This piece was originally published on LinkedIn on July 27, 2025. Shared with permission of author Tristan Downe-Dewdney.
Canada’s housing crisis, we were told, had finally been met with resolve. For a brief period, it seemed politicians had grasped the scale of the disaster unfolding across our cities: housing unattainable for the young, out of reach for families, and unavailable even to those with stable jobs. But the moment is slipping. Governments, caught up in the multi-crisis of the moment, appear to be losing momentum—and without continued, coordinated action, we risk trading short-term policy wins for long-term instability: economic, social, and political.
The illusion that we have turned a corner is comforting—and dangerous. Yes, prices have cooled from their pandemic highs. Inventory is sitting longer on the market. But this is a mirage. Rents—even for single rooms—are rising again, new housing starts are vanishing, and the pipeline of future supply is drying up. We are not solving the crisis; we are pausing just long enough to ensure it returns—worse than before.
YIMBYs (yes-in-my-back-yard advocates) have spent much of the last week pointing to Toronto as an example of ambition faltering. City Council recently declined to implement a city-wide sixplex zoning reform—despite having committed to exactly that under its Housing Accelerator Fund agreement with Ottawa. That decision, they have argued, should carry consequences. The former federal Minister of Housing had suggested it would. The current Minister has yet to indicate what actions, if any, will follow. For now, no government appears eager to press the issue or offer the political cover others need to advance bolder reforms.
The sixplex example underscores a broader risk: that the status quo—exclusive zoning, local vetoes, political risk aversion—is reasserting itself. And with it comes the quiet re-normalization of a fundamentally unjust housing system, one that locks entire generations out of the life they were promised: a place to live near work, a home to raise a family, the hope of building equity.
Even if immigration were to slow or halt entirely—a fantasy in its own right, given the economic and demographic house of cards it sustains—homes would still remain out of reach in urban regions where opportunity is concentrated. We are not just failing to house the future—we are fraying the foundation of a cohesive, mobile, and hopeful society.
The risks are not theoretical. A contraction in housing construction is already underway. Layoffs in the trades are looming. When demand inevitably returns—and it will—we will face a diminished capacity to respond. Prices will spike, investor speculation will accelerate, and public frustration will intensify.
And when voters begin to feel that the leaders they trusted have not delivered—even those clearly committed to more housing—they may look elsewhere. The risk is not just electoral—it is cultural. We are already seeing the early signs of polarization in housing discourse. If we continue to fall short, that frustration could take on sharper, more divisive forms.
This is not merely a question of housing—it is a question of national resilience.
The federal government still has a narrow window to act. Expanded support for apartment construction through the Apartment Construction Loan Program could keep parts of the sector alive. A national public builder—coordinated, funded, and empowered—could cut through the molasses of local permitting and deliver housing at scale. Modular construction could modernize an industry stuck in the 20th century. Follow-through on intergovernmental agreements could reinvigorate municipal reform efforts.
But even these bold ideas come with trade-offs. Innovation must not displace traditional workers in a fragile labour market, or we risk inflaming the very populism housing reform is meant to pre-empt. Reform must be smart, inclusive, and clearly communicated. But most of all, it must be bold.
It may be unfair that so much responsibility is being placed on the shoulders of a single order of government, but Ottawa sought a strong mandate to act boldly after the April election, and hopes for municipal and provincial action are wearing thin. If Ottawa concludes that housing can wait—that other priorities, from defence to diplomacy, should come first—it won’t just be shelving a policy file. It will be shelving a generation. And that generation will feel the impacts.
They will scale back their ambitions. They will postpone families. They will move away—or tune out. Some may become disillusioned in ways that challenge the very cohesion our politics depend on. Yes, we have already heard about these trends. No, we do not understand what it means to have the dial turned all the way up.
Whatever political capital is being conserved today by deferring hard decisions may hold little value when the cost of inaction comes due.
Now is the time. Reform delayed is opportunity lost—and instability invited. Canada’s housing crisis is not just about supply and demand. It is a test of whether this country can still solve hard problems—or whether we have simply lost the will.
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