Years ago, when grand transit plans were still just sketches on a politician’s desk, a simple truth seemed glaringly obvious: Toronto needed subways. Like the late Mayor Rob Ford, the conviction was unwavering – subways, and nothing less. The core reason wasn’t about ambition, but practicality, specifically, the brutal reality of Toronto winters.
The Finch LRT barely tasted its first days of operation before a modest snowfall brought it to its knees. “Weather-related incidents” were the explanation, a polite euphemism for a system unprepared for the inevitable. It wasn’t a surprise, and it served as a stark warning about the choices made.
Consider the stations along the Eglinton line. The stop at Pharmacy is little more than a flimsy shelter stranded in the middle of a roaring highway. Imagine waiting there as a blizzard descends, or when temperatures plummet to bone-chilling lows. The line dips underground as it nears the city center, but in Scarborough, it’s exposed, vulnerable to the elements.
A familiar pattern emerged: downtown receives the benefits, while the suburbs are left with inadequate solutions. The slow decay of the Scarborough RT, allowed to deteriorate until a derailment, was a chilling preview of what could happen again. It was a demonstration of neglect, a pattern of prioritizing convenience over reliability.
Those who dismissed the subway idea – the “transit experts” – claimed it was a matter of affordability. They insisted light rail was the quickest, cheapest path forward. But the reality is unfolding in a way that proves them wrong. The combined cost of the Finch and Eglinton lines could have funded a subway stretching all the way to Ottawa.
Ottawa itself opted for an LRT in a climate even harsher than Toronto’s, and the results have been…troubling. The struggles there serve as a cautionary tale, a stark reminder that choosing the cheapest option isn’t always the wisest.
Before the rise of LRTs, there was no Metrolinx. It was a creation of a previous government, and quickly ballooned into an organization filled with highly-paid administrators. Despite the abundance of expertise, the projects consistently missed deadlines and exceeded budgets, raising a fundamental question: what were all those resources actually achieving?
A story from a past inquiry into a tragic subway accident illustrates a deeper problem. A senior manager, confronted with a critical piece of equipment, couldn’t explain how it functioned. One by one, other managers failed to demonstrate understanding. It was a humble worker, clad in worn overalls, who silently showed everyone how it worked. It revealed a disturbing truth about the organization: those in charge didn’t necessarily understand the system they oversaw.
Having grown up in London, a city renowned for its exceptional public transit, the contrast was striking. The London Underground was a lifeline, a network navigated with ease from childhood. London built subways, and then built more subways. It’s doubtful those who scoffed at the idea of Toronto subways have ventured much beyond the city limits.
The construction of the Eglinton Crosstown has already taken a toll, removing vital lanes from a major east-west artery. The resulting configuration is confusing, poorly signed, and has already claimed a life. Now, the city faces both a crippled transit system and increased congestion. The question lingers: how much were those “experts” paid to champion a flawed solution?
Studies at the time acknowledged the higher upfront cost of subways, but argued they were the right long-term investment. That advice was ignored. Rob Ford was ridiculed, and others who voiced similar concerns were dismissed. The result? Two transit lines that are, quite literally, frozen in time, a testament to short-sighted planning and a failure to prioritize the needs of the city.
