How a Scottish Tidal Power Startup Just Signed a Game-Changer Deal With Ontario

Jason Hayman was signing documents that essentially put an end to his business the last time he attended a tidal power meeting. The office in Cowes, on the Isle of Wight, had the calm, slightly formal atmosphere of a place where challenging situations are handled with grace. Outside is a stone wall. In the nearby marina, boats are moving. He recalls feeling numb rather than furious. I just finished. That was in 2023.

Because of this, the recent agreement between Ontario and a Scottish tidal power startup feels more like an unexpected second act than a press release.

After years of false starts, investors seem to be moving back toward tidal energy. Yes, with caution. but observing.

The fundamental concept remains unchanged. The Bay of Fundy continues to function like a living machine, precisely pushing enormous walls of water in and out twice a day. Tides behave in a different way than wind or solar, which are dependent on the mood of the weather. predictable. tenacious. Their consistency is almost dull. Nevertheless, success hasn’t resulted from that predictability.

You can see the Minas Passage churning like an underwater storm as you stroll along the observation windows at the Fundy Ocean Research Centre for Energy. From a distance, it’s lovely. intimidating as well. It’s like working inside a hurricane that never stops and only pauses momentarily, according to engineers. An hour of peace. Then chaos once more.

It’s possible that this is where the majority of businesses made mistakes—not with the technology itself, but with its surroundings. Water is important, but so is policy.

Like its predecessors, SME demonstrated the viability of its turbines. That wasn’t the issue. The devices rotated. The power was flowing. However, regulators—particularly those who are interested in fish habitats—kept requesting certainty that isn’t actually present in open water systems. Cameras were unable to see well. In murky currents, sensors had difficulty. More questions than answers were raised by the incomplete data. Investors appear to think that regulations are becoming more transparent, at least for the time being.

Canada’s new staged regulatory approach, which permits one turbine initially and more if environmental data supports it, seems like a subtle but significant change. It’s less all or nothing. More detailed. Risk is contained but not completely eliminated. And maybe that’s what made Ontario possible.

since Ontario isn’t Fundy. Not in tidal force in its raw form. However, it also provides stability. a power-absorbing grid. a political climate that seems more open to experimentation, particularly as provinces search for fossil fuel substitutes that don’t solely rely on sporadic sources.

It’s difficult to ignore the subtle shift in tone as this develops. Discussions about tidal energy were defensive a few years ago, explaining why failures weren’t fatal. Something more akin to cautious optimism now exists. Doubt persists, though.

When you scale the math, each turbine’s 2 to 2.5 megawatt output sounds impressive. It takes money, perseverance, and regulatory trust to build arrays big enough to matter. In the past, all three have been vulnerable in this field.

Cost is another issue. In order to make projects feasible, Nova Scotia used to offer feed-in tariffs as high as 53 cents per kilowatt hour. That is a substantial subsidy. Whether Ontario or any other region will sustain tidal power at comparable levels long enough for it to develop is still up for debate.

According to one researcher, engineers are generally optimistic. The way they describe turbine blades cutting through water, enhancing designs, lowering drag, and increasing lifespan is indicative of this. constantly improving. I always think the next version will fix the previous issue. However, optimism isn’t always able to withstand dealing with bureaucracy.

This deal feels a little different in that regard. Exporting Scottish knowledge to Canada is not the only goal. It’s about exporting lessons learned the hard way, such as managing stakeholders, obtaining permits, and avoiding overcommitting too soon.

A memory looms over all of this: Hayman arriving at the notary office knowing the outcome before the meeting even started. Future choices are often influenced by such a conclusion, which makes founders more circumspect and perhaps even a little doubtful of their own optimism.

And yet here he is once more, or at least his concepts are, reappearing in a new location with new associates. After all, the tides never stopped.

With more energy than all the rivers in the world put together, they continued to flow through Fundy despite bankruptcies and policy disputes. Tidal power has always been difficult to ignore just because of this. Almost obstinately so.

It’s possible that timing, rather than technology or even resources, is what’s evolving right now. There is pressure on governments to decarbonize more quickly. Investors are looking for energy assets with moderate volatility. Communities desire jobs that are connected to something tangible and local. Or perhaps this is just one more incident in a lengthy string of near-misses.

There’s a sense that this moment might hold, but it’s quiet and unconfident. However, it’s a delicate emotion. built on updated regulations, cautious funding, and the optimism that the ocean will finally cooperate both economically and physically.

Ontario might develop into more than just a new market if it does. It might be evidence that tidal energy is simply an industry that required a few more attempts than most, rather than a lovely idea that keeps failing.