Radarsat-2 was always destined to do at least some work for foreign militaries. MacDonald Dettwiler began marketing the satellite’s defence capabilities almost immediately after the Chrétien government privatized the construction process in 1998. Six years later, it announced a deal with the US Air Force to facilitate “in-theatre support for the war fighter.” Today the US military and government’s demand for remote sensing data has become almost insatiable. Existing American spy satellites are growing old, and attempts to build a new generation of them have failed — most spectacularly late last year, when a newly launched satellite began tumbling toward earth and was shot down by a missile defence interceptor — all during a period when the US military is heavily engaged in Iraq and Afghanistan, and at least preparing for action against Iran.

The economic opportunity of selling its space division was not lost on mda. It began actively courting suitors last April, then held off concluding the deal with atk until just three days after Radarsat-2 was successfully launched — thus increasing its value. The agreement was announced in January, and unless it is blocked or amended a cool $1.3 billion will change hands. As for atk, it openly predicts that the purchase will generate $500 million in revenue during the first year alone. It also hopes to obtain lucrative contracts to build new spy satellites for the US government, using technology designed and funded by Canadians, primarily for peaceful ends.

Canada has always been a world leader in the non-military use of space. In 1962, we became the third country to reach the final frontier with a satellite, Alouette-I, designed to study the upper atmosphere. In 1972, we built the world’s first national communications satellite, Anik A1, enabling the cbc to transmit to the North. In the field of remote sensing, most countries focused their efforts on powerful cameras; Canadian scientists developed synthetic aperture radar instead. For thirteen years now, Radarsat-1, the less powerful predecessor of Radarsat-2, has served as an essential instrument for mapmaking, natural resource management, and ice navigation. When I sailed through the Northwest Passage on the Canadian coast guard icebreaker Amundsen in October 2006, the captain used Radarsat-1 imagery to plot our course. Radarsat-1 is owned and operated by the Canadian Space Agency, and in 2004 the data and images it produced were sold to 600 customers worldwide.

In hindsight, one could question the use of a public-private partnership to build Radarsat-2, as it opened up a greater possibility of sale. But there’s little doubt that the government was motivated in part by the desire to promote Canadian science and thus maintain and create thousands of well-paid jobs. Just before the satellite’s launch, mda correctly — if cynically — asserted that “the Radarsat-2 program underscores Canada’s strength and leadership in the development, operation and marketing of advanced Earth Observation technologies and applications.”

Every country with a serious space program directs government money toward its domestic space industry on the basis that some public goods — such as national defence — will not be provided by the market alone. But now that Radarsat-2 has been launched, the Canadian industry lacks any major follow-on projects, with the Conservative government seemingly unwilling to uphold earlier Liberal commitments to fund a new generation of Radarsats. Indeed, this apparent unwillingness may have contributed to mda’s decision to sell Radarsat-2.

World-leading scientists who chose to work for mda because of the peaceful aspects of its work are now leaving the industry. “As soon as I heard the announcement, I knew I couldn’t work for them [mda] anymore,” Paul Cottle, a thirty-one-year-old American engineer, told the cbc. “Part of the reason I came to Canada was to avoid having my tax dollars go to support companies like atk.” Maintaining a healthy Canadian space industry isn’t just good for Canada; it’s good for the world, providing a place where expertise can be developed and nurtured outside the US-led effort to militarize space.

Radarsat-2 is also quintessentially Canadian, because it was meant to monitor our vast northern spaces and thus support our sovereignty there. To illustrate the point, imagine that the construction of the newly promised $720-million icebreaker were modelled on Radarsat-2. A public-private partnership would be established with a Canadian-owned company, with the government covering 85 percent of the cost, in return for a specified period of time when the Canadian coast guard would have priority access to the vessel. The company would own the icebreaker and be allowed — indeed, encouraged — to create jobs and stimulate economic activity in Canada by chartering the vessel to other users when it was not required by the coast guard. Other users might include cargo ships requiring icebreaker escorts through the Northwest Passage. Everyone would be happy. Canada would obtain a major tool for sovereignty assertion. The company would receive necessary financial support in return for providing a public good, and the opportunity to garner profits through private contracts. Commercial shipping companies from around the world would benefit, promoting trade and general prosperity.

Now, imagine that within weeks of the icebreaker’s launch the Canadian company announced the vessel’s sale to a US company specializing in Antarctic operations. A controversy would erupt — and rightly so. Would the icebreaker still be registered in Canada? Would it still be available for priority use by the Canadian coast guard, given that it might not maintain Canadian registry? To what degree would Canada’s new sovereignty assertion capabilities be lost, or at least compromised?

Does anyone think that the sale of the icebreaker would be allowed to proceed? No, yet the parallel between this hypothetical scenario and the proposed sale of Radarsat-2 is very close indeed.

There are two pieces of legislation the Canadian government could use to block the sale of Radarsat-2. Under the Investment Canada Act, the minister of industry, science and technology must decide whether the transfer of ownership is of “net benefit” to Canada. Last October, two months before the launch, Industry Minister Jim Prentice stood beside Radarsat-2 and said, “This satellite will help us vigorously protect our Arctic sovereignty as international interest in the region increases.” But the Investment Canada Act sets out a series of purely economic factors for the net benefit determination — a situation that prompted Prentice, when faced with the possibility that Chinese state-owned companies might invest in the Alberta tar sands, to suggest that the government might adopt an explicit national security test. More recently, however, he indicated to the House of Commons Industry Committee that he could consider non-economic fac-tors, and would consult with “affected provinces and other federal govern-ment departments and agencies” before approving the Radarsat-2 sale.