The terms consult, consent, and veto have become central to tensions over agreements being negotiated by the current NDP government because they represent a fundamental shift in how British Columbia makes decisions about land and resources.
The Evolution of These Terms
1. Consult (The Old Standard)
- Prior to 2019, the main legal requirement was the duty to consult Indigenous groups.
- This came from Supreme Court of Canada decisions (especially Haida Nation v. British Columbia, 2004).
- It was a procedural duty: the government had to consult Indigenous peoples and try to accommodate their concerns when decisions might affect their rights or title.
- Importantly, consultation did not require agreement. The Crown could still make the final decision even if Indigenous groups objected.
2. Consent (A New Standard)
- In 2019, B.C. passed the Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples Act (DRIPA), which committed the province to aligning its laws with the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP).
- UNDRIP (Article 32) calls for free, prior and informed consent (often shortened to FPIC or just “consent”) before approving projects that affect Indigenous lands, territories, or resources.
- Unlike “consult,” consent implies that Indigenous approval is required — or at least that projects cannot proceed without it.
- In practice, B.C. has been implementing this through agreements that require Indigenous “consent” for certain decisions (e.g., the Eskay Creek mine was the first major project approved under a consent-based model).
3. Veto (The Loaded Term)
- “Veto” is not a formal legal term in Canadian law.
- However, critics (including industry groups and some politicians) argue that requiring “consent” effectively creates a de facto veto — meaning a project cannot go ahead if the Indigenous group withholds consent.
- Supporters of the new approach reject the word “veto.” They describe it instead as shared decision-making or consent-based decision-making, arguing it reflects reconciliation and respects Indigenous jurisdiction.
How This Applies to the Tahltan Situation
As of mid-2026 the Tahltan Foundation Agreement represents one of the most advanced applications of this new “consent” model in B.C. It moves beyond project-by-project consent (like Eskay Creek) toward embedding consent-based decision-making across a large geographic area covering much of the Golden Triangle.
This shift is why the stakes feel so high:
- Under the old “consult” model, the province retained final say.
- Under the emerging “consent” model, the Tahltan (and other nations through similar agreements) gain significant power to approve, modify, or block development — even on Crown land.
In short, the story behind these terms is the transition from consultation (where the Crown could still decide) to consent (where Indigenous groups have much stronger decision-making power), and the heated debate over whether this new standard amounts to an effective veto over major resource development in British Columbia.
Here’s the honest breakdown:
Legally:
- There is no formal “Indigenous veto” recognized in Canadian constitutional law.
- The Crown retains ultimate sovereignty under the current legal framework.
In practice (especially under DRIPA agreements):
- When an agreement states that a project or decision requires Indigenous consent, then the project cannot legally proceed without that consent.
- This is exactly what happened with the Eskay Creek mine — it was explicitly approved under a consent-based model. Without Tahltan consent, the project would not have gone ahead.
- The same logic applies more broadly under the Tahltan Foundation Agreement: consent-based decision-making is being embedded across a large territory. If the Tahltan withhold consent on major developments or land-use decisions, those projects are effectively blocked.
Why the government avoids the word “veto”
They prefer terms like:
- “Consent-based decision-making”
- “Shared decision-making”
- “Implementing UNDRIP”
These sound more collaborative and less confrontational. Calling it a veto would make it politically harder to defend, as it would clearly signal that the province is giving up final decision-making authority on Crown land to Indigenous governments.
Bottom line
Yes — in functional terms, the consent model does give Indigenous groups veto power over projects and decisions covered by these agreements. Refusing to call it a veto is mostly a matter of political framing, not a meaningful legal or practical distinction.
The real debate isn’t whether it functions as a veto — it largely does — but whether this transfer of power is justified as reconciliation or whether it improperly fragments the province’s ability to manage its resources in the broader public interest.