Mismatches in salmon social–ecological systems: Challenges and opportunities for (re)alignment in the Skeena River watershed

Mismatches between institutions and social–ecological systems (SESs), often termed institutional mismatches or problems of fit, are a major sustainability challenge in natural resource management (Young 2002; Cash et al. 2006; Cumming et al. 2006; Folke et al. 2007; Galaz et al. 2008; Epstein et al. 2015). Institutions often fail to match the diversity of local settings and the complexity of the ecosystems with which they interact (Holling and Meffe 1996; Young 2002; Wilson 2006). When the scales of social organization and environmental variation are mismatched, problems can arise in either the institutions that are responsible for management and (or) the ecological systems that are being managed (Young 2002; Cumming et al. 2006). For example, fishing quotas based on the utilitarian concept of maximum sustainable yield can often be mismatched with the natural dynamics of fish populations they exploit which can undermine the resilience of the biological system and result in depleted fisheries (Acheson and Wilson 1996). These kinds of mismatches can be difficult to respond to and, if unaddressed, can degrade SESs either through disruption of function, inefficiencies in the system, and (or) simplification through the loss of important system components (Cumming et al. 2006; Galaz et al. 2008; Young 2002). Addressing and resolving problems of fit are therefore critical to the sustainable management of natural resources and the well-being of the diverse cultures and communities they support.

Salmon-based SESs (Fig. 1) are ubiquitous across western North America (Yoshiyama 1999; Muckle 2007). As an ecological keystone species, Pacific salmon (Oncorhynchus spp.) influence myriad species serving as a direct food source for more than 40 species of vertebrates including other salmon, trout, birds, and mammals (Willson and Halupka 1995; Gende et al. 2002; Garibaldi and Turner 2004; Galbreath et al. 2014). Salmon are also important drivers of nutrient and energy flows (Bilby et al. 1998; Cederholm et al. 1999) increasing production at all levels of the food chain, from bacteria and algae communities to top predators, such as bears (Hilderbrand et al. 1999; Hocking and Reynolds 2011; Walsh et al. 2020).

In addition to their ecological role, salmon also provide provisioning, cultural, and supporting services to local communities. For more than 10,000 years, salmon have shaped the traditions, cultures, spiritual practices, and governance systems of Indigenous Peoples on Canada’s North Pacific Coast (Newell 1993; Trosper 2003; Garibaldi and Turner 2004; Vining and Cristancho 2004; Nabhan 2006; Muckle 2007; Alfred 2009; Cuerrier et al. 2015; Noble et al. 2016). Specific locales for harvesting salmon have been used by Indigenous Peoples for millennia creating a deep sense of place and reinforcing a strong cultural and spiritual connection with the land (Garibaldi and Turner 2004; Cuerrier et al. 2015). These fishing sites provide a focal point for culturally significant events, ceremonies, and intergenerational teachings about the natural world (Garibaldi and Turner 2004; Vining and Cristancho 2004). This deep cultural knowledge of salmon and sustainable management practices has been shared and passed down through generations and laid the foundation for Indigenous governance and decision-making (Turner et al. 2000; Trosper 2002; Johnsen 2009; Atlas et al. 2020).

Archeological records suggest that pre-colonial Indigenous societies sustainably managed local salmon ecosystems (Trosper 2002; Johnsen 2009; Campbell and Butler 2010). While Indigenous Peoples had the means to deplete local salmon resources and to even cause their extinction (Mathews and Turner 2017), traditional Indigenous governance systems evolved in ways that helped to maintain healthy and productive salmon populations, thus strengthening social–ecological fit (Anderson 2016; Trosper 2002, 2003; Mathews and Turner 2017; Atlas et al. 2020). The salmon SESs of western North America are therefore often cited as model examples of resilient SESs based on their ability to buffer environmental disturbances, self-organize, and learn (Trosper 2002, 2003; Campbell and Butler 2010; Atlas et al. 2020).

Yet, despite being recognized as a model of resilient SESs (Trosper 2002; Campbell and Butler 2010), their long-term sustainability is increasingly uncertain. Salmon SESs face a growing number of threats including declining salmon populations (Gustafson et al. 2007; Malick and Cox 2016; Price et al. 2017), habitat loss and degradation, and anthropogenic climate change (Crozier et al. 2021). Threats to the sustainability of salmon SESs are particularly acute in the Skeena River watershed, Canada’s second-largest salmon-producing river. Across the Skeena, many salmon populations are now at a fraction of their historical abundance (Price et al. 2019) leading to curtailed salmon fisheries and contributing to economic hardship and food insecurity for local communities. Indigenous communities throughout the Skeena River watershed have identified mismatches between environmental governance institutions and salmon SESs as a key threat to the long-term sustainability of the system (Moore et al. 2015b). Yet, while mismatches are hypothesized to negatively affect the sustainability of the Skeena salmon SES, there is a limited understanding of the mechanisms through which institutional mismatches arise, how they affect salmon SESs, and what is required to overcome them (Cash et al. 2006; Cumming et al. 2006).

In this paper, I describe the changing landscape of environmental decision-making in the Skeena River watershed and explore how these changes give rise to mismatches between colonial environmental governance institutions, in the form of Canadian federal environmental assessments (EAs), and salmon SESs. Using the long-established SES of Indigenous Peoples (i.e., First Nations) on Canada’s North Pacific Coast and salmon ecosystems, I identify the sources of institutional mismatch and their consequences for the salmon SES, including impacts on Indigenous Peoples’ rights, livelihoods, and approaches to resource management and stewardship. I conclude with recommendations on how to remedy mismatches and improve the fit between salmon SESs and environmental governance institutions, including ways in which Indigenous governance, management systems, and knowledge can offer pathways to sustainability. While this research focuses on a case study of the Skeena River watershed, the findings may be generalizable to other salmon SESs where mismatches between environmental governance institutions and salmon SESs are generating conflict and tension over environmental decisions.

In traditional Indigenous societies, the management and harvest of salmon were placed-based, with management decisions governed locally (Turner et al. 2000; Berkes 2012). In northwestern British Columbia, Canada, including the Skeena and Nass River watersheds, governance was typically organized through a series of Wilps or houses headed by individual titleholders or chiefs (Trosper 2002; King 2004). Each individual Wilp exercised jurisdiction over a unique territory and their Wilp members on issues such as access, succession, protection of land and resources for future generations, and affirmation of authority and responsibility over their territory. Titleholders were responsible for preserving the function and integrity of all lands and resources belonging to the Wilp, including salmon, and for ensuring the continued prosperity of their community by properly managing the resources under their control. Management strategies were informed by the experiences of community members who fished the same sites year after year and had intimate knowledge of local salmon populations. The traditional ecological knowledge accrued from generations of engagement with salmon has allowed Indigenous Peoples to devise management strategies and rules that protect salmon habitat and sensitive life stages and to minimize the risks of overharvest and population collapse (Turner et al. 2000; Berkes 2012; Atlas et al. 2020). These rules shaped Indigenous laws which in turn have shaped the structure and organization of Indigenous systems of governance and management (Atlas et al. 2020).

Until nearly the end of the nineteenth century, Indigenous Peoples on Canada’s North Pacific Coast were sovereign nations left to regulate their resource-based cultures and economies with little interference from settlers or their governments (Trosper 2002; King 2004). When European explorers arrived in the mid- to late 1700s, First Nations had well-established institutions that governed their relationship with their ancestral lands and resources (Turner et al. 2000; Trosper 2003; King 2004; Liu et al. 2007; Menzies and Butler 2007; Turner and Turner 2007). However, as increasing numbers of explorers settled along the coast of western North America, the traditional political and economic systems of Indigenous Peoples became increasingly destabilized (Newell 1993; Alfred 2009; Mccreary and Milligan 2021). Colonial acts of dispossession and assimilation stripped Indigenous Peoples of land, severed access to salmon fisheries (Harris 2001; Silver et al. 2022), and disposed them of the political, cultural, and socioeconomic responsibility to govern according to their traditional laws. Over time, long-standing systems of Indigenous natural resource management were dismantled and replaced with state-led systems of resource management (Adams et al. 2014; Atlas et al. 2020). This transformation fundamentally altered the scales of decision-making, with decisions related to natural resources use and management now made by centralized management agencies often located thousands of kilometers away from the affected communities and the SESs they are part of (Cash et al. 2006; Adams et al. 2014; Atlas et al. 2020). This shift toward centralized systems of resource management has decoupled local resource users from management decisions, limiting the ability of local knowledge and values to influence decision-making processes (Holling and Meffe 1996; Atlas et al. 2020). This profound transformation in the scale of governance institutions brought on by colonization has led to mismatches between colonial institutions and locally evolved Indigenous institutions.

In colonial natural resource management systems, many decisions related to the use of natural resources are informed by EAs. Defined broadly, EAs are processes used by decision-makers to assess and predict the ecological, social, health, and economic impacts of proposed development and industrial activities (Cashmore et al. 2004; Clarke Murray et al. 2018). EAs are intended to provide decision-makers with information to facilitate better, and more informed, decisions about trade-offs associated with a proposed human activity. In Canada, the federal government undertakes its own EAs for projects that fall under the jurisdiction of the Canadian Impact Assessment Act 2019. Provinces and territories also have their own EA acts, which cover provincial/territorial responsibilities, and which vary widely in nature and scope. Some Indigenous government have developed their own EA processes, largely in response to their exclusion as decision-makers in state-led EA processes (Usher 2000; Manuel and Derrickson 2015; Eckert et al. 2020).

In modern day Canada, jurisdiction is divided between federal, provincial/territorial, and Indigenous governments. Indigenous rights and title are recognized through Section 35 of the Canadian Constitution Act (Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, 1982) and, in many cases, through legal treaties. Section 35 clearly outlines the Government of Canada’s fiduciary obligations to consult with Indigenous communities whose traditional lands are subject to industrial development. Supreme Court decisions issued over the past several decades (e.g., Delgamuukw v British Columbia 1997; Tsilhqot’in Nation v British Columbia 2014) have further affirmed existing Indigenous inherent and treaty rights to land and water resources and clarified the jurisdictional and decision-making aspects of Aboriginal title and Indigenous governance rights. While modern Canadian case law has set important legal precedents for recognizing treaty and unceded title rights of Indigenous Nations, these rulings have not fully resolved issues around the role of Indigenous governments in environmental decision-making or provided guidance on how provincial/territorial and federal environmental decision-making processes might adapt to the new reality. As such, there remains a glaring disparity between the Indigenous rights won in court, the human rights commitments made by Canada on the international stage (e.g., United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples), and the translation of these commitments and legal precedents in environmental decision-making policies and processes.

Most studies of institutional fit focus on one of three types of fit: ecological, social, and social–ecological. Ecological fit considers whether institutions match the core features of the ecological systems with which they interact (Folke et al. 2007; Galaz et al. 2008; Young et al. 2008). In contrast, social fit considers the congruence between institutions and the preferences, values, and needs of human actors (Olsson et al. 2007; Meek 2013). Social–ecological fit is the least well-defined and often involves identifying the contextual attributes of SESs that contribute to, or detract from, the sustainability of interlinked SESs (Epstein et al. 2015).

To evaluate the extent to which Canadian federal EAs are compatible with the Skeena salmon SES, I utilized a framework of institutional fit developed by Epstein et al. (2015). Specifically, I examined the social and ecological attributes of the SES that give rise to problems of fit focusing on three commonly considered ecological dimensions – spatial, temporal, and functional (Table 1) and three social dimensions – spatial, participation, and values/interests/beliefs (Table 2). Given the well-known challenges associated with examining social–ecological fit (e.g., difficulty identifying all of the contextual attributes of the SES that may be affecting institutional performance; Agrawal 2003; Poteete et al. 2010; Epstein et al. 2014), I considered the social and ecological dimensions of fit separately while recognizing the inherent interplay between these two dimensions in fundamentally interlinked SESs.

The perspective I share in this paper has been informed by both the literature and my personal experiences. My personal experiences include working as a practitioner for a non-governmental organization on Skeena salmon-related issues for the past 15 years including observing several Canadian federal EA processes. As a scholar-practitioner and as a non-Indigenous author, I have attempted to reflect critically on my positionality during the writing of this paper. I recognize that my perspective is inextricably tied to my experiences working as a non-Indigenous Euro-Canadian scholar and practitioner and with that comes inherent biases and perceptions that reflect the privilege that I have been afforded as a non-Indigenous scholar. While I have tried to suspend biases based on my experience as a white settler, I recognize that my privilege permeates this study in ways that I cannot understand or recognize.

To conserve the biocomplexity that underpins salmon resilience, EAs must account for the biophysical reality of salmon ecosystems, identify potential losses of, or threats to, salmon biocomplexity, along with their causes, and address their impacts. This includes taking into account the impacts of industrial development at the genetic, species, and ecosystem levels, from local to regional scales, and considering the role that ecological processes, such as migratory patterns for salmon, the role of the species that prey on them, and production of their food species they rely on, play in maintaining system resilience (Gontier et al. 2006). For example, when proposing industrial development plans proponents should be required to account for how small, spatially isolated salmon populations, and the thousands of years of evolutionary adaptations to local environments they embody, are impacted by industrial development projects, individually and cumulatively, to ensure that projects do not homogenize habitats and contribute to the loss of salmon populations or important salmon habitats. Another important strategy for maintaining salmon biodiversity is conserving the processes – both focused and far-reaching – that generate habitat heterogeneity (Moore et al. 2010; Moore and Schindler 2022). This requires protecting the complex landscapes and processes that produce the dynamic habitat mosaics that underpin salmon biocomplexity and recognizing that systems with high levels of biodiversity and habitat heterogeneity have more opportunities to adapt to, and recover from, inevitable state changes (Schindler et al. 2003; Bisson et al. 2009; Healey 2009; Moore et al. 2010; Lapointe et al. 2014; Moore and Schindler 2022).

Given the enormous spatial scales of connectivity that operate in large river systems like the Skeena, there is also a need to more fully consider how upstream and downstream impacts of human activities can affect the broader salmon ecosystem (Wiens 1989; Stanford and Ward 2001; McCluney et al. 2014; Moore et al. 2015a). Regional Strategic Environmental Assessments (RSEAs) have been proposed as one way to take a whole systems approach and to include both Indigenous and non-Indigenous Peoples in environmental decision-making processes that affect their land, social relationships, and ways of life (Brown and Therivel 2000; Dalal-Clayton and Sadler 2005; Fischer 2007). Regional assessments are designed to systematically evaluate the cumulative effects of multi-sector land and resource uses under different future scenarios (Gunn and Noble 2009; Unalan and Cowell 2019; Buse et al. 2020). In the Beaufort Sea in the Canadian portion of the western Artic Ocean for example, local Indigenous communities and the Government of Canada came together to undertake a RSEA to provide strategic directions and conduct analyses of environmental considerations pertaining to future offshore oil and gas activity in the region (KAVIK-Stantec Inc. 2020). This RESA supported environmental decisions by exploring possible future resource development while considering trade-offs and changes in the state of the ecosystem. A critical aspect of the RSEA included the collection of baseline data, including existing and future stressors and trends such as climate change, and the identification of sustainable thresholds for any identified valued components. In the Skeena River watershed, RSEAs could help to establish a knowledge base relating to the status of salmon populations and their habitats, current activities and development affecting them, the spatial extent and scope of their habitat, and identify appropriate thresholds and management triggers for sustainability assessments for individual projects. This approach would help to address the current fragmentation in the management of human activities that affect the same interconnected salmon ecosystem and improve our understanding of the bigger picture of cumulative effects in a region.

Empowering Indigenous governance and management institutions is one avenue for alleviating the negative impacts of social mismatches in salmon SES (Atlas et al. 2020; Herse et al. 2020). In Indigenous knowledge systems, scales and systems of governance are often more attuned to local ecological structures and processes and therefore less prone to the kinds of mismatches that are common in colonial environmental governance institutions (Atlas et al. 2020). Management decisions are informed by detailed knowledge of local biodiversity and ecosystems, knowledge which is generated at fine spatial and temporal resolutions through the harvesting and stewardship of local resources (Turner et al. 2000; Berkes 2009; Sheil et al. 2015; Lyver and Tulianakis 2017; Artelle et al. 2018; Atlas et al. 2020). This detailed on-the-ground knowledge allows Indigenous management institutions to adapt to site-specific conditions and provides a mechanism for enhancing the fit of governance systems with the ecological systems they are managing from the bottom-up (Brown 2003; Olsson et al. 2007; Galaz et al. 2008).

To date, efforts to align scales of environmental decision-making with scales of ecological impacts have been hindered by underlying power imbalances between colonial and Indigenous governments, which become obstacles to effective environmental decision-making (Goetze 2005; Tipa and Welch 2006; Kotaska 2013; Simms et al. 2016; Atlas et al. 2020; Eckert et al. 2020; Thompson et al. 2020). Hierarchical social relations continue to dispossess Indigenous Peoples of their lands and self-determining authority (Curran et al. 2020). Despite growing partnership and cooperative management rhetoric across Canada, Indigenous Peoples continue to be largely excluded from settler colonial environmental governance frameworks and are under-represented in decision-making processes (Boelens et al. 2012; Daigle 2018; Arsenault et al. 2018; Diver et al. 2019). As currently enacted, top-down Canadian federal EA processes do not enable equitable power sharing with Indigenous Peoples. Consequently, Indigenous Peoples have few mechanisms to meaningfully engage and effectively influence decision-making through state-led EA processes (Gibson 2012; de Kerckhove et al. 2013). Empowering Indigenous institutions in EAs will require a fundamental redistribution of power within the Canadian environmental decision-making landscape.

In Canada, a number of different policy agreements have shifted regional decision-making agency toward Indigenous governments in both co-management and government-to-government processes (Wyatt 2008; Berkes 2009, 2021; Housty et al. 2014). However, these collaborative decision-making approaches are not without challenges. In many cases, colonial governments remain reluctant to share authority with Indigenous Peoples or, in instances where co-governance has been established, fail to substantively acknowledge Indigenous rights, knowledge, governance authority, and legal systems (Klain et al. 2014; Simms et al. 2016; Bennett et al. 2017; Curran et al. 2020). For example, in the Yukon Territory in northern Canada, modern land claim and self-government agreements acknowledge Yukon First Nations as an order of government in Canada with jurisdiction over clearly defined territories. However, despite the presence of land claim agreements that include power sharing with Indigenous governments, there are real and significant limitations of the Indigenous rights outlined in these agreements including in the authority to make decisions and to have jurisdiction over the waters within their traditional territories (Wilson 2020). This example illustrates that effective co-governance does not just require the legal acknowledgement of rights and authority but also the ability to exercise these rights. Realizing the benefits of co-governance will require rethinking jurisdictional arrangements associated with environmental decision-making to move toward acknowledging joint and, in some cases sole, Indigenous jurisdiction and independent Indigenous legal and governance systems.

Increasingly, Indigenous law is directing environmental decision-making and, in the process, changing the landscape of environmental governance in Canada (Curran et al. 2020). In 2021, the Gitanyow Hereditary Chiefs and the governments of BC and Canada signed the Gitanyow Governance Accord – a tripartite agreement that commits the Gitanyow, the Province of BC, and Canada to revitalizing and achieving legal recognition of Gitanyow hereditary governance, including Gitanyow self-government (“British Columbia Ministry of Indigenous Relations and Reconcilation” 2021). As part of the Accord, the Gitanyow developed the Gitanyow Wilp Sustainability Assessment Process (GWSAP), a modern Indigenous legal instrument that sets out requirements for Indigenous-led assessments of industrial development projects in Gitanyow Lax’yip based on the Gitanyow’s own laws (Simgigyet’m Gitanyow 2021). The GWSAP requires “all actors (e.g., companies, state governments) to follow Gitanyow strategic direction, such as the Gitanyow Lax’yip LUP, and prohibits proposed projects from accessing the Lax’yip without the consent of the impacted Wilp. Everything in the GWSAP is Gitanyow-led in order to uphold the Ayookxw (Gitanyow law), ensure Wilp sustainability, and inform the decisions of impacted Wilp about whether to grant free, prior and informed consent (Marsden and Smith 2021).” The GWSAP signals a fundamental change in the status quo through the redistribution of power and recognition of the Gitanyow’s rights to self-government and self-determination as expressed through their laws, customs, and values – a critical ingredient for achieving good social fit.

While shifts toward more collaborative governance models certainly provide opportunities for the resurgence of First Nations communities and their own governments (Adams et al. 2014), we must be cognizant of the risks they present for reinforcing existing power relations or channeling assertions of Indigenous rights into state-based administrative and legal processes, like EAs, that ultimately feed into unilateral decision-making by the state. If we are not careful in the revitalization of Indigenous institutions, this can result in First Nations taking on increasingly “state-like” forms of governance which fail to reflect their relationships to the land (Nadasdy 2003, 2017; Wilson 2020). If co-governance arrangements are to be successful, Indigenous Peoples cannot be forced to engage in governance systems that are shaped by settler understandings and worldviews. Effective co-governance arrangements will need to support and empower existing and (or) emerging forms of Indigenous governance and management grounded in their ancestral legal traditions, such as the Wilp-based governance structure of the Gitanyow First Nation. This will require recognizing Indigenous jurisdiction and legal orders in EA processes and policies and accepting that there is no longer a unilateral crown decision-maker – there are also Indigenous decision-makers with delegated authority.

Over the past century, salmon SESs across Canada have become increasingly decoupled as a result of colonization. Colonial acts of dispossession and assimilation have severed Indigenous Peoples’ access to salmon, dispossessed them of their lands and waters, and removed them as sovereign governments taking care of their ancestral territories. In the process, complex systems of Indigenous governance and resource management that were once able to enhance social–ecological fit have now been systematically dismantled. Today, many long-established salmon SESs are mismatched with colonial environmental governance institutions, including Canadian federal EAs. This problem of fit is undermining the resilience of Pacific salmon, and the diverse cultures and communities they support.

I argue that ultimately solutions to overcoming mismatch do not lie in amending EAs to better account for salmon SESs but rather in developing more stringent and effective laws that protect salmon biocomplexity. The current patchwork of colonial laws and policies governing natural resource management in Canada is failing to protect salmon and the coupled SESs they are part of. This is, in part, because contemporary environmental governance institutions are ill equipped to effectively safeguard the biocomplexity of salmon ecosystems that is a hallmark of their resilience. Reconciling problems of fit will require strengthening the legal mechanisms for protecting salmon biocomplexity to ensure that salmon, and the social, cultural, and economic benefits they provide, can thrive and persist.

The need to protect salmon and their habitats has long been recognized and was a driving motivation behind the development of Canada’s national policy for the Conservation of Wild Pacific Salmon (known colloquially as the Wild Salmon Policy; Fisheries and Oceans Canada 2005). The primary goal of the Wild Salmon Policy is to conserve and protect the diversity of wild Pacific salmon and their habitats. While the Wild Salmon Policy has been broadly endorsed (e.g., Cohen Commission; Cohen 2012), the Government of Canada has struggled to implement it in a meaningful way. This is in part due to the lack of legal instruments to enforce adherence to the policy in resource management decisions. This has meant that the policy has only served to offer guidance for the conservation and management of salmon but lacks any clear enforcement mechanisms when it comes to ensuring that salmon, and the ecosystems they are part of, are not adversely impacted by human activities. Recent amendments to Canada’s Fisheries Act 1985 have strengthened legal requirements to ensure that major fish stocks are sustainably managed and to rebuild them if they decline to low levels. However, by focusing on stock aggregates it is unclear how salmon biocomplexity will be meaningfully considered under the Act. Furthermore, many of the threats that salmon experience (e.g., degradation of freshwater spawning and rearing habitats) are encountered during the freshwater phase of their life cycle, a jurisdiction where federal authority is lacking. Although responsibility for fish habitat resides with Fisheries and Oceans Canada, the Province of British Columbia also has a mandate to regulate land and water use. Through acts and regulations linked to this mandate, the Province can greatly influence the extent to which fish habitat is affected largely through the management of human activities (e.g., logging, urban development, water withdrawals). In examining the effectiveness of provincial legislation and regulations in protecting and restoring salmon, however, British Columbia’s Auditor General (Office of the Auditor General of British Columbia 2004) found that the provincial government had no formal legislation to protect salmon habitat and that freshwater salmon habitats remain vulnerable to degradation as a result of cumulative anthropogenic stressors.

Endangered species legislation is another mechanism through which Canada has sought to protect salmon biodiversity. The Canadian Species at Risk Act (SARA) 2002 aims to identify species at risk of extinction, protect them from further harm, and establish programs to support their recovery. Yet despite its explicit focus on the conservation of biodiversity, the SARA falls short of protecting salmon biodiversity due to the consideration of socioeconomic factors in addition to the available scientific information on extinction risk (Waples et al. 2013; Turcotte et al. 2021; Office of the Auditor General of Canada 2022). Furthermore, the SARA only comes into play once a species faces an imminent risk of extinction. Reactive policies like this are arguably too little too late to be an effective mechanism for conserving biodiversity. For instance, out of the more than 300 species assessed since SARA first came into effect in 2004, no species have fully recovered and the majority of species still remain at risk (Office of the Auditor General of Canada 2022).

There is growing recognition that Indigenous laws, governance, and management can offer pathways for the effective conservation of nature (Turner and Berkes 2006; Polfus et al. 2016; Artelle et al. 2018; Ban et al. 2018; Atlas et al. 2020). Indigenous societies have been shaping and sustaining ecosystems for more than 12,000 years (Ellis et al. 2021), and there is evidence that Indigenous managed lands and waters are some of the most biodiverse areas remaining on the planet (O’Bryan et al. 2021). Enduring Indigenous institutions have arisen, in part, from their need to consider and protect the natural properties of salmon ecosystems in harvesting and management practices (Lepofsky et al. 2005; Campbell and Butler 2010). Indigenous resource management systems recognize the links between salmon, people, and ecosystems, thereby producing resilient human–salmon relationships. Indigenous laws coded in oral stories have provided direct guidance on how to manage human relationships with salmon ecosystems for millennia (Nelson and Shilling 2018). Traditional Indigenous societies had sophisticated laws and property rights institutions that supported the sustainable use of lands and resources and promoted harvesting practices that ensured that local salmon populations returned year after year (Trosper 1998, 2003; King 2004; Johnsen 2009). While colonization has suppressed Indigenous governance, Indigenous nations are reasserting their right to govern their lands and waters according to their traditional laws. The Gitanyow First Nation have shown how traditional Indigenous laws can be applied in contemporary environmental decision-making contexts and help to support the protection of salmon biocomplexity. Restoring the capacity for Indigenous Peoples to manage the landscape according to their values, customs, cultural practices, and laws offers a potential pathway for overcoming the negative consequences of mismatches and for fostering resilient salmon SESs.

Other efforts to provide more stringent legal protections for salmon include a global movement to extend legal rights to nature. The “Rights for Nature” movement aims to secure basic fundamental rights for nature, just as humans have rights, and the right for ecosystems to exist, flourish, regenerate, and naturally evolve without human disruption. To date, more than 20 countries worldwide have recognized the rights of nature at some level of government (Challe 2021). In 2008, Ecuador became the first country in the world to formally recognize and implement the Rights of Nature in its constitution. The Constitutional Court has since upheld these rights including in a recent ruling in which the court ruled that the Los Cedros cloud forest had a right to be protected from activities that threatened its existence (“Los Cedros and the Rights of Nature” 2022). Similar cases have been brought forward in New Zealand, Colombia, India, Peru, Argentina, Pakistan, and the United States (Challe 2021). The Yakama Nation and the Sauk-Suiattle Indian Tribe in the United States recently sued the city of Seattle on behalf of salmon alleging that the city’s hydroelectric dams fail to provide passage for salmon and thus violated salmon’s right to exist (Lee 2022). While the Rights for Nature movement is gaining momentum, it remains unclear how successful these lawsuits can be in gaining adequate, long-term protection of salmon ecosystems. However, a growing number of lawsuits involving the rights of nature might set a precedent for national and local governments to act on biodiversity conservation by opposing human activities that might prove destructive to a particular ecosystem. The lawsuits also draw attention to environmental justice issues faced by marginalized communities, particularly Indigenous communities, who are stewards of these natural ecosystems and whose livelihoods and cultural and spiritual practices depend on them.

Moving forward, we need to rethink our relationship with nature and reimagine how salmon are considered in environmental decision-making processes. The resurgence of Indigenous laws, governance, and management combined with recent advances in the development and application of nature-based rights offer two potential pathways for strengthening protections for salmon ecosystems and salmon-dependent communities. The path forward will need to draw from these types of solutions to problems of fit if there is to be any hope for addressing current mismatches in salmon SES.

I would like to express my gratitude to my doctoral advisor, Leslie King, and my committee members Natalie Ban and Nancy Turner for constructive feedback on previous version of this manuscript and for sharing their deep knowledge and expertise. Feedback from two anonymous reviewers helped to strengthen this manuscript. I am also deeply grateful to my research partners, the Gitanyow First Nation, who selflessly shared their time and knowledge with me and to other Indigenous Peoples, practitioners, and scholars who have helped to inform and inspire this work. I would also like to thank my colleagues at the Pacific Salmon Foundation for their support. This research was funded by a Doctoral Scholarship from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada, a grant from the Gordon and Betty Moore Foundation, and a Doctor of Social Sciences Entrance Award from Royal Roads University. This paper is part of my interdisciplinary portfolio dissertation in the Doctor of Social Sciences program at Royal Roads University.

The author declares there are no competing interests.