The False Promise of Transit-Oriented Development in Vancouver

Transit-oriented development has a seductive logic. Build high-density housing around transit stations, and you solve everything at once. Less sprawl, fewer cars, more sustainable cities, and homes that everyday people can actually afford. The planning renderings always look the same: shiny towers sprouting like bamboo around a SkyTrain station, happy families strolling with lattes, bicycles parked neatly on racks, and slogans about “livable, connected communities.”

In theory, TOD is the holy grail of urban planning. In Vancouver, it’s the real estate industry’s biggest joke.

Instead of creating affordable, sustainable neighborhoods, TOD in Metro Vancouver has become a machine for speculation, land grabs, and glass towers priced for investors rather than commuters. Transit isn’t a public good here — it’s a marketing tool. “Steps from SkyTrain!” is less about livability and more about extracting another $100,000 from a condo presale.

The Hype Machine

Politicians adore TOD because it sounds progressive. Transit agencies like TransLink adore it because towers bring “fare-paying riders.” Developers adore it because nothing inflates land value faster than the promise of a new station.

The talking points are always the same:

• “We’re building complete communities.”

• “Transit-oriented density reduces car dependency.”

• “Everyday people will be able to live, work, and play without needing to drive.”

But everyday people rarely end up living in these towers. The buyers are investors, speculators, and international capital parking money in concrete. The people who actually ride the train every day are priced out before the first shovel hits the ground.

SkyTrain as a Speculation Engine

Nowhere is the absurdity clearer than along the SkyTrain lines. The Expo Line, once built to move working-class commuters, is now a corridor of luxury condos. The Canada Line transformed swaths of Richmond into a presale circus. The Evergreen Line didn’t just connect Coquitlam — it connected Coquitlam to a pipeline of speculative demand.

A new SkyTrain extension isn’t just infrastructure; it’s a press release for developers. Land around stations is optioned, flipped, and resold years before the trains even run. “Transit-oriented” becomes code for “price inflation baked in.” By the time the station opens, the people who actually need affordable housing near transit have been permanently displaced.

Case Study: Brentwood Town Centre

Brentwood in Burnaby is often held up as the shining example of TOD. Towers so tall they block the sun, anchored by a shopping mall that’s been rebranded as a “lifestyle centre.” Developers promised vibrancy, connectivity, and “a new downtown for Burnaby.”

What they delivered: presale frenzy. Units were snapped up by investors, many of them offshore. Prices soared beyond reach of the average SkyTrain commuter. Walk around Brentwood today and you’ll see more marketing slogans than children, more cranes than playgrounds. Yes, it’s dense, yes, it’s transit-adjacent, but affordable? Family-friendly? Actual community? Not so much.

The Displacement Game

TOD often works like this:

1. Announce a new transit station.

2. Land values around it skyrocket overnight.

3. Older rental buildings are bought, rezoned, and demolished.

4. Long-term renters — often families and seniors — are evicted in waves.

5. Shiny new towers rise, filled with investors, empty units, and Airbnbs.

It’s marketed as progress. In reality, it’s displacement with better PR. The people most dependent on transit are the very ones pushed farthest away from it. The end result: they commute longer, drive more, and live further from the lines that were supposedly built for them.

The “Steps from SkyTrain” Premium

Look at any listing in Vancouver and you’ll see it: “Just steps from SkyTrain!” Like proximity to a station is the urban equivalent of beachfront property. The irony? Many of the people paying that premium don’t use transit at all. It’s an investment slogan, not a lifestyle.

Developers know the math. Studies show condos near transit command price premiums of 10–20%. That’s why the phrase is slapped on every presale ad like hot sauce. Never mind that renters — the ones who actually need transit — can’t afford to live there. Never mind that half the owners park their Teslas downstairs and never set foot on a SkyTrain.

TOD in Vancouver has become the ultimate real estate upsell: buy here, not because you’ll ride transit, but because someone else someday will pay even more for the privilege of being “steps from it.”

Amenities, But Not for You

Transit-oriented towers love to advertise “community amenities.” Rooftop gardens, fitness centres, daycares, even promises of new schools. The renderings look inclusive, but the fine print tells the truth.

Those daycare spots? Oversubscribed before the first brick is laid. That school? Delayed a decade past the towers’ completion. That rooftop garden? Locked behind key fobs, off-limits to the public, accessible only to owners paying $1,000/month strata fees.

Transit brings density, but the density doesn’t translate into real community amenities. It translates into glossy sales pitches that quietly fail to materialize for anyone but investors.

TOD as Greenwashing

Every developer will tell you their project is “green” because it’s near transit. But density without affordability is not sustainability — it’s speculation. Packing towers around a SkyTrain line but filling them with empty investor units doesn’t reduce car dependency. It just raises land values.

Meanwhile, displaced renters drive further. Families move to Langley or Maple Ridge. Workers take on 90-minute commutes because they can’t afford to live near their jobs. The official emissions models count the towers as climate wins, while the lived reality is more traffic, more sprawl, and more hypocrisy.

The Generational Divide

Once again, it comes down to who these projects serve. Retirees with equity buy into towers as “downsizers” but often keep their cars. Investors buy units as commodities. Young professionals stretch to buy studios but rarely stick around long enough to raise families there.

The people most excluded are working families — the very group TOD was supposed to help. With two kids and a stroller, a one-bedroom unit “steps from SkyTrain” isn’t livable. With daycare closed and schools over capacity, it’s not sustainable. But the towers keep rising, because families aren’t the target audience. Capital is.

Global Lessons We Never Learn

This isn’t just Vancouver’s problem. Around the world, TOD has been hijacked by speculation. In Hong Kong, transit stations are luxury real estate anchors, not community hubs. In London, condos sprout around new Tube stations but remain largely empty, priced as investment vehicles. In Toronto, towers around subway stops are billed as “affordable” while commanding record-breaking rents.

Planners know this. Academics warn about it. But Vancouver repeats the pattern anyway, because the political economy of TOD is too lucrative to resist. Transit justifies density. Density justifies rezoning. Rezoning inflates land values. And everyone along the chain — developers, municipalities, speculators — takes a cut.

Why Politicians Keep Selling It

Transit-oriented development is the perfect political story. It promises affordability, sustainability, and growth without the pain of real reform. No need to overhaul zoning citywide. No need to cap speculation. Just draw circles around SkyTrain stations and declare victory.

But circles on a map don’t create affordability. They create speculation zones. Politicians know it, but they keep selling the dream because TOD is easy PR: a ribbon-cutting at a station, a crane in the sky, a rendering of happy families. By the time the units are sold to investors, the politician has moved on.

The Future of TOD in Vancouver

With SkyTrain extensions to UBC and Langley underway, TOD hype is about to hit new highs. Developers are already licking their lips over the Broadway Corridor. Land assemblies are happening along Fraser Highway years before trains will run.

The cycle is predictable: hype, displacement, towers, presale frenzy, unaffordable units, empty promises. And yet, every time, it’s marketed as if this time will be different.

The cruel irony is that TOD could work. If affordability was mandated, if rental protections were enforced, if schools and daycares were built alongside towers, if density was truly about people and not just capital. But in Vancouver, those ifs are afterthoughts. Transit is the excuse, not the solution.

Transit-oriented development in Vancouver is not about transit, or community, or affordability. It’s about monetizing proximity. It’s about taking a public good — rapid transit — and using it to juice private profit. It’s about promising livable, connected neighborhoods and delivering glass towers priced for investors.

The false promise of TOD is that it pretends to be about people who ride the train. In reality, it’s about people who never will. It’s about turning a transit line into a real estate line, another chapter in Vancouver’s long-running story of housing as a commodity.

The SkyTrain may carry thousands of riders a day, but the real cargo it carries is speculation.

If you want to see how quickly “transit-oriented development” morphs into “transit-oriented displacement,” look no further than the Broadway Corridor.

The Broadway Boondoggle

The Broadway Subway Project was sold as a lifeline: fast, efficient transit to connect Vancouver’s biggest east-west artery. And the rhetoric was familiar — densify around the new stations, build mixed-use towers, create vibrant communities.

But by the time the first tunnel-boring machines rolled out, land speculators had already beaten the trains to the finish line. Properties along Broadway were snapped up by developers, rezoning applications flooded in, and rents spiked years before anyone could board a single SkyTrain car.

For renters in older, affordable walk-ups, the promise of transit wasn’t faster commutes — it was eviction notices. “Future development” signs became as common as bus stops. Whole blocks of rental housing vanished, replaced by glossy marketing banners for towers that only a fraction of displaced renters could ever afford to return to.

Broadway was never just a subway. It was a land-value reset button.

Surrey and the Fantasy of the Expo Line Extension

Over in Surrey, TOD hype has turned into a game of political ping-pong. First it was the LRT. Then it was the SkyTrain extension to Langley. Every mayoral election seemed to hinge on the shape and color of lines on a map.

And while the politics dragged, land values along Fraser Highway rose anyway. Developers didn’t wait for the concrete. They assembled land, prepped rezoning packages, and started marketing “future transit hub” projects. By the time trains eventually arrive, the people who actually rely on transit — low-income families, immigrants, service workers — will have been priced out to Cloverdale or Abbotsford.

The promise of transit-oriented development for Surrey wasn’t about shortening commutes. It was about stretching profits.

Richmond and the Canada Line Mirage

The Canada Line was another case study in the false promise. When it opened for the 2010 Olympics, it was pitched as a world-class connection between Vancouver, Richmond, and YVR. Transit-oriented communities would bloom along the route, planners said.

And bloom they did — but only for investors. Towers shot up around Richmond-Brighouse station, marketed heavily to offshore buyers. For a while, the condo ads in Hong Kong newspapers practically wrote themselves: “Own a home just steps from Vancouver’s new train.”

Did those units house families who ride the Canada Line daily? Hardly. Many sat empty. Others became short-term rentals. Rents in the area surged, and long-time residents were pushed out. The trains kept running, but the riders weren’t the beneficiaries of TOD — the investors were.

Fake Developer Brochure: TOD Edition

If TOD marketing was honest, the brochure would read something like this:

• “Steps from SkyTrain! (because your rent will double by the time it opens)”

• “Vibrant, connected community! (except we demolished all the existing affordable rentals to build this)”

• “Sustainable urban living! (ignore the six floors of underground parking we squeezed in for all the Teslas)”

• “Family-friendly design! (unless you have more than one child, in which case good luck in a 600 sq ft box)”

The brochure never says the quiet part out loud: that TOD is less about living near transit and more about monetizing transit.

Why TOD Always Misses the Mark

Transit-oriented development could, in theory, be exactly what Vancouver needs: density, affordability, walkability, sustainability. But the way it plays out here misses every target.

• Affordability? Gone. Units near transit command premiums. Developers know it, banks know it, speculators know it. The very act of drawing a transit line inflates land costs before a shovel hits the ground.

• Sustainability? Questionable. Towers may be dense, but if the displaced renters end up driving from Chilliwack, the carbon math falls apart.

• Community? Weak. The “vibrant communities” are often investor ghost towns, where the lights stay off at night.

• Equity? Nonexistent. The groups most dependent on transit — low-income families, service workers, students — are the first displaced.

TOD in Vancouver isn’t a solution. It’s a feedback loop: transit fuels speculation, speculation fuels towers, towers fuel displacement, displacement fuels more driving. And all the while, politicians point to the cranes and declare success.

The Global Comparison Game

You don’t have to look far to see how universal this problem is.

In Hong Kong, MTR (the transit operator) is also a property developer. Every new station is immediately wrapped in towers and malls. The result: highly profitable for the transit agency, highly unaffordable for residents. Transit-oriented, yes. Affordable, no.

In London, new Tube stations spark bidding wars among developers. The Elizabeth Line turned whole neighborhoods into speculation zones. Working-class Londoners were priced out long before the first trains ran.

In Toronto, the new Ontario Line is already driving land assemblies. Towers are being planned years ahead of transit. The marketing is copy-paste Vancouver: “steps from future subway,” sold at a premium to buyers who may never set foot on the TTC.

Vancouver isn’t an outlier. It’s just playing out the same TOD script that cities around the world follow: build transit, sell hype, watch affordability evaporate.

Who Benefits from TOD?

Follow the money and the winners are obvious.

• Developers get rezonings, higher land values, and towers they can market at premiums.

• Investors get capital appreciation tied not to housing demand but to transit maps.

• Municipalities get higher tax bases from expensive towers, even if those towers sit half-empty.

• Transit agencies can point to higher ridership projections, even if the new riders aren’t the ones who actually needed the service.

And who loses?

• Renters, families, and commuters. The very groups TOD is supposed to serve.

The Broadway “Complete Communities” Myth

Back to Broadway, where every press release uses the phrase “complete community.” Schools, parks, affordable rentals, cultural spaces — all promised, all illustrated in pastel renderings. But the reality is slower, costlier, and more compromised.

Daycares are undersized. Parks are token rooftop plots. Cultural spaces are vague “future community facilities” that may or may not materialize. And the affordable rentals? Usually capped at “below market” rents that are still unaffordable to most working families.

Meanwhile, the construction cranes rise. The speculative condos sell. The displacement continues. The “community” is a PowerPoint slide, not a lived reality.

The Empty Unit Problem

One of the great ironies of TOD is that many towers near transit aren’t actually lived in. Investor units sit dark, functioning as safety deposit boxes in the sky. Meanwhile, the renters who need transit most are commuting from miles away.

Empty units don’t ride trains. Empty units don’t shop at the local grocery store. Empty units don’t create vibrant communities. But they do generate property tax revenue, and in Vancouver, that seems to be good enough.

Satirical Strata AGM Minutes (TOD Tower Edition)

• Motion: Should we allow renters in our building? Defeated unanimously.

• Motion: Should children be allowed to play in the courtyard near the SkyTrain station? Carried — only between 1–3 p.m. under adult supervision.

• Motion: Should the building invest in more bicycle racks? Defeated, replaced with proposal for additional Tesla charging stations.

• Motion: Should we open the rooftop garden to the public, given it was promised as a community amenity? Defeated. Owners only.

The Climate Irony

Politicians love to wrap TOD in green language. But displacement is carbon-intensive. Every family forced from a rental near transit to a townhouse in Abbotsford now drives 80 km a day. The towers may be efficient, but the ripple effects aren’t.

This is the hidden carbon footprint of TOD: the externalized emissions of everyone priced out. When you count that, TOD in Vancouver may actually be making emissions worse, not better.

Why We Keep Falling for It

The reason TOD keeps selling is because the renderings are irresistible. A child biking next to a SkyTrain station. A pedestrian-friendly plaza. A leafy canopy over a mixed-use tower podium. It all looks so good on paper.

But renderings aren’t reality. Reality is presale tents, “future development” eviction notices, dark towers at night, and strata rules banning kids from playing near the train they can hear outside their window.

What TOD Could Be

It doesn’t have to be this way. Transit-oriented development could work — if it was designed for people, not profit.

• Require a high percentage of true affordable rentals near stations.

• Mandate schools and daycares before towers, not decades later.

• Protect existing renters with ironclad anti-displacement laws.

• Ensure new density doesn’t just mean luxury condos but actual family-sized units.

• Treat transit as a public utility, not a real estate advertisement.

But that requires political will — and a willingness to confront developers who currently run the show. In Vancouver, that’s still a dream.

Transit-oriented development in Vancouver is one of the great urban planning bait-and-switches. Marketed as affordability, delivered as speculation. Pitched as sustainability, executed as displacement. Promised as community, delivered as commodity.

The SkyTrain is supposed to move people. In Vancouver, it moves money.

Until TOD stops being a sales pitch and starts being a housing strategy, it will remain a false promise — a shiny tower next to a train, priced for people who never ride it, marketed as a future that never arrives.

If Brentwood was the crown jewel of TOD speculation and Broadway is the cautionary tale, Marine Gateway is the perfect microcosm of how transit-oriented development sells itself as inclusive but delivers exclusion.

Marine Gateway: Poster Child for the “Transit Lifestyle”

When Marine Gateway opened above the Canada Line in South Vancouver, it was hailed as the city’s first true transit village. Grocery store downstairs, Cineplex attached, Starbucks at the base, SkyTrain above — what more could a commuter want?

The project was plastered with slogans about “living car-free,” “integrated community living,” and “the future of Vancouver.” Politicians lined up for ribbon cuttings. Transit planners gushed about the model. Developers pointed to it as proof that towers above transit hubs were the way forward.

And yet, the one-bedroom condos sold at Marine Gateway went for premiums so high that most local commuters couldn’t afford them. Many ended up as rentals at eye-watering rates, others sat empty, and the much-promised “affordable community” quickly revealed itself as another investor hot spot.

A family living a car-free lifestyle at Marine Gateway was technically possible. In practice, it meant paying $2,600 a month for 600 square feet and fighting for daycare spots that didn’t exist. The community was transit-adjacent, yes — but only for those who could afford to buy into the marketing.

Metrotown: Density Without Affordability

Metrotown is often celebrated as one of Canada’s densest urban centres, anchored by transit. The logic is straightforward: if you want to live car-free, Metrotown is your paradise. But dig deeper, and you see TOD’s fundamental flaw: density isn’t the same as affordability.

Thousands of rental units were demolished in the “Metrotown mass eviction” wave of the mid-2010s, replaced with gleaming towers. The renters — often immigrant families, students, and seniors — were pushed farther out, even as politicians declared victory for density. The SkyTrain still ran, but many of its most dependent riders now boarded much farther from where they used to live.

Metrotown is dense, yes. But density without equity is displacement. And displacement wrapped in TOD marketing is one of Vancouver’s most polished lies.

Lougheed: From Mall to Monopoly

At Lougheed, the transformation from suburban shopping centre to “transit city” was marketed as progress. Developers promised thousands of homes, new public spaces, and a future where people could live, work, and play without cars.

But “Lougheed Town Centre Redevelopment” quickly became less about housing people and more about monetizing the SkyTrain hub. Presales sold out years in advance, investors lined up, and families once renting nearby found themselves priced out of their own neighborhood.

Walk around Lougheed today, and you’ll see towers rising, but you’ll also notice the shadows: affordable rentals gone, local businesses displaced, communities fractured. The SkyTrain trains keep rolling, but for many, the station is now a monument to exclusion.

Fake TOD Disclaimers (If Developers Were Honest)

If developers had to write the truth in their TOD ads, the fine print might read like this:

• “Steps from SkyTrain!” (Disclaimer: You’ll never actually afford to live here unless your parents refinance their house.)

• “Family-friendly units available!” (Disclaimer: That means two bedrooms at 750 square feet, good luck fitting two kids and a stroller.)

• “Sustainable car-free lifestyle!” (Disclaimer: Six floors of underground parking included, because 80% of buyers still own two vehicles.)

• “Integrated community amenities!” (Disclaimer: Daycare spaces sold out before the tower was built. Public park opening in 2037, maybe.)

• “Affordable housing component!” (Disclaimer: Rents are set at only 20% below market, which is still unaffordable for actual SkyTrain riders.)

Why TOD Keeps Getting a Free Pass

Despite all of this, TOD keeps winning the PR game. Why? Because the narrative is irresistible. It gives everyone cover:

• Politicians can say they’re addressing climate change and affordability without confronting land hoarding or speculation.

• Developers can wrap luxury condos in the green flag of “transit sustainability.”

• Municipalities get the tax revenue from expensive towers.

• Transit agencies get to boast about ridership projections even before a train runs.

And the losers — renters, commuters, working families — rarely have a seat at the table.

The Phantom of Community

Transit-oriented development loves to talk about “community,” but the word loses meaning when the people most dependent on transit are priced out of the buildings next to it. A tower filled with empty investor units isn’t a community. A daycare promised in marketing but not delivered isn’t a community. A rooftop garden locked behind strata fobs isn’t a community.

Community isn’t something you can Photoshop into a rendering. It’s the people who actually live there, ride the train daily, shop locally, and raise their families nearby. TOD in Vancouver consistently erases those people while pretending to build for them.

What Real TOD Would Look Like

Imagine if TOD in Vancouver actually lived up to its billing.

Every new station would be surrounded not by towers of investor condos but by affordable rentals, family-sized units, co-op housing, and public amenities. Schools would open alongside stations, not decades later. Rents would be stabilized for existing residents so that displacement wasn’t the default outcome. Transit access would be a right, not a luxury amenity for those who can afford presales.

That vision is possible — other cities have experimented with it. Vienna, for example, combines transit expansion with massive investment in social housing. Parts of Scandinavia do the same. It’s not rocket science. It’s just politics.

But in Vancouver, politics prefers renderings.

Why TOD is Just Vancouver’s Oldest Trick in a New Suit

Strip away the branding, and TOD is just the latest in Vancouver’s long tradition of housing policies that promise affordability while delivering speculation. Foreign buyer bans, empty homes taxes, presale regulations — all tinkering at the margins while the core issue remains: housing is treated as an asset class, not a social necessity.

Transit-oriented development adds a new twist: now even public infrastructure is harnessed to serve speculation. Taxpayer-funded trains become billboards for private developers. And every announcement of a new extension becomes, in practice, a giant neon sign that reads: “Invest here before it’s too late!”

The SkyTrain of Broken Promises

Transit-oriented development in Vancouver is marketed as the city’s future. But so far, it has mostly been a pastiche of broken promises. Instead of affordable communities near transit, we get presale hype. Instead of equity, we get displacement. Instead of climate action, we get more sprawl as renters flee outward.

The false promise of TOD is that it pretends to be about people who ride the train. In reality, it’s about people who don’t. It’s about monetizing proximity, inflating land values, and treating transit stations not as public goods but as sales hooks.

Until Vancouver starts building transit-oriented housing for riders rather than speculators, TOD will remain what it is now: a greenwashed land rush. The trains will keep moving, the towers will keep rising, and the people TOD was supposed to serve will keep being pushed further down the line.

Because in this city, the SkyTrain isn’t just a transit system. It’s a speculation engine — one that keeps running on time.