Canada’s renewed focus on Arctic security has led to lots of comparisons with Russia’s Arctic posture - usually to Canada’s disadvantage.
But these comparisons tend to ignore some key realities. I want to break some of that down. 🧵
Canada and Russia have fundamentally different relationships with the Arctic.
That’s because of three primary factors:
- Physical geography
- Proximity to economic centres
- Strategic alternatives
First, the Arctic’s physical geography.
North of Canada’s main landmass is a dense archipelago - nearly 100 large islands (and thousands of small ones) with narrow channels in between.
Russia’s Arctic is mostly a single, contiguous, coastline with a few scattered islands.
In warm waters, barrier islands are a benefit - creating sheltered routes for ships.
In the Arctic? They trap ice.
Sea ice around Canada piles into massive ridges in winter - impassable to even the heaviest icebreakers - and lingers longer into summer.
The result is that Russia has a longer natural Arctic shipping season into, out of, and through its Arctic regions than Canada does. And it’s easier for them to extend this season through the use of icebreakers, making some routes viable year-round.
This difference in shipping seasons matters.
Sea shipping is by far the lowest cost way to move goods. It’s hard to be economically competitive without it.
So easier Arctic shipping means more trade, and more trade drives development.
The second key difference is how accessible the Arctic is from each country’s economic centre.
Russia’s main economic centres - Moscow and St. Petersburg, with a combined population of ~18 million - are both under 1,300km from Arctic-facing ports like Severodvinsk.
Canada by contrast has one “Arctic” port: Churchill.
But its closest major city, also ~1300km away, is Winnipeg (Pop. ~800k), and Churchill is still 1,000km from the Arctic Circle.
To get truly Arctic you’re looking at Tuktoyaktuk. Closest city of size? Whitehorse (Pop. ~30k).
What this means is that Russia can move goods from its economic heartland into the Arctic more easily and more cheaply.
And thanks to better shipping conditions, those goods can actually go somewhere - whether to other parts of Russia’s Arctic or to be traded with other nations.
The third difference can be easy to overlook, but is at least as important as the first two:
Strategic alternatives.
Canada has other options. Russia does not.
Canada is blessed with some of the best natural, ice-free, harbours in the world on both its East and West coasts. Vancouver, Halifax, Prince Rupert and Saint John are all contenders to be among the 10 best natural harbours anywhere - all opening directly into the High Seas.
Canada also has the Great Lakes–St. Lawrence Seaway: not ice-free, but is the farthest inland navigable waterway on Earth, and cuts through Canada’s industrial heartland on its way to vast interior resources.
Bottom line: Canada doesn’t need to ship through the Arctic.
Russia’s situation is very different.
Russia’s best Western ports—St. Petersburg and Novorossiysk—are stuck in inland seas (the Baltic and Black seas, respectively), bottlenecked by potentially unfriendly powers.
Meanwhile, Russia’s Eastern ports are thousands of kilometers from where most industry is and, even then, connect to the Sea of Japan - the exits from which are controlled by another potentially unfriendly power.
That leaves only the Arctic as an unthreatened route.
What this difference in other strategic options means is that the two countries don’t need access to the Arctic in the same ways.
For Canada, Arctic access is valuable.
For Russia, Arctic access is existential.
This leads to differences in how the two countries invest in the Arctic.
For example: Canada is often criticized for not “keeping up” with Russia’s icebreaker fleet.
But the incentives justifying Russia’s fleet - both economic and strategic - simply don’t exist for Canada.
Similarly, Canada is sometimes criticized for not investing in nuclear powered icebreakers as Russia does.
However, Russia’s geography requires its icebreakers to remain in the Arctic year-round, where keeping them fueled is logistically difficult and expensive.
Canada, meanwhile, mostly needs icebreakers in the Arctic when they can plausibly facilitate shipping - when other ships are able to operate there. This means Canada’s icebreakers travel back and forth between the Arctic and ice-free ports and tend to winter farther South.
Similar logic applies to Russia’s greater investment in Arctic military facilities, and industry.
But, again, that reflects necessity - not, necessarily, advantage.
But this doesn’t just cut one way.
Canada’s in-construction pair of Polar-class icebreakers will exceed the ice-breaking capability of any ship Russia operates—including its nuclear-powered icebreakers.
Why?
Because Canada faces thicker, harder ice, closer to home more often.
That’s Canada’s necessity.
The crux of this is that when we compare Canada to Russia in the Arctic - militarily, economically, logistically - we need to remember:
They’re not playing the same game.
And they don’t need the Arctic in the same way.
Canada's Arctic policies shouldn't copy Russia's. They should reflect its own geography, economy, and strategic needs.
Different challenges. Different opportunities. Different countries.
/fin
Thanks for reading this thread!
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Canada’s 4 existing submarines are all over 30 years old and in need of replacement.
While some comments from the (former) PM implied nuclear powered (SSN) submarines were a replacement option, it’s been confirmed only non-nuclear (SSK) boats are being considered. Why is this?🧵
It is a fact that nuclear submarines have real advantages that matter to Canada. This includes the range & speed needed to reach the maritime chokepoints of potential adversaries and have a strategic impact, and the endurance to patrol at length under the ice of Canada’s Arctic.
These facts have caused Canada to seriously consider the acquisition of SSNs on several occasions. In the late 1950s, there was a strong push from the Royal Canadian Navy to acquire an SSN fleet. They even got as far as recommending a class, the US Navy’s Skipjack-class.
The Royal Canadian Navy retired its last aircraft carrier, HMCS Bonaventure, over half a century ago.
Despite calls based on nostalgia and national pride to revive this capability, we've (rightly) never seriously considered reacquiring one.
I think that may need to change.🧵
To address the elephant in the room: Aircraft Carriers are badass.
It's easy to *want* the RCN to acquire them for no other reason than that. It's also easy to dismiss arguments for them on the assumption they're shallow.
To avoid that trap, let's start by going back to basics:
The traditional purpose of Navies is to protect your own (or threaten another) nation's trade.
Trade is what makes nations prosperous. Maritime ships are the most efficient way to trade. This was true in antiquity and it's true today - when ~70% of world trade is maritime based.
With the next deadline for US tariffs approaching, and Trump's rhetorical justification increasingly focused on annexation, I thought it might be interesting to explore why Canada is a really poor - almost uniquely poor - choice to try to economically blackmail.
Enjoy!
🧵
Before we get too far over our skis, I want to emphasize: America does have the power to harm Canada and Canadians economically.
The actions Trump's foreshadowed do have the power (within limits) to make Canadians poorer.
But they don't have the power to force annexation.
The reason for this is that poverty, at least on the scale America can inflict on Canada with economic means, doesn't have the power to destroy nations.
The tool needed for that is starvation. As long as your people have enough to eat, they can thumb their noses at the world.
With the F-35 and the Gripen both, seemingly, back in consideration for the RCAF - I thought it might be interesting to talk through what the capability difference between the two aircraft might actually mean in practical terms to a country like Canada. 🧵
Right away, let's clarify so there's no doubt: The F-35 is a significantly more capable aircraft.
Once a fully functional aircraft with an appropriate ordnance load-out is off the ground, there are very few missions where the Gripen is more likely to achieve success than a F-35.
That is not to say that there is *nothing* the Gripen does better than the F-35. It's just that, if you think through an entire mission profile, you would almost always expect the F-35's advantages to be decisive before the Gripen's advantages matter.