The Quiet Obsolescence of the Realtor

For decades, the realtor profession has occupied a privileged position at the intersection of information, access, and emotion. It has thrived not because it delivered exceptional analytical insight, but because the housing market was fragmented, opaque, and intimidating. Artificial intelligence now attacks all three conditions simultaneously. What follows is not disruption in the Silicon Valley sense, but something more final: structural redundancy.

At its core, the modern realtor performs four functions. They mediate access to listings and comparables. They translate market information for buyers and sellers. They manage paperwork and timelines. They provide emotional reassurance during a stressful transaction. None of these functions are uniquely human, and none are protected by durable professional moats. AI does not need to outperform the best realtors to render the profession obsolete. It only needs to outperform the median one, consistently and cheaply.

Information asymmetry has always been the realtor’s true asset. Buyers rarely know whether a property is fairly priced. Sellers seldom understand how interest rates, seasonality, or neighbourhood micro-trends affect demand. Realtors position themselves as guides through this uncertainty. AI collapses this advantage. Large language models and predictive systems can already ingest sales histories, tax records, zoning changes, school catchment shifts, insurance risk data, and macroeconomic indicators, then produce probabilistic valuations with confidence ranges. This is not opinion. It is inference at scale. As these systems improve, the gap between what a realtor “feels” a home is worth and what the data suggests will become impossible to ignore.

Negotiation, often cited as a core human strength, is equally vulnerable. Most real estate negotiations follow predictable patterns. Anchoring strategies, concession timing, deadline pressure, and scarcity framing repeat across markets and price bands. AI systems trained on millions of historical transactions will recognize these patterns instantly and counter them without ego, fatigue, or miscalculation. More importantly, AI negotiators do not confuse persuasion with performance. They are indifferent to theatre. Their goal is outcome optimization within defined parameters, not rapport building for its own sake.

The administrative side of the profession is already living on borrowed time. Contracts, disclosures, financing contingencies, inspection clauses, and closing schedules are structured processes, not creative acts. AI excels at structured workflows. It does not forget deadlines. It does not miss addenda. It does not “interpret” forms differently depending on mood or experience level. Once regulators approve AI-verified transaction pipelines, the argument that a realtor is needed to shepherd paperwork will collapse almost overnight.

The final refuge is emotion. Buying or selling a home is deeply personal, and the stress involved is real. Yet this defence confuses emotional need with professional necessity. Emotional support does not require a commission-based intermediary whose financial incentive is to close any deal rather than the right deal. AI exposes this conflict of interest with uncomfortable clarity. As buyers and sellers gain access to transparent analysis and neutral negotiation tools, trust in commission-driven advice will erode. Emotional reassurance will not disappear, but it will migrate to fee-only advisors, lawyers, or entirely new roles untethered from transaction volume.

What survives will not resemble the profession as it exists today. A small ceremonial layer will remain. High-end luxury markets, where branding and lifestyle storytelling matter more than pricing precision, will continue to employ human intermediaries. In opaque or relationship-driven local markets, trusted facilitators may persist. These roles will look less like brokers and more like concierges. Compensation will shift from commissions to retainers or flat fees. The mass-market realtor, however, will find no such refuge.

The timeline for this transition is shorter than many in the industry are prepared to admit. Within five years, AI systems will routinely outperform average realtors in pricing accuracy, negotiation strategy, and transaction planning. Within a decade, end-to-end AI-mediated real estate platforms will be normal in most developed markets. The profession will not collapse in a single moment. It will erode quietly, then suddenly, as transaction volumes migrate elsewhere.

This trajectory mirrors other professions that mistook access and familiarity for irreplaceable value. Travel agents, once indispensable, now survive only in niche, high-touch segments. Stockbrokers followed a similar path as algorithmic trading and low-cost platforms eliminated their informational advantage. Realtors are next, and unlike law or medicine, they lack the regulatory and epistemic barriers to slow the process meaningfully.

The deeper lesson is not about technology, but about incentives. Professions built on controlling information and guiding clients through artificial complexity are uniquely vulnerable in an age of machine intelligence. When AI removes opacity, it also removes justification. The future housing transaction will be cheaper, faster, and less emotionally manipulative. It will involve fewer humans, different roles, and far lower tolerance for ritualized inefficiency.

In that future, the realtor does not evolve. The role dissolves. What remains is a thinner, more honest ecosystem, one where advice is separated from sales, and confidence comes from clarity rather than charisma.

Lansdowne 2.0: The half-billion-dollar deal that asks Ottawa to trust again

There are moments in a city’s life when the decisions made at council chambers shape not just its skyline, but its soul. The redevelopment of Lansdowne Park has entered such a moment. The City calls it Lansdowne 2.0. Once again we are asked to believe that this time things will finally work out. I am respectfully saying: no thank you.

I support investing in our city’s infrastructure, in affordable housing, and in vibrant community spaces, but I am deeply opposed to the kind of public-private partnership (PPP) model that Ottawa keeps repeating – especially when the affordable housing promise is quietly reduced, when the public carries the risk, and the private partner walks away with much of the upside.

In the case of Lansdowne 2.0, the City and its private partner, Ottawa Sports and Entertainment Group (OSEG), propose to rebuild the north-side stands and arena, build new housing towers, bring retail/condo podiums, and “revitalize” the site. The projected cost is now $419 million, according to City documents. The City’s Auditor General warns the cost could be as much as $74-75 million more and that revenues may fall short by $10-30 million or more. That alone should give us pause, but the real problem goes beyond the balance sheet.

The public-private problem
The idea of PPPs sounds appealing: share risk, leverage private capital, deliver publicly beneficial projects faster. But the repeated pattern in Ottawa is that the public land, public debt and public oversight become the junior partner in the deal. When good times happen, the private side takes the returns; when costs rise or revenues shrink, the City and the taxpayer carry the burden. We know this from Lansdowne 1.0 and from other large projects in the city. The question is not simply “Is this a partnership?” but “Who bears the downside when things go off plan?”

The Auditor General’s review of Lansdowne 2.0 flagged that the City is “responsible for the cost of construction…..and any cost overruns” even though much of the revenue upside depends on later ‘waterfall’ arrivals. If we’re asked to commit hundreds of millions now in the hope of returns later, we must demand transparency, risk caps, guaranteed affordable housing and binding public-benefit commitments. Anything less is not renewal, it’s risk-shifting.

Affordable housing is not optional
At a time when Ottawa faces an acute housing affordability crisis, we are told that “housing towers” are part of the funding model for Lansdowne. But the developer’s track-record of promising affordable units, and then claiming they can’t deliver is worn and familiar. In the updated Lansdowne plan the number of guaranteed affordable units was cut or deferred and shifted toward “air-rights” revenues and condo sales, effectively betting public good on speculative real estate. Affordable housing should not be a line-item to trim when the spreadsheets wobble. It is the social licence that allows private profit on public land. Approving a plan that pares back affordable units yet asks for public exposure is indefensible.

Traffic, transit and neighbourhood liveability
The Lansdowne site sits beside the Rideau Canal, the Glebe and the Bank Street corridor – one of the most traffic-choked corridors in the city. Yet the plan envisions adding 770 new residential units (down from an original 1,200) on top of retail podiums. Meanwhile, the city’s own “Bank Street Active Transportation and Transit Priority Feasibility Study” (June 2024) underlines that Bank Street is already at capacity for cars and buses, that pedestrian and cycling infrastructure is insufficient and that any added vehicle traffic will further degrade mobility.

Without a clear strategy to manage car access, parking, transit loads, cycling/pedestrian safety and construction impacts, this redevelopment risks worsening gridlock and degrading the very neighbourhood livability the project claims to enhance.

Sports tenants and viability
One of the central rationales for Lansdowne 2.0 is that the existing arena and stands are aging and that new facilities will retain sports franchises and major events. Yet the plan, as approved, reduces capacity for hockey to 5,500 seats and concerts to around 6,500 – considerably smaller than many mid-sized arenas. Meanwhile, neighbouring downtown developments such as the proposed new arena for the Ottawa Senators raise questions: what is Lansdowne’s tenant strategy once the major franchise relocates? If the largest anchor tenant leaves, the revenue model collapses. The City is committing hundreds of millions without a transparent long-term sports strategy. Sports teams argue they cannot stay if capacity or amenities shrink. If they depart, the burden falls back on taxpayers.

Commercial podiums and vacant retail
The redevelopment includes a shift from 108,000 square feet of retail to 49,000 square feet; a cut because local business viability was weak in the first phase. Even today many of the commercial units around Lansdowne 1.0 remain vacant because rents are too high for independent businesses and the location’s infrastructure doesn’t support consistent foot traffic outside game days. The plan’s assumption that retail will compensate for public investment is shaky at best. Until we see real evidence of market demand and rental levels that support small business and serve neighbourhoods, not just downtown condo-dwellers, we are betting public money on commercial models that already failed once.

The opportunity cost
Let’s not forget what’s at stake. Nearly half a billion dollars in public exposure. Imagine what that money could do across the city: hundreds of affordable housing units in multiple wards, refurbished community centres, libraries, rinks, park renewal, neighbourhood transit links. Instead, we’re being asked to invest that money in one downtown site, tied to a private partner’s spreadsheet and future real-estate and event-market assumptions. This is a question of equity: do we serve one marquee site or many? Do we favour single big deals or dozens of small, proven community-led investments?

A better path forward
I believe in renewal. I believe Lansdowne and its broader site matter. But I cannot support the current model unless three things change:
1. Full transparency: release the full pro-forma, risk tables, debt-servicing schedules, and waterfall projections.
2. Binding affordable-housing guarantees: not aspirational “10 per cent of air-rights revenue,” but concrete units or legally-binding contributions to affordable-housing stock.
3. An urban-livability strategy: traffic and transit modelling for Bank Street and the Glebe; tenant guarantees for sports franchises; a retail strategy that supports small local business; and a cap on public exposure in cost overruns.

If a deal only works when the public is last in line for returns, when affordable housing is trimmed, when traffic worsens and local business fails, then we shouldn’t do it. That is not civic renewal. It is a subsidy for speculative dysfunction.

Public land, public money, public trust. If those three are not aligned, the right move is not to sign another 40-year partnership and hope for the best. It is to pause, open the books, redesign the deal and ensure the structure serves the city first, not the private partner. Ottawa can build better than this. It just needs to decide whose interests it wants to serve.

Sources:
• CityNews Ottawa: OSEG revamp cost jumps to $419 M.
• City of Ottawa / Engage Ottawa: Lansdowne 2.0 project/funding details.
• Auditor General of Ottawa: cost under-estimation, financial risk.
• Glebe Report: traffic/transportation study on Bank Street.

Lansdowne Park: A Case Study in Public-Private Partnership Failure

In the heart of Ottawa lies Lansdowne Park, a public asset that has undergone over a decade of controversial redevelopment under the banner of public-private partnerships (P3). Initially hailed as a visionary collaboration between the City of Ottawa and the Ottawa Sports and Entertainment Group (OSEG), Lansdowne has instead become a cautionary tale; an emblem of how private interests can hijack public value, with taxpayers left holding the bill. Despite grand promises of economic revitalization, self-sustaining revenues, and community benefit, the Lansdowne project has consistently failed to deliver on its core goals.

The Origins: Lansdowne 1.0 and the Rise of the P3 Model
The current saga began in 2007, when structural concerns forced the closure of Frank Clair Stadium. In response, the City sought partners to reimagine Lansdowne as a revitalized hub for sports, entertainment, and urban life. The resulting Lansdowne Partnership Plan (LPP), approved in 2010, was a no-bid, sole-source agreement with OSEG. It created a 30-year limited partnership through which OSEG would refurbish the stadium, build retail and residential developments, and share profits with the City through a revenue “waterfall” model.

The City’s share of the original $362 million redevelopment was around $210 million, used for stadium upgrades, a new urban park, parking facilities, and relocating the historic Horticulture Building. OSEG contributed roughly $152 million, not as direct capital, but largely through operational losses rolled back into the project in exchange for an 8% return on equity. The land remained public, but OSEG was granted long-term leases for commercial components, at just $1 per year.

A Financial Model Built on Sand
The P3 structure was sold to the public with the assurance that Lansdowne would eventually pay for itself. Early forecasts predicted a $22.6 million net return to the City. In reality, those profits never materialized. Retail revenues rose steadily, but so did costs. By 2016, OSEG was reporting $14.4 million in losses. As of 2023, the partnership had not returned a cent to municipal coffers. The revenue waterfall prioritized OSEG’s return on equity before any surplus could flow to the City, meaning taxpayers bore the financial risk, while private partners had guaranteed returns.

Worse, the project locked the City into a complex financial structure that made renegotiation difficult. The Auditor General of Ottawa has since criticized the model, citing opaque accounting and a lack of oversight over cost estimates and projections.

Lansdowne 2.0: Doubling Down on a Broken System
Rather than reassess the underlying flaws of Lansdowne 1.0, the City has pressed forward with an even more ambitious sequel: Lansdowne 2.0. Approved by Council in 2023, this next phase proposes to demolish and rebuild the north-side stadium stands, construct a 5,500-seat event centre, and erect two residential towers atop a retail podium. The estimated cost is $419 million, with over $300 million of that funded by the City through new debt.

Despite lessons from the past, the same P3 framework persists. The City continues to rely on OSEG’s management and forecasts, despite repeated underperformance. Recent findings from the Auditor General suggest that construction costs may be underestimated by as much as $74.3 million, bringing the actual cost closer to half a billion dollars.

Community Concerns Ignored
One of the most damning aspects of the Lansdowne saga has been its consistent disregard for community needs. Neither Lansdowne 1.0 nor 2.0 includes affordable housing. This, in the midst of a housing crisis, is a glaring omission. Public green space will be reduced by more than 50,000 square feet in Lansdowne 2.0. Traffic and parking concerns persist, especially given the site’s poor access to Ottawa’s light rail system.

Environmental groups have flagged the project for increasing the urban heat island effect and ignoring climate resilience standards. Ecology Ottawa and other watchdogs note that the loss of mature trees, additional hard surfaces, and energy-intensive stadium lighting run counter to the City’s own climate goals.

Public feedback has been overwhelmingly negative. A survey by the advocacy group Better Lansdowne found that 77% of respondents opposed the new plan. Critics have called for a full reassessment, independent cost-benefit analysis, and alternative development models that prioritize public use and affordability.

The Broader P3 Problem
The Lansdowne project exemplifies the risks inherent in the P3 model. When private partners are guaranteed returns and public entities assume the risk, the result is rarely equitable or efficient. While the private sector pursues profit, as it must, government has a duty to prioritize public interest. In this case, the lines blurred, and profit came first.

Public-private partnerships are often promoted as a way to leverage private investment for public good. Yet in practice, they can enable private actors to extract value from public land and public funds, with minimal accountability. Lansdowne is a textbook case of this imbalance.

Time to Reclaim Public Space
As Ottawa moves forward, the Lansdowne experience should serve as a clear lesson: public infrastructure must be publicly driven. The City needs to step back, reassess its relationship with OSEG, and consider alternative models that place public interest at the centre. This could include establishing a municipal development corporation, returning retail management to the City, and mandating affordable housing in all new residential builds.

If Lansdowne Park is truly to be the “people’s place” as once envisioned, it must serve the city, not subsidize private profit. The future of Ottawa’s public assets depends on getting this right.

Sources
• Ottawa City Council Reports, 2023–2025 – ottawa.ca
• Ottawa Auditor General Report, June 2025 – link2build.ca
• Better Lansdowne Community Survey – betterlansdowne.ca
• Ecology Ottawa – ecologyottawa.ca
• Ottawa Business Journal Archives – obj.ca
• Lansdowne Park Redevelopment History – en.wikipedia.org

Sustainable, Affordable, Inclusive: Canadian Cities Reshaping Rental Housing

For much of the 20th century, Canadian cities played a direct role in developing and managing affordable housing, often in partnership with provincial and federal governments. Public housing projects, such as Regent Park in Toronto and Benny Farm in Montreal, were built to provide low-income families with stable rental options. However, starting in the 1980s and accelerating through the 1990s, municipalities largely withdrew from housing development as senior governments cut funding and shifted responsibility to the private sector. The federal government ended its national social housing program in 1993, leaving provinces and cities with fewer resources to maintain or expand affordable housing stock. As a result, municipal involvement in housing became limited to zoning regulations, subsidies, and partnerships with private developers, contributing to the affordability crisis seen today.

Canadian cities are beginning to take a more hands-on approach to tackling the housing crisis again, by developing their own low-cost community rental properties on municipally-owned land. With rising rents, stagnant wages, and increased housing demand, affordability has become a pressing concern across the country. Many municipalities, recognizing the limits of relying solely on the private sector, are leveraging public land to create permanently affordable rental options for lower-income residents.

One of the key advantages of this approach is the ability to bypass speculative real estate markets that often drive up costs, and limit long-term affordability. By building on land they already own, cities can keep costs down and ensure that these units remain accessible to those in need, rather than being converted into high-priced rentals or condominiums. Toronto’s Housing Now initiative is a prime example, using city-owned lands to develop mixed-income communities where a significant portion of the units are dedicated to affordable rental housing. These projects are structured to remain affordable over the long term, either through direct municipal ownership or partnerships with non-profit housing providers.

Collaboration with non-profit organizations, housing cooperatives, and community land trusts has become an essential part of this strategy. Many cities recognize that while they can provide the land and initial investment, long-term management and tenant support are often best handled by organizations with experience in affordable housing. Vancouver has been a leader in this area, working with its Community Land Trust to develop and manage affordable units across the city. These partnerships not only ensure that affordability is maintained in perpetuity but also allow for a more community-focused approach to housing, where tenant needs and long-term sustainability are prioritized over profit.

Another emerging trend in municipal-led housing development is the use of modular and prefabricated construction. These methods allow for faster, more cost-effective builds, reducing both construction time and expenses. Ottawa and Edmonton, for example, have invested in modular housing projects to provide rapid solutions for those in immediate need, including people experiencing homelessness. These developments often integrate support services such as mental health care, employment programs, and childcare, recognizing that affordability is about more than just keeping rent low—it’s about providing stability and access to essential resources.

Policy changes at the municipal level are also playing a crucial role in supporting these initiatives. Some cities have adjusted zoning laws to allow for higher-density affordable housing developments or have introduced inclusionary zoning policies that require developers to include affordable units in new projects. Montreal’s 20-20-20 bylaw is an ambitious attempt to balance private development with affordability, mandating that large residential projects include at least 20% social housing, 20% affordable housing, and 20% family-oriented units. While policies like these don’t create city-built rental properties directly, they reinforce the broader municipal commitment to ensuring housing remains within reach for lower-income residents.

Despite the progress being made, challenges remain. Municipal governments often face funding constraints, relying on provincial and federal support to bring these projects to life. Bureaucratic hurdles and community opposition—often fueled by NIMBY (Not In My Backyard) sentiments—can slow down approvals and limit where these developments can be built. However, growing public awareness of the affordability crisis has led to increased political pressure to push projects forward. Programs like the federal Housing Accelerator Fundand the Rapid Housing Initiative are providing much-needed financial backing, allowing cities to expand their efforts and bring more units online.

The future of municipal-led affordable rental housing looks promising. While cities alone can’t solve Canada’s housing crisis, their willingness to take a more active role in development is a step toward ensuring that affordable housing is treated as essential infrastructure rather than a market-driven commodity. If these efforts continue to grow, they could serve as a model for other municipalities seeking sustainable, long-term solutions to the housing affordability challenge.