Yessiree Bob, it took a little old lady from Pasadena little old immigrant woman from Hong Kong wearing the big pants necessary to set Toronto free of the 12 consecutive years of right-wing induced financial and fiscal ruin, crumbling infrastructure, decaying state of good repair and duct taped patched service delivery infamously wrought upon the people of Toronto by a drug addled right-wing kook of a mayor, a Little Lord Fauntleroy short pants wearing, tremulous right-wing sex-crazed mayor and their right-wing council majority sniveling weasels.
It was a day at city hall like nobody has seen since amalgamation
With hardly any fuss, a tax increase was voted in at roughly three times the rate of inflation. As it turned out, it wasn't even the most controversial thing on the agenda.
ByEdward KeenanCity Columnist
Wednesday, February 14, 2024
You hang around city hall long enough, you see plenty of weird things. Over more than two decades watching this place, I've seen a mayor (accidentally) physically tackle one of his colleagues, I've seen a council try to eliminate a plastic bag tax and wind up accidentally banning plastic bags instead, I've seen reports on cash handed over in the parking garage in plastic bags.
But something happened on Wednesday that I'd never seen here before.
A tax increase roughly three times the rate of inflation was adopted, at 9.5 per cent, with hardly any fuss. As it turned out, it wasn't even the most controversial thing on the agenda. The mayor's council colleagues, ultimately with her co-operation, insisted on saving the snowplow windrow clearing service and giving the police more money than originally planned. But the largest tax increase in post-amalgamation history didn't get changed or even all that vigorously debated. A motion by Coun.
Vincent Crisanti to lower that increase by one per cent was outvoted by more than a 2-1 margin.
Look, many other cities have passed big tax increases like that before, and many, many other cities already pay tax rates far higher than Toronto's. But hanging around Toronto city hall for years and years, you got the impression that doing that wasn't even possible in this place — that local voters would never stand for it. You'd start to believe that no majority of city councillors would have the backbone to even see if people would stand for it.
I mean, I remember a time in 2013 when council held a special meeting because the financial situation was dire and they had a long list of revenue tools to consider, and then at the end they systematically voted to forbid consideration of each and every one.
City managers — different managers in different years in different decades — would all get up and tell a familiar story using colourful metaphors (icebergs! cliffs!) about how the city had a huge revenue problem, a structural deficit caused by provincial downloading but exacerbated by the city having the lowest property taxes of any comparable city. And after hearing that, every year, political leaders would solemnly swear that their top priority was to keep tax increases at or below the rate of inflation.
Occasionally, someone would do something to increase revenue. David Miller introduced the land transfer tax. Rob Ford created a special tax levy for the Scarborough subway. John Tory tried to introduce road tolls, and did create a "city building levy."
A plain old property tax increase was, for years, feared as if it were the boogeyman — too scary to even look at. Until suddenly now they forced to look and see the monster they feared was nothing to be scared of.
We still don't know fully how the people of Toronto are going to receive this, obviously. Mayor Olivia Chow's popularity has taken a hit through this budget process according to a recent poll, though a majority of people still approve of her performance. It may be citizens revolt when they get their bills in the mail and see an increase of a few hundred dollars. Maybe.
But the protests outside city hall (and, briefly, in the chamber on Wednesday) were not against tax increases. They were against increasing the police budget, and were instead asking for more funding for shelters and housing and services for poor people.
And then inside the meeting, councillors spent far more time in their speeches talking about how important the $16-million windrow program that plows snow banks out of the ends of suburban driveways is to their constituents, and explaining why they support or oppose the $12.6 million added to the budget for police by an amendment ultimately supported by Mayor Chow. Only a few eccentrics — including Coun. Anthony Perruzza, doing a good impression of someone unfamiliar with the basic procedures of the budget voting process — talked at any length about the tax rate. Many of those who accepted the 9.5 per cent increase without much complaint Wednesday are the same people who have long avoided any talk about the need for such an increase, and were the same people who voted not to even consider tax increases in the past. Many of them served in key roles in the administrations of the past two mayors whose core promises were not to raise these rates.
What changed? Maybe some of the visible deterioration of some city infrastructure got to a point beyond ignoring? Maybe the effects of COVID on revenue caused a new-found reconsideration of what was needed? Or maybe it's just a matter that once someone in charge decided it would be worth the political cost to do it, councillors looked around and realized the political cost wasn't going to be as high as they'd always thought?
Whatever the case, it was a relatively tame meeting of council where this bold new frontier was breached. No one was tackled, voices were barely raised, the results of the day never seemed in doubt. And a motion to keep the property tax increase down only got six votes in total.
Coun. Michael Thompson (an ally of former mayor Rob Ford, a deputy mayor of former mayor John Tory) employed a tortured "place kicking" metaphor to explain this was a "special" budget among those he's seen in 21 years on council because the mayor was not "punting" as others always have, but was trying to meet the tough challenges the city faces.
Over years in the council chamber, you get used to seeing strange things often enough that they come to seem normal. But in all the years since amalgamation, no one here has ever seen a day like this.
It was a day at city hall like nobody has seen since amalgamation
With hardly any fuss, a tax increase was voted in at roughly three times the rate of inflation. As it turned out, it wasn't even the most controversial thing on the agenda.
ByEdward KeenanCity Columnist
Wednesday, February 14, 2024
You hang around city hall long enough, you see plenty of weird things. Over more than two decades watching this place, I've seen a mayor (accidentally) physically tackle one of his colleagues, I've seen a council try to eliminate a plastic bag tax and wind up accidentally banning plastic bags instead, I've seen reports on cash handed over in the parking garage in plastic bags.
But something happened on Wednesday that I'd never seen here before.
A tax increase roughly three times the rate of inflation was adopted, at 9.5 per cent, with hardly any fuss. As it turned out, it wasn't even the most controversial thing on the agenda. The mayor's council colleagues, ultimately with her co-operation, insisted on saving the snowplow windrow clearing service and giving the police more money than originally planned. But the largest tax increase in post-amalgamation history didn't get changed or even all that vigorously debated. A motion by Coun.
Vincent Crisanti to lower that increase by one per cent was outvoted by more than a 2-1 margin.
Look, many other cities have passed big tax increases like that before, and many, many other cities already pay tax rates far higher than Toronto's. But hanging around Toronto city hall for years and years, you got the impression that doing that wasn't even possible in this place — that local voters would never stand for it. You'd start to believe that no majority of city councillors would have the backbone to even see if people would stand for it.
I mean, I remember a time in 2013 when council held a special meeting because the financial situation was dire and they had a long list of revenue tools to consider, and then at the end they systematically voted to forbid consideration of each and every one.
City managers — different managers in different years in different decades — would all get up and tell a familiar story using colourful metaphors (icebergs! cliffs!) about how the city had a huge revenue problem, a structural deficit caused by provincial downloading but exacerbated by the city having the lowest property taxes of any comparable city. And after hearing that, every year, political leaders would solemnly swear that their top priority was to keep tax increases at or below the rate of inflation.
Occasionally, someone would do something to increase revenue. David Miller introduced the land transfer tax. Rob Ford created a special tax levy for the Scarborough subway. John Tory tried to introduce road tolls, and did create a "city building levy."
A plain old property tax increase was, for years, feared as if it were the boogeyman — too scary to even look at. Until suddenly now they forced to look and see the monster they feared was nothing to be scared of.
We still don't know fully how the people of Toronto are going to receive this, obviously. Mayor Olivia Chow's popularity has taken a hit through this budget process according to a recent poll, though a majority of people still approve of her performance. It may be citizens revolt when they get their bills in the mail and see an increase of a few hundred dollars. Maybe.
But the protests outside city hall (and, briefly, in the chamber on Wednesday) were not against tax increases. They were against increasing the police budget, and were instead asking for more funding for shelters and housing and services for poor people.
And then inside the meeting, councillors spent far more time in their speeches talking about how important the $16-million windrow program that plows snow banks out of the ends of suburban driveways is to their constituents, and explaining why they support or oppose the $12.6 million added to the budget for police by an amendment ultimately supported by Mayor Chow. Only a few eccentrics — including Coun. Anthony Perruzza, doing a good impression of someone unfamiliar with the basic procedures of the budget voting process — talked at any length about the tax rate. Many of those who accepted the 9.5 per cent increase without much complaint Wednesday are the same people who have long avoided any talk about the need for such an increase, and were the same people who voted not to even consider tax increases in the past. Many of them served in key roles in the administrations of the past two mayors whose core promises were not to raise these rates.
What changed? Maybe some of the visible deterioration of some city infrastructure got to a point beyond ignoring? Maybe the effects of COVID on revenue caused a new-found reconsideration of what was needed? Or maybe it's just a matter that once someone in charge decided it would be worth the political cost to do it, councillors looked around and realized the political cost wasn't going to be as high as they'd always thought?
Whatever the case, it was a relatively tame meeting of council where this bold new frontier was breached. No one was tackled, voices were barely raised, the results of the day never seemed in doubt. And a motion to keep the property tax increase down only got six votes in total.
Coun. Michael Thompson (an ally of former mayor Rob Ford, a deputy mayor of former mayor John Tory) employed a tortured "place kicking" metaphor to explain this was a "special" budget among those he's seen in 21 years on council because the mayor was not "punting" as others always have, but was trying to meet the tough challenges the city faces.
Over years in the council chamber, you get used to seeing strange things often enough that they come to seem normal. But in all the years since amalgamation, no one here has ever seen a day like this.