My daughter knows all the “bad words.”

She told me she does.

Strangely, I have never heard her use one.  Not once.

My son, on the other hand, loves to get a reaction.  He’s not using swear words, but as most 3-years-old boys do, he loves naming body parts just to witness the shock value on full display.  My Dad says, “Dave, one day he’s gonna do that in public, and people are gonna look at you as the reason.”

To be fair, his sister is the reason.  Those of you with children know what it’s like when the older one, who is seemingly perfect, acts out through her younger brother.  She doesn’t want to get in trouble for anything, so she has him do her bidding.

She taught him those words, no doubt about it.

And while she might use them from time to time, I’ve never heard her actually use a “swear word.”

She’s heard me though.  I’m embarrassed to admit how many times.

When I say the “f-word,” as she labels it, she tells me, “Daddy, that’s a bad word.  You shouldn’t say that.”

She’s right.

And she’s six.

I know better, but I do it anyways.  Those with children will also know it’s impossible not to.  Once your kids are born, there’s just this genetic psychological metamorphosis that forces you to use those words in the presence of your children at least nine times per day, and any attempt to resist the urge is useless.

Every night, I lay on my daughter’s bed before she falls asleep and we chat.  This is her time for deep reflection.

“Daddy, is Mommy’s gramma gonna die?” She asked me the other night.  She’s six, in case you missed that.  How in the world do thoughts like this enter her mind?

“Mommy’s gramma is like a hundred.  That’s old,” she told me, before she added, “And she’s nice to me, so I don’t want her to die.”

Again, I ask: where do they come up with this?

“Daddy, how come cars have four wheels, but not six, or eight, or ten,” she asked me last week.  I was proud that she was working forward in pairs of even numbers.

“Daddy, where did the English language come from?  Who made it, and what did people have before it?”  I told her that’s a question for her Grampa, and that she should write all of these down.

And then the other night, Maya asked me, “Daddy, what makes the f-word and the s-word ‘bad’ words?  How come they’re bad, and who said they’re bad?”  It was a very good question.

I had to think about for a while, and eventually, I said, “Certain words are just bad because of their context, meaning, connotation, or intent.”

She said, “Oh, okay,” but I suspect she had no clue what I meant.

She then added, “So a bad word is a bad word…………because it’s bad?”

And I agreed.  Partially because I wanted her to go to sleep, and partially because I didn’t have a better explanation.

What does make a word bad?

Some are dirty, but that often is debateable, and different cultures have different ideas on what’s dirty and what’s not.

Some are based on taboo subjects, but again, see above.

As I explained to my daughter, it often depends on the context.

Some words are blasphemous.

Some words are meant to insult, so despite the actual origin or meaning of the word, it’s the intent to insult that makes them bad.

And then there’s words that make others overly-emotional as a result.

So with all this said, what do you make of the word: RENOVICTION?

When you read today’s blog title and you saw the word “renoviction,” what did you feel?

What did you think?  What was your immediate response?  What emotion did you feel?

The fact that I asked, “Is Renoviction A Bad Word?” likely made more people feel a negative response, but certainly some felt disgust, frustration, or anger based on the fact that renoviction could be seen as a bad word, rather than feeling disgust, frustration, or anger based on the concept of a renoviction, right?

Not everybody thinks “renoviction” is a bad word, right?

And not everybody thinks that a renoviction is a bad thing, right?

Wiktionary defines a renoviction as:

The eviction of all of a building’s tenants on the grounds that a large-scale renovation is planned.

Well, we knew that.

So let’s look at the actual Ontario Residential Tenancies Act.

Under “Notice By Landlord At End Of Period Or Term,” we find Section 50 and the following:

Notice, demolition, conversion or repairs

50 (1) A landlord may give notice of termination of a tenancy if the landlord requires possession of the rental unit in order to,

(a) demolish it;

(b) convert it to use for a purpose other than residential premises; or

(c) do repairs or renovations to it that are so extensive that they require a building permit and vacant possession of the rental unit.  2006, c. 17, s. 50 (1).

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So this is law.

This is a provincial Act from 2006 that allows a landlord the right to evict tenants to demolish a building, or convert the building to another purpose, or to undergo an extensive renovation.

I think that, despite our differences, we can all agree that these laws make sense at face value, right?

If a small 6-unit building can be demolished, per section (a), to construct a 60-unit building, that makes sense, right?

And if a residential building is going to be converted to an office, per section (b), then this is the owner’s right, agreed?

But where does section (c) fit into all of this?

If somebody wants to evict a sitting tenant to “renovate,” is this where we get the word renoviction from?

And as a result, are all renovictions therefore bad?

It certainly seems that way if public opinion is the judge and jury.

I searched “renoviction” in Google at the onset of this blog just to see what articles would pop up, and there’s nothing neutral, let alone positive.

Simply put, “renoviction” is a bad word, and I don’t know if that’s fair.

There is a property available off-market right now that is a downright steal.  It was last listed for $1,300,000, and probably “worth” about $1,400,000 in February at the peak.  The agent for the owner, who we’ve been in talks with, says that the owner is still motivated to sell, but isn’t going to re-list until next year.

What’s he looking for?

A mere $1,000,000.

The property is a 2 1/2 storey semi-detached house two units.  One unit is vacant and the other unit is tenanted for $1,200 per month.

The unit currently tenanted for $1,200 per month is probably “worth” $1,600 in this market, but that’s missing the larger point.

If this house was renovated, each of those units could command $3,000 each.

We have shown this property to two different sets of investors and both gave us the same reason why they’re not interested:

“I don’t like the word renoviction.”

Both buyers know that they’re well within their rights to buy the house, evict the tenant, put $250,000 into the home, and then lease each unit out for $3,000, but neither likes the stigma attached to doing so.

“I don’t want to be on the front cover of the Toronto Star as a big, evil, renovictor,” one client told us.  I wonder how long until “renovictor” is actually a word…

So at this juncture, I need to ask the readers: is it unfair to evict this particular tenant for the purposes of renovating the house?

I suspect that 80% of the TRB readers will say, “Yes, fair game,” but if I asked this question to a thousand Torontonians, I’d be looking at a 50/50 split at best.

Don’t forget, there’s a growing opinion in society that housing shouldn’t be used as a commodity.  Many people believe that the occupant of the property should have more rights than the person that actually owns it; that the person’s home trumps that for whom the property is merely a house.

As with everything we discuss on TRB, there are always bad actors and good ones.

But many choose not to differentiate at all.

Recall the discussions earlier this year about a city bureaucrat who put forth the idea of tying rents to the unit, and not the tenant.

Here’s an article from the summer:

“Canada’s Biggest City Challenged To Confront Its ‘Renoviction’ Problem”
Financial Post
July 25, 2022

From the article:

The leaders of Canada’s biggest city are being challenged to confront a surge in “renovictions,” a phenomenon that has already caused tensions between landlords, tenants, and politicians in other big municipalities, including Vancouver and Montreal.

Last week, Abigail Bond, the executive director of Toronto’s housing secretariat, published a report that called on the provincial government to tie rent control regulations to units rather than the tenants who live in them, which she argued would make it harder for landlords to jack up rents under the guise of renovations.

“The primary objectives of these activities are to preserve the city’s affordable and mid-range rental housing supply and help support tenants who are at risk of being evicted,” Bond wrote.

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What word do you think I have a problem with here?

It’s “guise.”

The author says, “…under the guise of renovations.”

Are we at the point where we merely assume that any attempt to evict for the purpose of the renovation is a guise?  A rouse?  A complete and outright fraud?

That’s what the above article seems to argue, and there’s not much to support the idea that renovations can happen in good faith.

There are lots of horror stories about renovictions out there.

HERE is a bulletin from Parkdale Community Legal Services about some “bad actors” who wanted to evict the residents of an entire building for the purposes of renovation.  I can’t opine on either the intent of the owners or the fairness of the eviction, since I don’t know the facts, but this bulletin is written as though these are misdeeds.

HERE is a story from the CBC about a woman who was evicted from her apartment because the lobby, one floor below, was under construction.

But before we paint every renoviction with the same brush, can we go back the example I provided above with the 2 1/2 storey duplex?

Is it so terrible that an individual wants to purchase this property for $1,000,000, undergo a $250,000 renovation, and create two new 2-bedroom units with a 2022-era fit-and-finish?

Because if it is, then I no longer understand our society.

First of all, a home is an asset.  At least it is, for now.  That all may change one day, not tomorrow, and not the day after, but I wouldn’t rule out the day when the resentment toward those who own homes is so vile that the entire system changes.

So what’s wrong with an individual looking to maintain or even improve the state of their asset?

I understand that it comes at the cost of evicting a sitting tenant, but the law is clear.

Moreover, a $250,000 renovation would be great for the economy.

That renovation would employ a plumber, an electrician, a drywaller, a painter, some flooring guys, and perhaps a window company, not to mention a general contractor.  Money would flow to the likes of Home Depot et al, which employs others.  There’s no way to look at a $250,000 flow into the economy as a bad thing.

The house would increase in value, thereby increasing property taxes, which is good for the city.

We could rattle on and on with this list, but I think the point is clear.  The only loss here is that sitting tenant.

But can the homeowner be expected to put the tenant first?

The law is clear: the homeowner must offer the unit back to the original tenant once the renovation is done, but we know how that goes.  The tenant has long since moved on, and likely can’t afford the new rent.

The existing rent is $1,200 per month, which is well below the market rent of $1,600.  But this renovation would increase the market rent to $3,000, and there are two units here.

I ask again: is this a bad thing?

In the Financial Post article above, Abigail Bond says:

“The primary objectives of these activities are to preserve the city’s affordable and mid-range rental housing supply…”

So are we now at the point where we’re looking to keep housing affordable by discouraging renovations?

Discouraging renovictions, right.

But that’s discouraging renovations, and the sentiments expressed in that article seem to suggest that the lower the rent for a given property, the better.

So where does that lead us?

Toward the promotion of purposeful dilapidated dwellings?

The further I go down this rabbit hole, the odder it seems.

Somebody is about to suggest, “David, the homeowner can renovate.  They just have to wait until the tenant leaves.”

I understand that, but I don’t love the idea that a tenant can stay for fifty years and force the homeowner to sit idly by while the property deteriorates, both physically, and in terms of value.

And I keep going back to the law, which is clear.  Landlords are permitted to evict for the purpose of an “extensive” renovation.

There will always be bad actors here, as we’ve seen with virtually every topic discussed on TRB.  The two links I provided above are just two of many stories out there.

But I will never agree with the idea that any renoviction is unfair.

Form N11, Agreement to end Tenancy, is two pages.

Form N12, Notice to end Tenancy, is two pages.

But form N13, Notice to End your Tenancy Because the Landlord Wants to Demolish the Rental Unit, Repair it or Convert it to Another Use, is six pages long.

There’s a reason for that.  Just as there’s a reason why we’re discussing renovictions today.

But if “renoviction” wasn’t a word and we simply used “N13’d” as a verb, I don’t believe the response would be nearly as negative.

Renoviction isn’t a bad word.

It’s just misunderstood…