peaks by 2030—as IEA predicts—the asset could become a stranded liability. Which raises a dark question: are we building a dinosaur and calling it progress?
Who benefits from the Trans Mountain pipeline?
Alberta’s oil producers, mainly. Companies like Suncor, Cenovus, and Imperial Oil will finally have reliable access to global markets—especially in Asia, where prices are higher. British Columbia? Not so much. They get more tankers, more risk, and a fraction of the jobs. And Indigenous communities? Some signed benefit agreements—$450 million in revenue sharing, 3,000+ Indigenous hires. But others remain fiercely opposed. So the gains are deeply uneven.
The Bottom Line
I find this overrated as a long-term solution. Yes, the Trans Mountain purchase prevented short-term economic pain. Yes, it gave Alberta a lifeline. But betting $34 billion on a world that’s rapidly moving away from fossil fuels? That’s not foresight. That’s gambling. And the house always wins—except when it’s taxpayers holding the bag.
We’re not going to drill our way to a green future. But we can’t shut down today’s economy either. The real failure isn’t the purchase—it’s the lack of a coherent energy transition plan. Because right now, we’re stuck: too dependent on oil to quit, too aware of climate to keep going.
So what now? Finish the pipeline. Monitor it like a newborn. Tax carbon harder. Invest windfalls—yes, if there are any—into renewables, grid modernization, and worker retraining. And next time? Maybe don’t wait until the last minute to have this conversation.
Because eventually, the oil will run out. Or the planet will force us to stop. Either way, we’ll wish we’d started sooner.