Updated Lead — August 21, 2026
The Crofton pulp mill closure in December 2025 eliminated around 350 jobs. Domtar cited poor pulp pricing and limited access to affordable fibre — a phrase that has become shorthand for the pressures facing BC’s forest sector. The company acknowledged the hardship for employees, the Cowichan Valley community, business partners, and the coastal forest sector, while noting it would explore future options for the site.
Crofton’s shutdown followed West Fraser Timber’s announcement that it was permanently closing its 100 Mile House lumber mill at the end of 2025, cutting 165 jobs.
And now, the closure of Canfor’s Northwood Pulp Mill in Prince George sent shockwaves through the restoration sector. The Western Forestry Contractors’ Association (WFCA) — the businesses that plant trees, thin forests, reduce wildfire fuel, and restore damaged landscapes — warns that the loss of manufacturing capacity is undermining the restoration economy.
BC once planted 240–260 million trees annually until 2018, then surged past 300 million between 2020 and 2024. But this year, planting has dropped to around 230 million, largely because less land is being harvested. Fewer logs mean fewer residuals, fewer replanting obligations, and fewer contracts for restoration crews. The WFCA warns that wildfire recovery alone could require double or triple current reforestation funding if catastrophic fires continue.
Industry leaders echo the frustration. Kim Haakstad, president of the BC Council of Forest Industries, says the consequences of government inaction are unfolding in real time. While softwood lumber duties add pressure, she argues that not everything can be blamed on trade disputes. The core issues are predictable wood supply and a competitive regulatory environment. Without those, mills close — and once they close, they rarely reopen.
Parmar noted that the Crofton mill “has anchored Vancouver Island’s economy for generations.” Its loss will affect workers, contractors, truckers, loggers, and local businesses — especially heading into the holidays. The minister pledged to explore opportunities to preserve forestry jobs. But BC’s forestry professionals have heard similar promises before, and many are quietly asking whether the profession still has a future in the province.
The pressures on BC’s forestry sector are cumulative: shrinking fibre supply due to past over‑cutting, wildfires, and beetle infestations; trade pressures from U.S. duties and tariffs; regulatory delays that make harvesting unpredictable; market shifts reducing demand for pulp and paper; and political indecision that leaves industry without a clear path forward.
For the WFCA, the stakes are structural. Without mills, restoration becomes a theoretical exercise. Without fibre buyers, thinning becomes unaffordable. Without a stable land base, tree planting becomes sporadic. And without a functioning forest economy, the next generation of forestry professionals may decide BC is no longer the place to practice their craft.
The Biomass That Got Away
For years, scientists, contractors, and policy analysts have noted that BC holds one of the largest untapped biomass reserves in North America. Other jurisdictions — Scandinavia, the Baltics, parts of the U.S. — built biomass industries out of far less material. BC, meanwhile, has struggled to convert this resource into a stable energy or economic sector.
The irony is clear: mills close because they “can’t access affordable fibre,” while millions of tonnes of usable biomass sit in the forest. Restoration crews generate biomass daily — thinning stands, reducing wildfire fuel, cleaning up post‑fire landscapes — and in a more coordinated system, that material could support a renewable energy industry. Instead, it often ends up in piles awaiting disposal.
A biomass industry could have cushioned the blow of mill closures, diversified rural economies, and given restoration contractors a stable market for the fibre they produce. It could have turned deadfall into paycheques, slash piles into energy security, and wildfire debris into climate‑friendly fuel. Instead, BC has spent decades debating permits, regulatory bottlenecks, and land‑use plans while the raw material for a renewable energy sector remains underused.
A province with this much fibre shouldn’t be running out of options. Yet here we are — staring at the biomass that got away, still waiting for someone to recognize that the solution has been lying on the forest floor the whole time.
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