"Show me the incentive and I'll show you the outcome." —Charlie Munger

Canada is, broadly speaking, a nation of homeowners. In the 2021 census, 66.5% of Canadians owned their own home. So, most. And this is encouraged. Owning your own home is typically viewed as a way to generate wealth, build equity, and provide tangible evidence that you have enough creditworthiness to make a mortgage payment every month.

Given the above, you could say that the majority of Canadians are incentivized to do things to protect the value of housing and, in turn, their personal net worth. But we also know that this creates an inexplicable housing paradox. We want housing to be more affordable for some, but ever more valuable to others. How exactly should we achieve this?

In this recent opinion piece in the Globe & Mail, John Turley-Ewart argues that the recent announcement in Vancouver translates into housing no longer being a home. Rather, it has become a "supply-managed good in a protected industry," similar to dairy and telecom in this country. So: "The result will be a country where homeownership is reserved for the few by design. It shouldn’t be that way."

Here's a thought exercise: Why would it be a problem if Canada's homeownership rate dropped to, say, one-third — the same rate as Switzerland? Is it because housing should appreciate faster than the rate of inflation and generate wealth for Canadians, or is it simply because pride of ownership is good for people's moral well-being? If it's the former, well, then the argument eats its own tail.

We are saying we want housing to be more affordable so more people can own it, but if it were constantly depreciating (getting cheaper), or even just appreciating at the rate of inflation, should people even want to own it? Why not just rent and invest the down payment elsewhere to earn greater returns? That's what the Swiss do by and large.

I believe the more precise argument being made in the Globe & Mail is that housing has simply gotten too expensive for middle-class incomes, so what we need is less government meddling and a reset before the market begins to re-appreciate in favor of the 66.5% of Canadians who are invested. While I certainly agree with the basic idea that we need to stop overtaxing new housing and reset our development cost structures, let's not ignore our clear housing paradox.

In Canada, we view housing as an investment, and that runs counter to the idea that housing should be as affordable as possible to the greatest number of people. As we know, this viewpoint isn't the same everywhere. Japan, for instance, has historically viewed housing as a consumer good. You bought it new, or built it new, when you needed it, and once you were done with it, the expectation was that there wouldn't be many buyers for it.

As recently as 2013, the percentage of existing housing transactions as a share of the overall housing market in Japan was only 14.7%, compared to over 89% in the US (2010 figure). The government has since worked to get this number up, but it shows a distinct historical view of housing. It also led to more daring residential architecture. If you're not concerned about what the next buyer might think, you become a little more free-willed.

The point of this post is not to pass a value judgement on any one approach; rather, it is to point out that there are many different ways to think about housing. Deciding the precise outcome we want is always going to be helpful in determining the right solutions.

Cover photo by Aditya Chinchure

Swiss housing occupancy status diagram from the FSO

Japan charts from the White Paper on Land, Infrastructure, Transport and Tourism in Japan 2015

Back in 2022, a Swedish startup called Corvid Cleaning made headlines by launching a pilot program in the city of Södertälje involving an operant conditioning device in the city's public realm. The machine allowed crows — which, it turns out, are pretty smart and social animals — to deposit discarded cigarette butts in exchange for food.

The machine itself would scan whatever the crows brought in, and if it was, in fact, a dirty butt, the machine automatically dispensed a small piece of food, such as a peanut. And because crows are social animals, the thinking was that they would then run and tell their friends, "Hey, I found us a great dinner spot!"

It's an alluring and unexpected concept. The hope was to slash the city's annual cleaning bill by getting the crows to do our dirty work. And that's why this "new pilot" seems to go viral periodically. But the reality is that Corvid Cleaning filed for bankruptcy in 2025 and, as far as I'm aware, this has in no way taken off as a viable solution for keeping our streets free of cigarettes.

The obvious problem is that cigarette butts are highly toxic, and so encouraging animals to transport them around is a suboptimal solution. Supposedly, crows are also a little too smart, and they started to try to game the system. Regardless, the prototype is dead. If only more of us could be like the Japanese, and not throw our garbage on the street.

Cover photo by Fatemeh Heidari

Many years ago, I was in a design meeting for a tall building we were working on and I brought up the idea of planting greenery all the way up the tower. You know, something like the Bosco Verticale in Milan.

But after I said this, our landscape architect looked at me and simply said, "No, it doesn't work, not in our climate." And that was it.

Of all the people in the room, I thought I could get the landscape architect excited about this suggestion, but nope. It got immediately shot down, and for good reason.

The greenery would be dead here in Toronto for not an insignificant part of the year, and the additional dead loads created by water-saturated soil and structural planters raise questions about whether it's the most sustainable way to build tall buildings.

But there are climates where green towers make a lot more sense, namely in places like Brazil. In fact, São Paulo rewards developers for integrating features such as green facades.

Here's a specific project example: The Rosewood Hotel in São Paulo, designed by Jean Nouvel. The 25-storey tower features an extensive lattice system on its exterior that, over time, is expected to fill in with greenery from adjacent roof gardens.

The hotel opened in 2022, and street view images from 2024 reveal that it still has some growing to do, but clearly it's a popular idea. I was just in the wrong city.

Photos via Rosewood São Paulo