All posts by Raymond Tomlin
#BCPoli | Humane, Innovative Housing Policy Delivered by British Columbia and Ottawa
Prime Minister Mark Carney held a press conference in Vancouver alongside British Columbia Premier David Eby on June 25, announcing innovative measures to create affordable housing in B.C.
The June 25th announcement by Mark Carney on behalf of the federal government, and British Columbia Premier David Eby should have been a triumph.
Instead, it became a communications debacle.
When Prime Minister Mark Carney stood alongside federal Housing Minister Gregor Robertson, B.C. Premier David Eby and B.C. Housing Minister Christine Boyle to announce that the federal and provincial governments would work together to purchase approximately 2,200 unsold condominiums and convert them into rent-to-own housing, the promise was immediately overshadowed by confusion.
The questions that came were entirely predictable.
- Where were these condominiums?
- Who owned them?
- Would taxpayers be paying full market value?
- Would they be located in Metro Vancouver, where housing shortages are most acute?
Neither Mr. Carney nor Mr. Eby provided answers during their announcement.
Instead of controlling the narrative, the governments allowed a vacuum to develop, one that was quickly filled by speculation, criticism and political attacks. Journalists demanded details that were not forthcoming, while federal Conservative leader Pierre Poilievre seized upon the uncertainty as evidence that the announcement was little more than political theatre.
Federal Conservative Party Leader Pierre Poilievre speaks out against the federal government’s proposal to purchase vacant condos, during a town hall meeting in Duncan, B.C.
It was, without question, one of the poorest communications roll-outs either the Carney government or the Eby government has experienced.
And yet, buried beneath the muddled messaging was an idea that deserves considerably more attention than it has received.
In the days following the announcement, Mr. Eby provided the missing details.
Contrary to widespread assumptions, the condominiums would not be concentrated in Metro Vancouver, or even in British Columbia’s largest urban centres. Rather, they would largely be acquired in smaller communities throughout the province where residential developments have stalled or failed altogether.
Many of these homes would be what the real estate industry describes as “distressed properties.”
These are condominiums sold under unfavourable financial circumstances because developers have encountered severe financial difficulties, entered receivership, declared bankruptcy or been forced into foreclosure, with licensed insolvency trustees disposing of assets well below their original market value.
Such circumstances create unusual opportunities for public acquisition.
Rather than paying retail prices, governments can often acquire these units at discounts ranging from 15% to 35% below market value.
Completed, distressed vacant condo building ready for sale below market value in Grand Forks, B.C.
Communities such as Grand Forks, and other smaller centres throughout the Okanagan, the Kootenays and Vancouver Island — including Duncan, Port Alberni and Campbell River — contain developments that fit this description.
These are not speculative purchases. They are existing homes. Completed homes. Vacant homes. Homes waiting for occupants.
That distinction matters enormously.
A typical condo construction timeline spans 2.5 to 5 years from initial sales launch to final move-in, a timeline that can stretch even longer due to complex excavation, permitting, and labour demands.
Governments have become accustomed to announcing ambitious affordable housing projects that require years of planning, environmental reviews, permitting, financing and construction before a family receives keys to a front door.
Typically, that timeline stretches three to four years, often longer.
Premier David Eby has argued that purchasing distressed condominium developments offers a dramatically different proposition.
- The homes already exist;
- The infrastructure is already built;
- Water, sewer, electrical service and roads are already in place;
- Families could move in almost immediately;
- The economics are equally compelling.
Constructing affordable rental housing has become extraordinarily expensive. Labour shortages, escalating material costs, financing expenses and municipal development charges have pushed construction costs to unprecedented levels.
Acquiring completed condominiums at significant discounts represents substantially better value for taxpayers while simultaneously rescuing developments that otherwise risk remaining empty for years.
The most important aspect of this initiative has received the least attention.
Behind every vacant condominium sits the possibility of a family whose life could be transformed. Not every homeless family sleeps on sidewalks. Many spend months couch surfing between relatives and friends. Some move weekly from one borrowed bedroom to another. Others sleep in aging recreational vehicles parked wherever municipal bylaws permit. Still others live in automobiles, desperately trying to shield children from the instability surrounding them.
For these families, housing is not merely shelter. Housing restores routine. It restores childhood. It restores educational stability, better physical health and improved mental health. It restores dignity.
The proposed rent-to-own model carries particular promise because it offers something beyond secure tenancy. It offers ownership.
Families who have spent years believing home ownership had become permanently unattainable may finally possess a realistic pathway toward building equity and long-term financial security. That possibility should not be underestimated.
If governments can purchase distressed condo developments substantially below replacement cost, rapidly convert them into affordable rent-to-own housing, and provide stable homes for thousands of families who otherwise face years of uncertainty, then taxpayers receive genuine value, while vulnerable British Columbians receive something infinitely more important than political messaging.
They receive hope.
In an age when political discourse increasingly rewards outrage over solutions, this initiative reminds us that governing still matters. It reminds us that budgets are, ultimately, moral documents reflecting the choices society makes about who deserves opportunity and who deserves security. Governments exist not merely to balance ledgers or score partisan victories, but to solve problems that markets alone cannot resolve. Housing is one of those problems.
We live in anxious times, when too many families have begun to wonder whether stability itself has become a luxury. Against uncertainty, both the B.C. and federal governments are attempting — however imperfectly — to meet the moment.
If vacant homes become places where children sleep safely, parents regain hope, and families begin building lives instead of merely surviving them, then history will remember not the fumbling announcement, but the quiet dignity of thousands of front doors opening onto a better future.
#VanPoli | City Politics, Development and Scandal on the Near Horizon
The Politics of Development, Corruption and Vancouver House. Thank you Robert Renger.
The story of Vancouver House is, depending on one’s perspective, either a triumph of architectural ambition or a cautionary tale about the dangers of a city becoming too closely aligned with the interests of powerful developers.
Today, the twisting glass tower at the foot of the Granville Bridge stands as one of Vancouver’s most recognizable landmarks. Designed by the internationally acclaimed Danish architect Bjarke Ingels and developed by Ian Gillespie’s Westbank Corp., Vancouver House has appeared in architectural journals around the world. Its dramatic form rises from a narrow triangular base before expanding into a rectangular tower as it climbs 58 storeys and 155 metres into the skyline.
Yet behind the celebrated architecture lies a political and financial controversy that has lingered for more than a decade and has now been reignited by findings from Vancouver Auditor General Mike Macdonell. What began as an ambitious redevelopment of awkward land beneath the Granville Bridge has evolved into one of the most contentious examples of Vancouver’s developer-driven era under former mayor Gregor Robertson and his governing party, Vision Vancouver.
Westbank Corp.’s Vancouver House, on Howe Street leading to the Granville Street bridge
For supporters, Vancouver House transformed a neglected urban void into a world-class architectural destination.
For critics, it exposed how City Hall bent rules, discounted public assets and abandoned promised public benefits in order to accommodate a politically connected developer.
The controversy stretches back to the late 2000s.
The triangular parcel beneath the Granville Bridge had long been considered difficult to develop. Previous proposals had failed.
The City of Vancouver eventually entered into negotiations with Westbank, which proposed an ambitious mixed-use development featuring luxury residential units, retail space and extensive public realm improvements.
What followed became one of the most controversial land transactions in modern Vancouver history.
Critics argued that Vision Vancouver effectively removed the site from the open market for approximately six years while Westbank assembled financing and refined its proposal. Opponents contended that the city was no longer acting as a neutral steward of public land, but had become a partner in realizing a specific developer’s vision.
One of the most persistent criticisms was that the city failed to test the market adequately and did not seek competing bids that might have generated significantly greater value for taxpayers.
In 2014, Glen Chernen, Cedar Party candidate for Mayor, who following days of day and night research of Vancouver City Hall was the first to expose the “corruption” associated with Vancouver House
These concerns were amplified by the work of Glen Chernen, who ran for Vancouver City Council in 2014 with the Cedar Party. During that election campaign, Chernen examined city documents and negotiations surrounding Vancouver House and raised questions about what he characterized as preferential treatment afforded to Westbank. His research helped bring public attention to agreements that had largely escaped broader scrutiny and contributed to growing concerns about the relationship between Vision Vancouver and major developers.
At the heart of the controversy was the price Westbank paid for the city-owned land.
Critics argued that Westbank acquired the property for approximately $32 million despite assessments and valuations suggesting a substantially higher market value. Over the years, opponents have repeatedly cited figures indicating the land’s value was closer to $119 million, arguing that taxpayers effectively subsidized the project through an undervalued transaction.
Whether those valuations can be directly compared remains disputed. Nevertheless, questions about whether the city maximized value from the sale have never fully disappeared.
Vancouver Auditor General, Mike Macdonell who in his 2026 scathing report to Vancouver City Council found concerning irregularities in the Vancouver House development process, in 2014 through 2026
Those concerns gained renewed legitimacy in February 2026 when Vancouver Auditor General Mike Macdonell released a major audit examining city land sales and exchanges. The report found that city staff did not consistently provide Council with all relevant information needed to determine whether land sales reflected market value. In some cases, land was sold for less than assessed value, and documentation supporting valuation decisions was incomplete.
While the audit was broader than Vancouver House alone, critics immediately connected its findings to long-standing concerns about the Westbank transaction.
Even more damaging was a separate whistleblower investigation that examined community amenity contributions associated with Vancouver House.
Community amenity contributions, known as CACs, are intended to ensure that when rezonings dramatically increase land values, the public receives a share of that value through amenities, infrastructure or cash contributions. According to city policy, rezonings are expected to capture a significant portion of the resulting “land lift” for public benefit.
The Vancouver House rezoning ultimately secured approximately $4 million in cash contributions and roughly $6 million in promised in-kind public improvements.
The problem, according to Macdonell’s investigation, is that many of those promised benefits either were never properly defined, were reduced, or were not adequately tracked and enforced by the city. The auditor found that the city’s management of these commitments fell below a reasonable standard and constituted “waste” under the city’s whistleblower framework.
Among the promised public improvements were enhanced pedestrian connections between Granville Street and the bridge structure above, upgraded public spaces, landscaping, seating areas, special lighting, event infrastructure and other public realm features. Over time, several elements were altered, reduced or abandoned. The auditor found evidence that city staff excused some obligations without ensuring equivalent public benefits were delivered in return.
The findings were particularly significant because they reinforced a criticism that had existed since the project’s approval: Vision Vancouver’s enthusiasm for landmark architecture overshadowed its responsibility to protect the public interest.
Critics argue that Vancouver House became emblematic of a broader governing philosophy that dominated City Hall during the Robertson years. Vision Vancouver promoted density, urban design excellence and partnerships with the private sector. Many of the city’s most ambitious projects emerged during this period.
Yet opponents increasingly argued that City Hall had become too close to the development industry.
The Vancouver House negotiations appeared, to many observers, to confirm those fears.
Retired planner Robert Renger brings the Vancouver House controversy to the fore
Retired Burnaby planner Robert Renger became one of the most persistent voices raising concerns about the project. Renger, who had extensive experience negotiating major development agreements, filed complaints and provided information that ultimately contributed to the Auditor General’s investigations. He argued that Vancouver House represented a failure to maximize public value and a failure to enforce negotiated public benefits.
Renger’s concerns were not focused primarily on architecture. Rather, they centred on governance.
His argument was straightforward: if developers receive enormous increases in land value through rezonings, the public should receive commensurate benefits. When those benefits are reduced, deferred or abandoned without compensation, taxpayers effectively absorb the loss.
The Auditor General’s findings did not conclude that bribery, fraud or criminal corruption occurred. In fact, the report explicitly noted that the circumstances did not meet the threshold for serious wrongdoing in the legal sense and found no evidence of fraud.
Nevertheless, the report painted a troubling picture of weak oversight, poor documentation and inadequate protection of public interests.
That distinction is important.
Political scandal does not necessarily require criminal conduct.
A city can follow legal procedures and still make decisions that produce poor outcomes for taxpayers.
In the eyes of many critics, that is precisely what happened with Vancouver House.
The irony is that the project itself is, in many respects, a success.
Vancouver House has become an internationally recognized architectural icon. It transformed an awkward and neglected site. It helped redefine the southern entrance to downtown Vancouver. The building’s engineering and design innovations have been celebrated globally.
But success in architecture does not automatically translate into success in public policy.
The project was also controversial because of how it was marketed. During Vancouver’s housing affordability crisis, luxury condominiums in Vancouver House were aggressively promoted overseas, particularly in Hong Kong and mainland China. Many Vancouver residents viewed the marketing strategy as symbolic of a city increasingly designed for global wealth rather than local residents.
The optics were especially damaging during a period when housing prices were accelerating beyond the reach of many middle-class families.
To critics, Vancouver House represented not merely a building but a broader economic model: public land converted into luxury housing marketed internationally while affordability worsened at home.
The lingering question is why subsequent city councils have done so little.
A photo of the newly elected, or re-elected, members of the 2022 Vancouver City Council
Since Vision Vancouver’s defeat in 2018, two entirely different governing administrations have controlled Vancouver City Hall. First came the minority Council elected in 2018. Then came the ABC Vancouver administration under Ken Sim.
Neither administration has aggressively pursued remedies related to Vancouver House.
There are several possible explanations.
First, many of the agreements were legally finalized years ago, limiting available remedies.
Second, governments are often reluctant to reopen complex development contracts because doing so can trigger litigation and financial risk.
Third, Vancouver remains heavily dependent on private-sector development to finance infrastructure, amenities and housing construction. Political leaders may fear that aggressively challenging major developers could undermine future investment.
And finally, there is the uncomfortable reality that municipal governments of every political stripe often inherit decisions they would prefer not to revisit.
Yet the Auditor General’s findings have ensured that the controversy will not disappear.
The central question remains remarkably simple.
An elevator connecting the Granville Street Bridge and Granville Island was proposed as a way to improve access to the often gridlocked island that could have, in part, met Westbank’s obligations
Did Vancouver receive fair value for public land, public density and public approvals?
The architectural success of Vancouver House cannot answer that question.
The beauty of the building cannot answer it.
The prestige associated with Bjarke Ingels cannot answer it.
The Auditor General’s reports suggest that documentation was inadequate, public benefits were poorly managed and opportunities to maximize value may have been missed.
For critics such as Robert Renger and Glen Chernen, those findings validate concerns they have been raising for years.
For defenders of the project, Vancouver House remains a remarkable example of what ambitious city-building can achieve.
Perhaps both interpretations contain elements of truth.
Vancouver House is simultaneously one of Vancouver’s greatest architectural achievements and one of its most enduring political controversies. It stands as a glittering monument at the gateway to downtown —a building that transformed the skyline while raising difficult questions about governance, accountability and the relationship between public institutions and private power.
Long after debates about its twisting form have faded, those questions may prove to be the building’s most lasting legacy.
#Cinema | The Tyranny of the Tomatometer: How Aggregated Scores Are Killing Cinema Going
There was a time — not that long ago — when moviegoing required curiosity.
You read a few critics, maybe listened to a friend’s recommendation, and decided whether to spend two hours in the dark discovering something new.
Today, that act of discovery has largely been replaced by a single number. Before many people even consider seeing a film, they glance at a percentage on Rotten Tomatoes, or a numerical score on Metacritic. If the number is high, the film is deemed worth watching. If it is low, it might as well not exist.
The result is one of the most profound — and least discussed — transformations in the modern film industry.
Review aggregation has quietly reshaped the way audiences choose movies, the way studios finance them, and even the kinds of films that get made. In the process, it has flattened audience taste, suffocated mid-budget filmmaking, and helped create the blockbuster monoculture that now dominates cinema.
The Reduction of Criticism to a Number
Film criticism once thrived on disagreement. One critic might celebrate a bold experiment while another dismissed it as indulgent. That tension created a conversation around movies.
Aggregators ended that conversation by reducing criticism to arithmetic. On Rotten Tomatoes, reviews are translated into a simple binary: “fresh” or “rotten.” The site’s famous Tomatometer then calculates the percentage of critics who gave a positive review.
In practice, this system erases nuance. A film that receives dozens of mildly positive reviews can achieve a dazzling 90% score, even if no critic thought it was particularly great. Meanwhile, a polarizing masterpiece that divides critics — half loving it, half hating it —might end up with a mediocre score.
The number becomes the narrative.
And because audiences increasingly rely on that number to decide what to watch, a film’s reputation is often determined before the public has even seen it.
The Self-Fulfilling Prophecy of Success
Hollywood has noticed. In fact, studios have been obsessing over Rotten Tomatoes scores for years.
The industry’s anxiety became obvious during the summer of 2017, when several heavily marketed films opened far below expectations after receiving poor Tomatometer scores. Studios privately blamed Rotten Tomatoes for undermining their marketing campaigns, while highly rated films like Wonder Woman benefited from glowing scores and exceeded expectations at the box office.
Films are now judged almost instantly by their aggregated scores. A low rating can create a perception of failure before opening weekend even begins. A high rating can generate momentum and headlines. Either way, the number becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Once audiences internalize the logic of the score, they begin to behave accordingly: avoiding films with bad numbers and flocking to those with good ones.
The Crushing of the Mid-Budget Film
Kristen Stewart and Andrew Garfield on the red carpet at the Independent Spirit Awards ceremony
The biggest casualty of this culture is the mid-budget movie — the $20-$60 million drama, thriller, or adult comedy that once formed the backbone of Hollywood.
These films depend heavily on word-of-mouth and critical reception. That means they are far more vulnerable to aggregated scores than massive franchise films with huge marketing budgets. In fact, research suggests Rotten Tomatoes has a greater effect on smaller or independent movies than on major blockbusters.
For a mid-budget film, a weak score can be fatal. It discourages audiences from giving the movie a chance and convinces studios that similar projects are too risky.
The lesson Hollywood has absorbed is simple: if audiences are choosing movies based on numbers, studios should make films that are least likely to receive negative numbers.
The safest way to do that is to make movies audiences already know.
Sequels. Franchises. Superheroes.
The Homogenization of Taste
Aggregated scores quietly reshape the psychology of moviegoers themselves.
When audiences use a single metric to choose entertainment, they gravitate toward consensus. The safest choice becomes the one everyone else appears to like.
Over time, this process homogenizes the marketplace. Films that aim for broad approval — competent, inoffensive entertainment — perform better in aggregated scoring systems than films that take risks or challenge viewers.
The result is a feedback loop: audiences follow the scores, studios follow the audiences, and the entire system rewards safe mediocrity.
Gaming the System
Once numbers became powerful, the temptation was to manipulate them.
Studios now carefully manage early screenings to influence aggregated scores. Positive early reactions can create a high initial rating that attracts audiences before more critical reviews appear. In some cases, marketing campaigns have even tried to boost a film’s rating by selectively promoting favorable critics or delaying negative reviews.
Meanwhile, user scores on sites like Metacritic and Rotten Tomatoes can be distorted by organized campaigns known as “review bombing,” where groups flood a site with extreme ratings for political or cultural reasons unrelated to the film itself.
When the system becomes a battlefield of manipulated numbers, the illusion of objectivity collapses.
Yet the numbers remain.
Cinema as Data
Perhaps the most troubling consequence of aggregation culture is philosophical.
Cinema is an art form built on subjectivity. The experience of a film is deeply personal —shaped by mood, taste, memory, and emotion. Turning that experience into a percentage suggests a false precision.
And so cinema — one of the most expressive art forms ever invented — has been reduced to a metric.
Rediscovering Curiosity
The tragedy is not that Rotten Tomatoes and Metacritic exist. Aggregating reviews can be useful. The tragedy is how completely those scores have come to dominate the conversation.
A score should be the beginning of exploration, not the final verdict.
If the future of cinema is decided by percentages alone, the industry will continue drifting toward the safest, most predictable movies imaginable.
And the next generation of great films — the strange, polarizing, risky ones that critics initially disagree about — may never get the chance to exist.
The tyranny of the Tomatometer is not just changing how we judge movies.
It is quietly changing which movies get made at all.