In looking at the chart, you'll see that the City of Toronto actually lost about 2,000 units from its existing housing stock between 2019 and 2021. Again, these numbers only consider what's happening in the city's existing low-rise residential housing stock. They don't factor any of the housing supply being delivered through new condominiums and multi-family apartments.

Still, it's evidence for something that is perhaps already well known: many of Toronto's low-rise neighborhoods are losing people. They are losing people because the existing structures are housing fewer residents and they are losing people because we make it difficult to build new housing. We want them to be "stable." But stable built form doesn't necessarily mean that things aren't changing on the inside.

Now compare this to what's happening in Brampton (a suburb of Toronto). CUR is calling Brampton the land of secondary suites. Over the last three years, it added nearly 11,000 housing units and was on pace (at the time the data was published) to create nearly 6,000 last year alone (most of which are basement apartments). This is all within its existing housing stock.

With all of this, I think there's an interesting question about about how much of this is being driven by market demand and how much of this is being driven by land use policies. There's obviously demand for expensive single-family homes in Toronto, which is why "deconversions" are happening. But to what extent does this change if/when we become more permissive around multi-unit dwellings?

I think it depends on how we craft the policies.

Here are two excerpts from a recent Globe and Mail article -- titled "Toronto's mix of planning rules limits growth of mid-rise housing" -- that speaks to this dynamic:

For well over two decades, Toronto’s official plan has called for transit-oriented intensification along the “Avenues,” much of it expected in the form of mid-rise apartments that can be approved “as of right” – meaning without zoning or official plan appeals. Such buildings are often seen as more livable and human scale than 50- or 60-storey towers.

Yet, ironically, the highly prescriptive Mid-Rise Guidelines – combined with skyrocketing land, labour and building costs, as well as timelines that can run to six years for a mid-sized building – have turned these projects into pyramid-shaped unicorns, often filled with deep, dark and narrow units dubbed “bowling alleys.”

“The economics are so frail,” says architect Dermot Sweeny, founding principal of Sweeny & Co., who describes the angular plane requirements as “a massive cost” because they make the structure more complicated and expensive while reducing the amount of leasable or saleable floor space.

The critiques extend beyond the industry. Professor of architecture Richard Sommer, former dean of the John H. Daniels Faculty of Landscape, Architecture and Design at the University of Toronto, describes the controls in the guidelines as “very crude.” “They’re built around a mindset of deference to low-rise communities.”

My opinion is that, at a minimum, we need to revisit the "guidelines" that govern these kinds of projects and we need to make this scale of development "as-of-right." In the same way that laneway suites work, where you simply apply for a building permit, we need to make it just as easy for mid-rise housing. There just too many barriers and too many opportunities for something to come up that could hold up the entire project for months or years.

Building at a variety of scales is important for the fabric and vitality of our cities. Unfortunately, I have all but made up my mind that small doesn't work unless it's as-of-right. I would love to build another laneway house and I fully expect that to happen at some point in the near future. But I just can't seem to get my head around another mid-rise building right now. I wish that wasn't the case. And it's certainly not because of a lack of effort.

In looking at the chart, you'll see that the City of Toronto actually lost about 2,000 units from its existing housing stock between 2019 and 2021. Again, these numbers only consider what's happening in the city's existing low-rise residential housing stock. They don't factor any of the housing supply being delivered through new condominiums and multi-family apartments.

Still, it's evidence for something that is perhaps already well known: many of Toronto's low-rise neighborhoods are losing people. They are losing people because the existing structures are housing fewer residents and they are losing people because we make it difficult to build new housing. We want them to be "stable." But stable built form doesn't necessarily mean that things aren't changing on the inside.

Now compare this to what's happening in Brampton (a suburb of Toronto). CUR is calling Brampton the land of secondary suites. Over the last three years, it added nearly 11,000 housing units and was on pace (at the time the data was published) to create nearly 6,000 last year alone (most of which are basement apartments). This is all within its existing housing stock.

With all of this, I think there's an interesting question about about how much of this is being driven by market demand and how much of this is being driven by land use policies. There's obviously demand for expensive single-family homes in Toronto, which is why "deconversions" are happening. But to what extent does this change if/when we become more permissive around multi-unit dwellings?

I think it depends on how we craft the policies.

Here are two excerpts from a recent Globe and Mail article -- titled "Toronto's mix of planning rules limits growth of mid-rise housing" -- that speaks to this dynamic:

For well over two decades, Toronto’s official plan has called for transit-oriented intensification along the “Avenues,” much of it expected in the form of mid-rise apartments that can be approved “as of right” – meaning without zoning or official plan appeals. Such buildings are often seen as more livable and human scale than 50- or 60-storey towers.

Yet, ironically, the highly prescriptive Mid-Rise Guidelines – combined with skyrocketing land, labour and building costs, as well as timelines that can run to six years for a mid-sized building – have turned these projects into pyramid-shaped unicorns, often filled with deep, dark and narrow units dubbed “bowling alleys.”

“The economics are so frail,” says architect Dermot Sweeny, founding principal of Sweeny & Co., who describes the angular plane requirements as “a massive cost” because they make the structure more complicated and expensive while reducing the amount of leasable or saleable floor space.

The critiques extend beyond the industry. Professor of architecture Richard Sommer, former dean of the John H. Daniels Faculty of Landscape, Architecture and Design at the University of Toronto, describes the controls in the guidelines as “very crude.” “They’re built around a mindset of deference to low-rise communities.”

My opinion is that, at a minimum, we need to revisit the "guidelines" that govern these kinds of projects and we need to make this scale of development "as-of-right." In the same way that laneway suites work, where you simply apply for a building permit, we need to make it just as easy for mid-rise housing. There just too many barriers and too many opportunities for something to come up that could hold up the entire project for months or years.

Building at a variety of scales is important for the fabric and vitality of our cities. Unfortunately, I have all but made up my mind that small doesn't work unless it's as-of-right. I would love to build another laneway house and I fully expect that to happen at some point in the near future. But I just can't seem to get my head around another mid-rise building right now. I wish that wasn't the case. And it's certainly not because of a lack of effort.

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