It was 2017, and friends called with wonderful news—they were welcoming their third child. Then, the rub: they were moving to Burlington. Three years later, friends a block over announced that they were starting over in Collingwood. Then my brother and his young family decamped from a downtown condo to a house in Cobourg. Was it something I said? All three faced the same dilemma: stick around for the vitality of city living or trade it all in for a little more square footage.
The pandemic played a role in the latter two cases, but the truth is that single-family homes are way too expensive, and condos just aren’t being made for families. Even today, only 10 per cent of Toronto condos have three bedrooms or more.
The three couples in my circle that left are talented, gainfully employed parents who contribute to their communities in big and small ways. They’re also young and brimming with energy and optimism. In other words, the exact people Toronto needs to stick around. Unfortunately, the dire housing situation pushed them out. Toronto’s loss, times six.
My urgent, irritated, increasingly lonely question is this: Why? In a city as vibrant and theoretically ascendant as ours, why is there an affordability crisis? The pieces should all line up: developers want to develop, builders want to build, buyers want to buy and the government, at least in principle, wants roofs over its citizens’ heads. So what’s the hold-up? If everyone wants more, why isn’t there more?
I’ve put this question to a lot of people lately—developers, politicians and architects. The developers blame the city for onerous red tape, insufficient tax breaks and thinning out their profit margins. The city faults the feds for inadequate cash injections and an over-eager immigration policy. The province says, “Hey, we tried—remember the Greenbelt?”
Despite this circular game of finger-pointing, there are signs of positive change. The provincial and federal governments are finally aligned on housing targets and have established significant cash incentives. Affordable housing is happening in a serious way across the GTHA. And multiplex units are now being built in long-established residential neighbourhoods. But a balanced, healthy, accessible market remains a pipe dream, which means that, in the interim, Torontonians are stuck with the status quo.
Our November cover story, “Small Space, Big Ambition,” introduces a third option to the mix. In it, you’ll meet Torontonians who refuse to accept the depressing binary: abandon your beloved city or pretzel yourself into a shoebox in the sky. Instead, they’ve found clever ways to make their homes feel as spacious as possible. Their solutions run a technicolour gamut—gorgeous garden suites, stunning laneway apartments, and hyper-efficient homes on wheels and on water. They’ve drummed up backyard businesses in auxiliary dwellings, made strategic use of nooks and crannies and, in one adorable case, turned an ordinary bedroom wall into a dreamy kids’ play space. And they did it in ways that are breezy and beautiful.
The feature is both remarkable and maddening. When a city truly works, this kind of creative problem-solving isn’t necessary. Alas, here we are.
My friends aren’t coming back (I’ve asked a couple of times), but with coordination, urgent decision-making and some good fortune (I’m looking at you, inflation), Toronto may be able to keep more young families from leaving.
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Malcolm Johnston is the editor-in-chief of Toronto Life, a role he took on in 2022 after more than 11 years at the magazine. He has worked as a writer and features editor, with a strong focus on investigative journalism and in-depth reporting on the people, politics, and culture shaping Toronto.