Trump’s Arctic obsession, backed by aggressive drilling and mining initiatives, are accelerating environmental degradation and geopolitical tensions in a rapidly militarizing and contested region.

Donald Trump’s obsession with acquiring Greenland may have generated headlines, but the more consequential threat lies in a flurry of executive orders poised to transform the Arctic — and not for the better.

Under the guise of bolstering American “strategic presence,” the Trump administration has launched a sweeping agenda aimed at expanding resource extraction, dismantling environmental safeguards, and unlocking the Arctic’s untapped commercial potential. At the heart of this effort is an executive order that reverses Biden-era restrictions on oil and gas exploration in Alaska. The order not only rescinds lease cancellations in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR) but also reopens previously protected zones in the National Petroleum Reserve-Alaska — areas long considered ecologically sensitive. It further directs federal agencies to fast-track permits and leasing for energy and natural resource projects throughout Alaska.

The fallout from this decision is expected to be dramatic. Expanded drilling and infrastructure development threaten habitats critical to polar bears, caribou, and migratory bird species. But it’s not only wildlife at risk. The Gwich’in and other Indigenous communities, whose livelihoods and cultural traditions depend on intact Arctic ecosystems, face a looming erosion of both land and identity.

The Perils of Arctic Industrialization

In early May, the Department of the Interior revealed plans to designate a new “High Arctic” zone as part of the federal offshore oil and gas leasing program. This initiative would allow for lease sales in waters more than 200 miles off the Alaskan coast — territory where U.S. legal jurisdiction remains ambiguous. In tandem, the administration repealed all Biden-era measures designed to halt offshore drilling in the Arctic, effectively opening the floodgates for future auctions.

The implications are chilling. Offshore drilling raises the specter of oil spills in one of the planet’s most fragile marine environments — where cleanup operations are nearly impossible due to extreme weather, ice cover, and logistical isolation.

The noise and disruption of drilling activities will further imperil marine mammals, displace fish populations, and destabilize the Arctic food web. Lessons from past Arctic and sub-Arctic spills, including the Deepwater Horizon disaster, offer grim portents.

Worse still, in April, Trump signed an executive order accelerating deep-sea mining — not only in U.S. Arctic waters but potentially in adjacent international zones. The directive compels federal agencies to bypass international negotiations and fast-track permits for seabed mining, raising alarms in the scientific community. Experts warn that such activity could inflict permanent damage on pristine seafloor ecosystems. Early tests in the region have shown that once disturbed, these unique habitats take decades — if not centuries — to recover.

Militarization by Executive Order

One executive order, perhaps intentionally under the radar, may prove the most geopolitically transformative: “Restoring America’s Maritime Dominance.” It mandates the creation of a comprehensive U.S. Arctic strategy centered on commercial expansion and maritime security — a response to what the administration calls “the growing presence of foreign nations.” A forthcoming Maritime Action Plan will crystallize the administration’s ambitions in Arctic waters, blurring the line between commercial development and military posturing.

The Great Game in the North

This renewed U.S. interest in the Arctic does not exist in a vacuum. In December 2024, even the Biden-era Pentagon was sounding alarms. A Department of Defense article, prompted by a speech from Deputy Assistant Secretary Iris A. Ferguson, warned of China’s growing ambitions in the region. Ferguson called for increased U.S. resources to counter what she described as China’s escalating Arctic footprint.

Indeed, China’s Arctic strategy has undergone a striking evolution. After years of halting progress — marked by a single icebreaker visit to Nuuk, Greenland, and several failed infrastructure investments — Beijing shifted gears. During the summer of 2024, China deployed three icebreakers in Arctic waters, signaling a pivot toward sustained presence. Plans for a new heavy icebreaker have only heightened that perception. By October, Russia’s state news agency RIA Novosti bluntly declared: “The Arctic is becoming Chinese.”

This turn is rooted in Xi Jinping’s 2014 declaration that China would become a “major polar power.” Following its admission as an observer to the Arctic Council in 2013, China has strategically positioned the Arctic Ocean as the “third corridor” of its Belt and Road Initiative — alongside its overland Central Asian route and its Indo-Pacific maritime path. The Arctic offers Beijing the trifecta: access to resources, strategic shipping lanes, and geopolitical clout.

Europe’s Own Arctic Calculus

Norway, meanwhile, has taken a more pragmatic — and arguably complicit — approach to Arctic development. In 2024, Oslo issued eight new oil licenses in the Barents Sea, quadrupling the number granted the previous year. The Johan Castberg oil field, a massive project in the Norwegian Arctic, began operations in March. State-owned Equinor is also eyeing the Wisting oil field, which, if developed, would become the world’s northernmost oil operation.

Yet Norway’s approach hasn’t been without controversy. In 2020, the government revised its definition of the “marginal ice edge zone” — a key boundary used to determine where drilling is permitted. Critics accused Oslo of tailoring the new boundary to favor oil interests, ignoring its own scientists’ recommendations. The 2024 revision upheld the earlier definition, further entrenching fossil fuel development in contested Arctic waters.

For a country that has long styled itself as an environmental leader, Norway’s Arctic policy is starting to look more like opportunism. Rather than leveraging Russia’s war in Ukraine as an excuse for continued drilling, Oslo could — and should — recognize the geopolitical volatility that Arctic oil exploration brings. A moratorium on new licenses would not only align with climate science but also signal Norway’s commitment to long-term regional stability.

This article was originally posted in the Watershed Sentinel.