Oceanfront Property? NO not Ukraines and not Canada’s. The photo you see here was taken in Taloyoak, Nunavut, during an air show in mid-June in 2017. The man’s name is Guy. He had rushed from work to make it in time. He stood on that rock with the ice flows behind him, hand over heart, as we played O Canada before the show began.
What struck me wasn’t just the backdrop, or the sheer beauty of the North, but the pride on his face. Pride in his country, despite the weight of history: colonization, residential schools, the day-to-day realities of life in the Arctic that most Canadians will never fully know. That moment crystallized for me why the North matters so much.
It’s not an empty expanse. It’s home. It’s culture. It’s people. And it makes up a massive portion of Canada’s landmass. A part of our identity too often treated like a distant afterthought until someone from far away sees an opportunity in it.
That’s why tomorrow’s meeting in Alaska between Donald Trump and Vladimir Putin makes my stomach turn. Because when men like this talk about “oceanfront property,” whether it’s Ukraine’s Black Sea coast or Canada’s Arctic coastline, they don’t see Guy. They don’t see communities. They see leverage.
The White House has been calling this a “listening exercise.” And if it “goes well,” Trump says he’ll immediately schedule a second meeting, this time with Zelensky at the table. But let’s be clear: Putin’s starting position isn’t some mystery. He wants:
- Recognition of all his territorial gains in Ukraine.
- A permanent NATO ban.
- Caps on Ukraine’s military capacity and weapons.
- Elections in Ukraine — under Russian occupation.
That’s not a negotiation starter. It’s the terms of surrender. Zelensky can’t agree to that without betraying his own people, which is why he’s made it clear: ceasefire first, then security guarantees, then talks. The Kremlin’s agenda is much wider than Ukraine. They’re openly talking about arms reduction, space cooperation, economic deals, and, here’s the one that hits me personally, Arctic resource exploration. That’s not just Alaska’s Arctic. That’s Canada’s Arctic too. Our sovereignty. Our land. Our people.
Putin’s already wins something just by walking into that room. After years of sanctions and diplomatic isolation, he gets to tell his people (and the world) that he’s back at the “top table” of global power. Trump’s giving him that stage before a single concession is made.
We’ve also learned something about the mood going in. In recent months, Trump’s frustration with Putin has grown. He’s been asking aides and Europeans what’s changed about the man since his first term. Some experts say it’s COVID. U.S. intelligence believes Putin grew paranoid during the pandemic, limiting his contacts, surrounding himself with fewer voices. Maybe that’s shifted his short-term goals, perhaps he’d pocket some territorial gains or pursue economic deals, but on Ukraine’s sovereignty, the maximalist demands are unchanged. And U.S. intelligence still can’t fully read how Putin makes decisions.
Trump thinks he can. He’s been telling people he’ll know within minutes whether the meeting is “successful.” That’s a dangerous kind of confidence when you’re dealing with a leader who has ruled for decades, plays the long game, and genuinely believes he’s winning.
And then there’s the question of who’s in the room. The last time Trump met with Putin, he had no advisors. No one to reality-check him in the moment, no one to push back if the conversation drifted into dangerous territory. We don’t even know if the translation will be airtight. Putin speaks English, Trump doesn’t speak Russian. That’s already an advantage to one side. And if the closest thing to a “foreign policy advisor” in the room is Steve Whitkoff, a fellow real estate tycoon with zero diplomatic experience, then the only thing being traded here is property metaphors.
Between Wednesday’s meetings with European leaders, which included Prime Minister Mark Carney and Zelensky, and Friday’s summit, there’s talk of “cautious optimism.” But seriously, what does that even mean? What does “progress” look like in a room where one man’s goal is international legitimacy and the other thinks he can wing peace talks on instinct?
This is where I come back to the North. I’ve been there. I’ve seen what it looks like, felt what it feels like. At the northernmost tip near Alert, you can almost touch Greenland. No wonder it’s on the radar for men who think in maps and power plays. I don’t want to resurrect the Greenland conversation, but it’s there. And it’s why I feel the vulnerability in my gut. The Arctic isn’t just strategic, it’s human. It’s ours. And the thought of two men with imperial appetites circling it? That part is hard to even write about.
“Oceanfront is everything,” Trump said about Putin’s desire for Ukraine’s coastal regions. But in the North, oceanfront isn’t everything. It’s not for sale. Not in Ukraine. Not in Canada. Because it’s not just land, it’s people. And people aren’t bargaining chips.
Nancy's Notes 