The many treaties signed by the Canadian government and Indigenous peoples cover the right to fish, hunt, trade, and live on traditional lands. Some cover the earth to the depth of a plow, or the air within a particular area. What about spectrum broadwave, the frequencies used by broadband internet? Do they not fill the air, and fall under the language of a treaty signed centuries ago?

In New Zealand, the Maori people have argued that their treaties do include the right to a significant portion of unused internet frequencies over their lands, a right that wasn’t discussed in the 1840 Treaty of Waitangi, but nonetheless holds sway with the country’s courts. Before the Maori, Indigenous peoples in Mexico made similar arguments to their country’s court system, with success. Denise Williams, CEO of the First Nations Technology Council, first heard about the concept of spectrum as a treaty right at a meeting of the Internet Society in Hawaii last year. 

Including spectrum under the legal concept of Aboriginal rights and title in Canada would offer digital empowerment above and beyond the basic internet access Indigenous advocates like Williams have demanded for years. “We have no access to spectrum currently,” she says. “We’re just customers. We’re customers in a market-driven model that is not designed to achieve equity and isn’t organized to include us in any conversation.” Granting spectrum rights would allow Indigenous peoples the ability to set up their own internet service providers (ISPs), perhaps rent out unused spectrum to settler Canadians like a mainstream telecom, or even give their own people free access. It would allow Indigenous communities to thrive in the digital ecosystem. 

Except this idea, bold as it may seem, might not happen under Williams’ watch. The First Nations Technology Council’s funding is running out and, unless a miracle happens, will be forced to close its doors at the end of 2020. There are other Indigenous tech leaders across Canada, not to mention digital equity organizations such as OpenMedia that fight for reliable connectivity for everyone living in this country. The loss of the Council would still represent a loss for Indigenous-led efforts to not only balance out historical inequities within our nation’s internet system by securing the same connectivity as other Canadians, but also advance bold self-determination projects like the inclusion of spectrum as an integral part of timeless Aboriginal title rights. 

Launched in 2002, the First Nations Technology Council operates under a broad and demanding mandate. British Columbia has 203 First Nations communities with their own governance structures, traditions, and problems. Williams says their mission is to ensure all of these communities have equitable and affordable access to digital technologies, can participate in B.C.’s technology and innovation sectors, and build their own local digital economies. This happens through a lens Williams calls the Indigenous framework for innovation and technology. “How can we bring together all levels of government, academia, industry to the table — along with Indigenous peoples — to figure out community-centred design?” she says. “And to have a conversation that’s more long term about how Indigenous peoples want to see more digitally connected technologies in their lives, in their communities, and in their bodies?”

Community-centred design is not a new or unique concept, but the Council’s incorporation of traditional Indigenous concepts, such as imagining the impact of a decision to those living seven generations into the future, isn’t found in many conversations about digital connectivity. Williams says the point of the Council is to ensure Indigenous peoples have a seat at the table when planning digital developments and expanding Canada’s tech workforce. Indigenous peoples only represent 1 percent of B.C. tech workers, according to the Council’s labour market data. But boosting these numbers is a chicken-and-egg problem. 

“We started really centred on the digital skills development piece,” Williams says. A 12-week digital foundations course typically offered in-person offers training on administrative software (think Microsoft Office), GIS and GPS systems for positional work, and network setup. (As the COVID-19 pandemic makes physical classes impossible, the Council is mailing out laptops to students to allow for remote learning). The Council even holds a drone training program aimed at Indigenous land stewardship efforts. “But over the years, what we realized is that if we’re going to be of service to our participants and our communities, there’s all these other missing pieces,” Williams says. 

For instance, what happens when newly-graduated Indigenous students try and start careers in their communities? Internet infrastructure in Indigenous communities is infamously bad. In 2017, 97 percent of urban Canadians had access to an internet connection speed considered by the federal government to be an acceptable minimum — 50 megabits per second download speed and 10 megabits per second upload speed. Only 37 percent of rural Canadians had this 50/10 connection. Just 24 percent of Indigenous communities fit the government minimum standard. In order to build an Indigenous-led tech sector, the Council needed to get involved in advocacy. But Williams says the Council initially had a hard time convincing the government and tech sector that Indigenous communities had connectivity issues. So the Council also began collecting data on access and tech labour market issues. 

“I think the First Nations Technology Council could literally be comprised of hundreds of people to do all of this work,” Williams says, from skills building to data collection. “That’s our dream — to mobilize something that’s quite comprehensive in B.C. that can even be of use nationally.” The Council manages to do all of this work with a core administrative staff of roughly 20, with dozens of others working on Indigenous innovation, instruction, and partnerships. And Williams has had to say goodbye to a few of them in recent months as the Council draws closer and closer to a final deadline. 

Funding the Council’s operations and programs has largely depended on money from Employment and Social Development Canada, as well as funds through Western Economic Diversification, another federal department aimed at boosting business development in Western Canada. Williams says the Council secured a total of between $8 and $9 million in grants over the past 4 years. Yet they’ve also faced some significant challenges. Only 6 percent of the federal government’s contribution agreement for the last four years has been for administrative costs. 

The issues started during the days of Prime Minister Stephen Harper’s government. In the early 2010s, Williams says, the federal government stopped funding a variety of non-profits, including the First Nations Technology Council. When she first joined the Council in 2012 as director of operations and business development, Williams was able to draft a strategic plan in between completing her MBA at Simon Fraser University. Eventually, she was able to secure some funding from Employment and Social Development Canada (ESDC) and save the Council from closure. “It was enough that we could bootstrap it to this place where we have anywhere between 15 and 20 employees,” Williams says. “But those were four-year contribution agreements. And that’s coming to an end on March 31st.”

ESDC declined to renew their latest contribution agreement. While the Council can apply again for funding, Williams says the entire process could take two years. Technically, the Council also has Western Economic Development funding, but Williams says that department operates on a reimbursement model. “You’re spending money and then they reimburse it every quarter,” she explains. “So unless you have other money coming in from governments, you can’t necessarily run large-scale programs because you’ll just go into debt.” 

Philanthropic support likely won’t help. According to Williams, the Council does not currently have charitable status, meaning they aren’t a qualified donee. They’re applying for it right now, but she says that process could also take several years. Williams and her team will also soon be launching a public campaign that asks Council supporters to write to B.C. Premier John Horgan or their local MLA. In the meantime, watching the clock tick down is tough, to put it lightly. “It will be incredibly difficult for me,” she says. “I’ve spent ten years on this and building the organization. It will be really, really hard to let go.”

Williams doesn’t believe she’ll be leaving the space anytime soon. Her background extends from technological innovation and Indigenous advocacy to government, venture capital, and policy. In May, she became an activator with SheEO, a program that supports women-led ventures all over the globe. She will almost certainly pop up elsewhere. “I don’t believe it is the right time to close the First Nations Technology Council. I think it’s never been so important and critical. I think we’ve never had so much momentum and so much capacity,” she says. “I think this is the exact right time to accelerate as an organization.”

“I don’t believe it is the right time to close the First Nations Technology Council. I think it’s never been so important and critical.”

The Council’s closure wouldn’t just mean the loss of training programs for Indigenous people across B.C., or labour market data specific to Indigenous communities, or advocacy efforts to bridge the yawning digital divide with settlers. Reconciliation is as much about giving Indigenous peoples the capacity for self-determination as it is righting historical wrongs. When Williams initially approached Indigenous and Northern Affairs Canada about moving spectrum under Aboriginal rights and title, they told her that their focus at the moment is on ensuring safe drinking water for First Nations communities. 

Williams says INAC told her that improving internet access is “aspiration,” something she disagrees with. The principles of the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, a longstanding UN policy that B.C. recently ratified, calls for Indigenous peoples around the globe to have access to not only equitable health and education services, but also sovereignty. “This isn’t another program area,” Williams says of expanding internet access. “It’s a cross-cutting foundational effort. If we invest in this and focus on it now, I think we’ll see an acceleration of all those program areas of UNDRIP and the advancement of Indigenous people’s sovereignty in this country.” 

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