 
		        Kelly  McParland: Toronto the Broke learning the hard lesson that it no longer holds  the allure it once did 
The city cannot  continue to raise revenue by nickel-and-diming newcomers and suburbanites
        
Nationalpost.com
        Jan. 24, 2023
        Kelly McParland
  
        Among the many  challenges of living in Canada’s biggest metropolis, one impulse is never far  from Toronto’s collective consciousness: getting other people to pay its bills.
      
In Ontario,  municipal governments aren’t legally allowed to run deficits, but every year  the country’s financial centre and most populous city discovers itself deep in  a hole. In November 2020, it projected a shortage for the year ahead of $1.8  billion. Twelve months later, it anticipated a shortfall of $703 million. Its  recently released 2023 budget adds $484 million still needed from last year to  $1.08 billion for this year, for a combined $1.6 billion.
        
The figures are  distorted by heavy COVID-related expenses but the annual scramble to fill the  hole is a traditional rite. And the preferred solution is always the same: a  plea for the federal and provincial governments to kick in more dough. “It’s  not lost on me that those two governments are both running a surplus at the  moment. We’re not,” noted Mayor John Tory in discussing the latest figures. And  what else would anyone do with a surplus but immediately spend it?
        
        There are  significant restraints -- some certainly debatable -- on the ability of towns  and cities to raise revenue, even with the new “strong mayor” powers introduced  by Ontario Premier Doug Ford. Nonetheless, one of Toronto’s biggest barriers is  self-imposed: the city’s property taxes are lower than almost anywhere else in  the province, and it makes a fetish of refusing to increase them.
Since he became mayor two terms ago, Tory has stuck to a pledge to keep increases in line with inflation. Even with this year’s 5.5 per cent residential property tax hike, Toronto still trails the belt of suburban communities surrounding it, and beyond.
The real estate  website Zoocasa surveyed 35 Ontario municipalities and found Toronto’s tax rate  to be the lowest of the bunch. Though it vies with Vancouver for Canada’s  highest-priced homes, a $1 million property in Hamilton, Oshawa, Kingston or  London would pay double Toronto’s tax. In Windsor, it would be triple. (Though  it’s not likely you’d ever find a home in central Toronto priced at a measly $1  million.)
        The theory is  that granny and gramps shouldn’t be impoverished by high taxes on the home they  bought a generation ago at a reasonable price. It’s not a bad theory, but it  doesn’t explain why newcomers who are able to pony up millions to get into the  housing game should get a perpetual break on the services, or why all the  grannies and grampses in the rest of the province seem able to handle higher  rates.
Tory is hardly  the first mayor to resist billing Torontonians for their full expenses. His  predecessors opted for myriad fees and licences, including a land transfer tax  that forces newcomers to pay up to enter the housing market. Local politicos  promote all sorts of schemes to raise money, usually focused on getting other  people to kick in more to the pot.
        
        One favoured  idea involves slapping tolls on the two main commuter routes in and out of the  city, on the assumption that suburban commuters would bear most of the brunt.  Tory thought he’d won provincial approval for a toll plan a few years back  until the premier of the day backed down following an uproar from suburban  voters.
In the latest  push, a group of bright sparks on the new council have seized on the notion of  taxing commercial parking spaces, figuring they could rake in $500 million for  the annual kitty. Homeowners would be exempted, of course.
        
        Problem is, no  one seems to have noticed that Toronto businesses are struggling to recover  from years of COVID-induced damage. Hundreds of outlets from big chains and  small operators alike have shut their doors, the vital tech industry is in  meltdown, office towers echo with empty space and are desperate to get people  to return to the city, while new construction projects continue to add to the  oversupply.
        
        Toronto sees  itself as the engine of the economy, which shares its bounty generously and  should thus be recognized by way of a little help with the bills. There is  merit to this view: keeping roads and transit in working order is a hefty  expense and has been getting increasingly out of hand.
This year’s  Toronto Transit Commission subsidy will total $960 million, despite a fare  increase. Public safety is another burgeoning cost in a city with a growing  array of crime concerns. What’s missing from the equation is the  pandemic-driven evidence that not everyone is eager to spend their days amid  the city’s office canyons, now that they’ve discovered they don’t have to. Many  of the busy bees of the Toronto hive are happy making their honey at home, and  jacking up the cost and bother of returning to the fold isn’t going to change  their minds.
        
Though immigration continues to feed in new arrivals, the pandemic saw more people moving out of the city than moving in. The fastest-growing municipalities around the Lake Ontario population belt have names like East Gwillimbury, New Tecumseh, Thorold, Bradford West and Milton, all distant outposts on the ring of border communities that keep getting a longer and more expensive commute away from the bank towers and cramped condominiums that downtown dwellers imagine retain some of the allure they once held.
They may be in for a surprise. Like it or not, other people may decide Toronto needs to look somewhere other than their pockets for a means out of its dilemma. Raising their costs isn’t a good place to start.