In Quebec, conversations about sovereignty never fully disappear. They evolve, recede and re-emerge generation after generation. Today, as conversations about separation gain traction in Alberta, Canada finds itself asking familiar questions about what holds the country together. 

I understand these tensions personally. I was born and raised in Quebec and came of age in the years following the 1995 referendum. Had I been old enough to vote at the time, I may well have supported sovereignty as a means of protecting and preserving Quebec’s distinct culture. Quebec’s nationhood is real, historically grounded and deserving of protection. For me, the question is not whether Quebec constitutes a nation, but whether political sovereignty is the only, or even the best, framework through which that nation can flourish.

Over time, I have come to see that shared public infrastructure and civic systems need not diminish local cultures or identities. At their best, they create opportunities to preserve them, express them and share them across regions and communities. 

The early 1990s, when the prospect of Quebec separation dominated national conversation, provide a case study. Regional tensions felt defining and Canadians openly questioned whether the federation could endure in its existing form.

And yet, during that same period, another project began to take shape. The Trans Canada Trail was founded in 1992 by Pierre Camu (a Quebecer who headed national organizations including the Royal Canadian Geographic Society and the Canadian Radio-television and Telecommunications Commission) and Bill Pratt (an Albertan businessman awarded the Order of Canada for his contributions to both the Olympics and sport). At a moment when national unity was challenged, they focused on connection, founding a trail that would eventually reach every province and territory and connect all three coastlines.

Camu and Pratt understood that large and diverse federations rely not only on constitutional arrangements, but also on shared systems and spaces that allow people to participate in common public life across geography, income and identity. Canadians need opportunities to engage with and understand each other, but if provincial separation takes place, some of the physical infrastructure that supports connection and unity will be fragmented. If that happens, we should expect two important losses.

The first is the erosion of shared civic experience and, over time, the weakening of national identity. Independent states can and do cooperate successfully, but political fragmentation introduces negotiation and duplication into experiences that Canadians often take for granted – the train ride between Montreal and Ottawa, vacations in Alberta’s national parks or travelling freely across provincial borders to visit family.

The loss of these common experiences is cumulative. As fewer shared spaces and systems remain in their current border-free form, Canadians have fewer opportunities to encounter and understand one another. Shared national infrastructure need not erase distinct identities; in many cases, it creates platforms through which different cultures and communities can encounter one another. Canada once understood major infrastructure as nation-building: think of the railways, national parks and public broadcasting systems that were designed not only to enable movement or communication, but to create a shared framework that connected people across distance and difference. Conversations about separation, however, tend to evaluate infrastructure primarily through productivity, supply and efficiency. That approach overlooks infrastructure’s civic role in shaping how people access and experience the country itself.

Second, shared public infrastructure is more important than ever, precisely because of our economic environment. Affordability pressures are limiting access to private or commercial alternatives. As the cost of living rises, Canadians rely more on free or low-cost public systems for mobility, recreation, health and connection to nature. Some recent decisions respond to this reality like free access to recreation and tourism opportunities. Other decisions reflect something more grim; like the increased cost of camping in British Columbia – not to pinch pennies, but because economic pressure is high, even for those in the decision-making seat.

These pieces of shared public infrastructure – parks, trails, bridges or seaways – provide access regardless of income. When they are strong, they support health, well-being, connection to nature and economic activity, regardless of individual or community income. When public infrastructure weakens – through increased cost or major disruptions to connection – the opportunity for accessible, affordable access to shared spaces, and the benefits they provide, ceases to exist. 

More than thirty years after Quebec went to the polls for a referendum, Canadians are once again debating the merits of separation.

If one were to imagine a future in which Alberta or Quebec – or both – were no longer part of the same federation, the consequences would extend beyond political institutions and fiscal arrangements. They would be visible in the fragmentation of systems and spaces that were designed to function as a connected whole. Even something seemingly neutral, like a national trail network, would no longer represent continuity across geography and communities, but a series of disconnected segments.

The Trans Canada Trail is only one example, but it illustrates a broader point. National cohesion depends on the public systems and infrastructure that allow people to move, interact and participate in shared civic life. When those systems are fragmented a country’s unity could fragment as well, and that comes at a steep price.

Mathieu Roy is chief executive officer of Trans Canada Trail. He is a professional engineer with the Order of Engineers of Quebec and former entrepreneur in the environmental sector.