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By Leni Spooner, creator of Between the Lines.
What if I told you Canada gave away its housing system—and almost nobody noticed?
Your city councillor just got yelled at about housing affordability—but they don’t control rent.
In fact, they might not even have the tools to build or manage new units. And yet, they’ll wear the blame when housing feels out of reach.
That’s the result of a decades-long game of jurisdictional hot potato in Canada—one that started in the 1990s, when the federal government quietly stepped away from housing and passed the buck down the line.
The public never really saw it happen. But we’ve all felt the consequences.
But this wasn’t just administrative shuffling. It was a slow political detachment of one of Canada’s most important public goods—affordable shelter—from the people who were supposed to benefit.
And here’s the real kicker: most of us never heard about it. We just knew things started to get harder. Rents climbed. Waitlists grew. Neighbourhoods changed.
No one told us why.
A Hand-Off Eagerly Accepted
To be clear, this wasn’t a hostile transfer. Provinces and municipalities wanted the file. At the time, many were clamouring to take over social housing from Ottawa. The rationale was practical—and politically popular: local governments know their people best. They could tailor programs, manage portfolios more efficiently, and avoid duplication across jurisdictions.
But the promise of proximity didn’t hold up.
While the first wave of provincial and municipal leaders embraced the handoff, subsequent governments failed to protect, prioritize, or even understand what had been placed in their care. Maintenance was deferred. Capital budgets shrank. Policy momentum withered. And new construction of deeply affordable homes slowed to a crawl.
Across the country, cities inherited housing systems but not the funding, tools, or policy infrastructure needed to manage them well. And voters—largely unaware the shift had even happened—had no clear way to track accountability or demand better.
The Turnout Tells the Story
Political engagement drops as government gets closer to home.
- In the 2022 Ontario municipal elections, average voter turnout was just 32.9%, down from 38% in 2018 (AMO).
- In Toronto, turnout was a dismal 29.17%, the city’s lowest in nearly 50 years (Wikipedia).
- Across the city, only 12 of 140 neighbourhoods saw more than half of eligible voters cast a ballot (Maytree).
And while provincial turnout is better, it still lags well behind federal elections. As civic attention thins out, so does the political pressure to act.
So Who Is Responsible?
Housing delivery in Canada is now a fragmented mix of:
- Federal funding agreements
- Provincial tenancy legislation and rent control
- Municipal zoning, permitting, and land-use planning
But most voters don’t know that. And that confusion is convenient. It allows every level of government to point fingers while projects stall, rents rise, and waitlists grow.
It also allows well-funded private interests—like developers—to step in as de facto decision-makers, shaping housing outcomes in ways that prioritize profit over livability.
From Devolution to Displacement
As responsibilities were passed down and civic engagement thinned out, something else happened: the slow disappearance of public housing as a public conversation.
When the news stopped covering housing policy, when voters stopped showing up to local meetings, and when councils started approving new developments with little scrutiny or transparency, the cumulative effect was predictable.
Developers built what maximized profit. Councils approved it. And deeply affordable, community-sensitive housing faded into myth.
The public didn’t consent to this shift. But they weren’t equipped to stop it, either.
The Path Forward Starts with Knowing What to Ask
It’s tempting to say the solution is simple: just vote in municipal elections. But voting alone isn’t enough—not when so many voters arrive at the ballot box unsure of what their city council even controls.
We need a revival of civic literacy.
Not just who’s running, but what they’re responsible for.
Not just which policies sound good, but which ones actually address the problems on the ground.
That means knowing what questions to ask of the candidates seeking your vote—and knowing how to hold them accountable once they’re in office. It means understanding how power actually works in your city, and staying connected as decisions are made—not just reacting to outcomes.
It’s a monumental task, yes. But it’s not an impossible one.
And in a democracy, small steps are how big things begin.
Every neighbour who gets informed.
Every meeting attended.
Every question asked.
Every article shared.
It all adds up.
We Need to Talk About Local Journalism
In the past, that work of public education—tracking local issues, explaining responsibilities, asking hard questions—was the job of local journalists. But as newsrooms have vanished, that burden has quietly shifted to citizens themselves. Today, untrained but determined residents are stepping in to fill the gap, running blogs, newsletters, and Facebook pages to keep their neighbours informed. It’s a remarkable act of civic care—but it’s not sustainable without support. If we want better communities, we need to talk seriously about reviving and supporting local journalism as a public good—something embedded in our democratic infrastructure, not left to burnout and chance.
🗓️ From the 1996 federal budget:
“The federal government will withdraw from the provision of social housing… Provinces are better positioned to meet the diverse needs of their populations.”
📉 From 1996 to 2023, the number of new affordable units built annually in Canada dropped by more than 50%. Meanwhile, waitlists ballooned and homelessness surged.
The Bigger Question
This didn’t happen overnight—and it didn’t happen in secret. It happened in plain sight, but out of focus.
Which raises a much bigger question:
What other responsibilities have been quietly downloaded onto local governments without public awareness?
Transit? Climate resilience? Emergency services? Immigration? This is how power shifts in Canada—not with a bang, but a budget memo.
And if we’re not paying attention at the local level, we won’t know what’s been lost until it’s already gone—or what burdens we’ve quietly inherited until they come back to bite.
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About the Author
Leni Spooner is a Canadian writer, researcher, and civic storyteller. She is the founder of Between the Lines | Kitchen Table Politics, a longform publication exploring how policy, economics, food systems, and everyday life intersect. Her work blends historical context with present-day analysis, helping readers see the deeper patterns that shape Canada’s choices — and the lives built around them.
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