I recently returned from a stay in the Magdalen Islands in the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Behind the beauty of the landscapes lies a unique energy reality: both pragmatic and fragile.
A beautiful yet fragile archipelago
Energy on the Islands is still dominated by fossil fuels: diesel for boats and trucks, gasoline for cars, large marine diesel engines for the Cap-aux-Meules power plant, and heating oil for homes.
Two wind turbines punctuate the landscape. They symbolize a willingness to diversify, but also local resistance to change perceived as imposed “from the mainland”. Unlike Prince Edward Island, which I passed on the way to the ferry, I saw no solar panels in the Magdalen Islands. On PEI, solar panels are already visible in the landscape and part of everyday life, accentuating the contrast.
A local economy anchored in diesel
The Cap-aux-Meules plant runs on large 12 MW marine diesel engines. These are the same types of engines found in many power plants across Africa and other remote regions of the world: reliable, robust, but rigid. They cannot easily adjust to variations in wind power.
Maintaining them requires specialized mechanics, often trained in maritime trades. These stable jobs are essential in a local economy marked by the seasonality of tourism and fishing. Replacing diesel with renewables does not recreate the same job base. And that is the core dilemma: energy transition is not just about replacing megawatts, it must also work with existing economic and social structures.
Between renewables and network rigidity
Integrating renewables runs up against this reality. The two existing turbines produce electricity, but their contribution is constrained by the inflexible thermal fleet. The absence of residential or commercial solar reinforces the impression of a system locked in its traditional model, despite potential and inspiring examples elsewhere.
Hydro-Québec’s plan (June 2025)
Hydro-Québec recently announced a strategy to reshape the Islands’ energy supply:
- A new 16.8 MW wind farm on Grosse-Île, expected to cut diesel use by 40%.
- A residential and commercial solar program starting in 2026 (covering up to 50% of installation costs).
- A new low-carbon fuel power plant by 2035, designed to maintain local jobs.
- A $70M efficiency program, including widespread deployment of heat pumps.
This plan addresses social and technical constraints, but it isn’t very innovative. One might have hoped for more: experiments with storage, pilot microgrids, or bolder solutions like those seen in other islands.
Transport and heating: small but concrete steps
I saw a few electric cars. Like heat pumps, each replacement reduces imported fuel consumption and emissions, even if the electricity still comes mainly from fossil fuels. In a temperate climate, the efficiency gains are significant.
The Orkney contrast
Across the Atlantic, the Orkney Islands (Scotland) chose a different path: go big on renewables (wind, tidal, solar), then invent solutions to balance the grid with storage and green hydrogen. In the Magdalen Islands, the approach remains cautious and traditional: secure energy with a thermal base, and gradually add renewables. Two opposite logics, both valid in their respective contexts.
Madelinots facing climate change
Residents don’t need theory: they already live with climate impacts. Coastal erosion is everywhere, entire homes are protected by rock armouring, and the disappearance of sea ice worsens winter storms. Their carbon footprint is tiny, but their vulnerability immense.
Houses protected by a rock wall
A universal contrast: pragmatism vs idealism
This contrast between pragmatism (Michael Liebreich) and idealism (Greta Thunberg) is not unique to the Islands. It is found everywhere the transition threatens established practices or entrenched orders. Think of Alberta: facing climate-driven wildfires, yet still dependent on oil exploitation.
Conclusion – Politics as the art of the possible
From the mainland, the contradictions seem obvious: acknowledging climate change while relying on diesel. But the Islands’ energy transition must be built with, and for, their residents.
Hydro-Québec’s strategy charts a pragmatic course: diversify supply, cut emissions, and preserve local jobs. Yet for a territory so exposed and symbolic, perhaps more boldness was needed.