To spray, or not to spray

November 18, 2025

By Nate Smelle

While walking along the Heritage Trail in L’Amable on the weekend I decided to take a detour away from the beaten path when I noticed a set of large hoofprints veering off the path and into the woods. Much too large for a white-tailed deer, upon closer inspection I determined the tracks likely belonged to an elk.

Keeping an eye on the ground and walking slowly, I quickly lost track of time as I continued my pursuit. Pausing for a moment to appreciate the honking of a flock of Canadian geese passing overhead, I looked at my watch and realized that I had been hiking for more than an hour. Now deeper in the forest than I intended when I wandered away from the main trail, I sat down on a fallen tree to rest for a moment and take in my surroundings.

No sign of the mysterious creature I had been tracking I pulled out my notebook and began jotting down a few observations.

Ravens squawking, blue jays screeching, at least a dozen black-capped chickadees darting in and out of the balsam fir behind me. In the distance a pleated woodpecker is pounding away on a hollow tree out of sight. Putting my hands down on the tree I was sitting on, I could feel the warmth of the moss growing on its bark. No matter what time of the year it is or what time of day, every inch of the forest is alive.

Thinking about how full of life nature is as I made my way back to the Heritage Trail, the richness of the biodiversity I was enjoying reminded me of the recent request from members of the Bancroft Minden Forest Company for South Algonquin council to reconsider its previous decision to support West Nipissing’s moratorium on the aerial spraying of glyphosate. Despite their case for its cost effectiveness, listening to their presentation I wasn’t quite convinced that indiscriminately spraying this toxic chemical on the forest ecosystem is in the best interest of the community.

As part of their defence of the controversial herbicide the delegation warned councillors about “conspiracy theories” and “pseudo-science.” However, their presentation leaned heavily on selective data—industry-funded studies, regulator summaries, and narrow toxicology limits that fail to account for ecological complexity and human exposure realities.

It is also worth noting that the peer-reviewed science surrounding the use of glyphosate is far more divided than BMFC suggested. Digging into the science on the other side of this issue after the meeting, I found numerous studies that challenge the assumptions underlying glyphosate approvals — especially regarding low-dose effects, cumulative exposure, and environmental persistence.

For example, the International Agency for Research on Cancer has classified glyphosate as “probably carcinogenic to humans”, placing it in the same group as many substances we take great care to avoid. Dismissing this classification by comparing it to red meat consumption or night-shift work, as the delegation did, downplays a critical point: neither red meat nor shift work is sprayed from helicopters across fragile ecosystems. Critics also point to studies suggesting possible links between glyphosate exposure and: non-Hodgkin lymphoma; liver and kidney damage; disruption of the gut microbiome; and, reproductive issues.

Industry likes to counter that these impacts happen only at extremely high doses. But this argument conveniently ignores bioaccumulation, chronic low-level exposure, and the fact that aerial spraying is imprecise by nature. South Algonquin is not a remote industrial wasteland—it is cottage country, hunting territory, a tourism economy, and home for hundreds of residents. Exposure pathways are real, unavoidable, and impossible to quantify with the simplistic “risk-based” framework used to justify continued spraying.

One of the most troubling aspects of aerial glyphosate use is its role in reshaping the ecology of our forests. Glyphosate does not simply “target weeds”—it eliminates broadleaf vegetation and deciduous trees, clearing the way for monoculture conifer plantations. Spraying glyphosate to engineer conifer dominance may be convenient and profitable for timber companies, but it degrades ecosystems that support wildlife, tourism, and long-term ecological resilience.

Aerial spraying of glyphosate causes far-reaching ecological disruption by eliminating broadleaf plants and young deciduous growth that wildlife such as moose, deer, bears, birds, and pollinators depend on for food and habitat. With these plants removed, pollinator populations decline and the balance of the forest ecosystem weakens. Glyphosate also harms soil microorganisms essential for nutrient cycling, reducing overall soil health. Despite claims that it binds to soil, the chemical can wash into lakes and rivers during heavy rains, where its toxic byproduct AMPA persists in sediment and threatens aquatic life. Additionally, replacing fire-resistant deciduous species with flammable conifers increases the risk of severe wildfires.

Aerial spraying has impacts far beyond science and forestry economics—it also affects people’s lives, rights, and cultural practices.

The forests slated for spraying throughout the province include hunting grounds, trapping areas, foraging spaces, and places where members of the Indigenous communities gather traditional medicines and foods. Spraying without free, prior, and informed consent violates treaty rights and threatens food security.

It also fuels public anger. Across Ontario, communities are increasingly outspoken in their opposition to glyphosate spraying. West Nipissing’s call for a moratorium reflects a growing recognition that the risks and uncertainties outweigh the perceived benefits. Quebec banned glyphosate use in forestry more than 20 years ago and continues to thrive with ground-based, more sustainable vegetation management methods.

The question then becomes: Why are Ontario communities still being asked to accept risks that another province decided were unnecessary two decades ago?

South Algonquin council took an important step by supporting West Nipissing’s moratorium on aerial spraying of glyphosate. That decision placed the health of residents, the land, and wildlife ahead of industrial convenience. To reverse its position now would be a big step backwards.

No one argues that forest management is easy. But aerial spraying is the least democratic, least transparent, and most ecologically disruptive method on the table. Quebec has proven alternatives exist. Many European countries have restricted or banned glyphosate outright. There is simply no reason South Algonquin must accept a practice that other jurisdictions have deemed too risky.

Taking into account the many different species composing the forest which the Heritage Trail runs through as I walked back to the car, I thought about the rich diversity in which I was immersed. Forests are not crops. They are living ecosystems interconnected by a complex network of species and relationships. They are cultural landscapes that provide the economic foundations for communities far beyond just the timber industry.

Council—and the public—should not be swayed by reassurances rooted in selective science that only serves one specific industry. At the very least, it would be wise to hear from some of the experts on the other side of this issue before officially reversing their position and allowing aerial spraying to take place. A precautionary approach that prioritizes the health and well-being of people and the planet over the profits of the few is simply responsible governance.