Content uploaded by Richard Harris
Author content
All content in this area was uploaded by Richard Harris on Dec 04, 2017
Content may be subject to copyright.
Secondary suites: A survey of evidence and
municipal policy
Richard Harris
School of Geography and Earth Sciences, McMaster University
Kathleen Kinsella
School of Geography and Earth Sciences, McMaster University
Key Messages
Secondary suites play a vital, but poorly understood, role in the urban rental market.
Many suites are illegal in one way or another and evade oversight.
Recently, Canadian municipalities have begun to treat secondary suites much more favourably.
Secondary suites (accessory apartments) account for about a quarter of all rental units in Canadian urban
areas but their character and significance is poorly understood. Self-contained, they have been created
through the subdivision of single-family dwellings. They are a flexible housing form, responding readily to
shifts in local market conditions. They have become more common because few purpose-built apartments
have been erected since the 1970s. Many fail to conform to zoning, building, health, or occupancy
regulations, and hence elude accurate enumeration. They provide an income supplement to mortgaged
homeowners, affordable accommodation to lower-income persons and families, and allow seniors to age in
place. Official attitudes towards suites, once hostile, have become more encouraging, despite resistance from
some property owners concerned about parking and property values. We need to know more about this vital
element in Canada’s urban scene.
Keywords: secondary suites, rental market, urban areas, Canada
Logements accessoires : une enqu^
ete de preuve et de politique municipale
Les logements accessoires repr
esentent environ le quart de tous les logements locatifs dans les secteurs
urbains canadiens, mais leur caract
ere et leur importance ne sont que peu connus. Autonomes, ils ont
et
e
cr
e
es par la subdivision de logements unifamiliaux. Ils sont une forme de logement flexible qui r
epond
rapidement aux changements de conditions du march
e local. Ils sont devenus plus communs parce que peu
d’appartements
a cet effet ont
et
e construits depuis les ann
ees 1970. Un grand nombre d’entre eux ne se
conforment pas aux r
eglements de zonage, de construction, de sant
eoud’occupation et
echappent ainsi au
d
enombrement exact. Ils fournissent un suppl
ement de revenu aux propri
etaires hypoth
ecaires, ils offrent un
logement abordable aux personnes et aux familles
a plus faibles revenus et ils permettent aux personnes
^
ag
ees de vieillir chez eux. L’attitude officielle
al’
egard des logements accessoires, autrefois hostile, est
devenue plus encourageante malgr
elar
esistance de la part de certains propri
etaires qui s’inqui
etent de la
valeur de la propri
et
e et du stationnement. Nous devons en apprendre davantage au sujet de cet
el
ement
vital de la sc
ene urbaine du Canada.
Mots cl
es : logements accessoires, march
e locatif, secteurs urbains, Canada
Correspondence to / Adresse de correspondance: Richard Harris, School of Geography and Earth Sciences, McMaster University, Hamilton,
ON L8S 4K1. Email/Courriel: harrisr@mcmaster.ca
The Canadian Geographer / Le G
eographe canadien 2017, xx(xx): 1–17
DOI: 10.1111/cag.12424
© 2017 Canadian Association of Geographers / L'Association canadienne des g
eographes
We stereotype and mentally segregate types of
dwellings, as well as people. For most Canadians,
a home—especially if owner-occupied—is a de-
tached single-family dwelling. It is different from,
and superior to, an apartment, which is understood
to be one of many similar units in a low- or high-rise
building. Occasionally, we blur these categories a
little. We have learned that homeownership can
mean a condominium, though many feel that these
are not truly home-like (cf. Kern 2010). But it is
above all rented accommodation that we instinc-
tively misrepresent, even though it shelters 30% of
all households. In Canadian cities, half of all rented
dwellings do not fit the stereotype. These include
rented condos, but most are apartments in houses:
self-contained units created through the physical
conversion and subdivision of what were originally
single-family dwellings. These are our subject.
Such “secondary”or “accessory”suites, as they
are often called in Canada, are unobtrusive. One
attempt to count them used the term “invisible”
(City of Vancouver 2009, 6). They can occupy all or
part of any floor in a house, often the basement. To
create them, owners may make substantial reno-
vations: adding a wall, bathroom, kitchen, or
separate entrance. None of this, including a side
or rear entrance, need be visible to passers-by,
including the neighbour down the street or the
building inspector. Often, that is no accident. Many
suites exist where they are prohibited by zoning
regulations, or have been built on the sly by owners
with limited funds who fancy their DIY skills: in
Toronto in the 1980s, two thirds of those created
by recent buyers were self-built (Murdie and
Northrup 1990, 41). They might fail to meet local
building codes, if tested. And so, such suites are
often designed to be elusive: they are the thin end
of a continuum of “shadow”or “informal”housing
that, at the other end, includes squatter settle-
ments (Baer 1986; Neuwirth 2005; Harris, forth-
coming). As a result, they have received very little
attention from urban and housing research-
ers, perhaps especially in North America (cf.
Hulchanski 1982; Hardmann 1996; Mukhija 2014;
Wegmann 2015). Taking stock of what we know
about such housing in Canada, and concluding
with what we need to know, this paper seeks to
help bring secondary suites into the light of day.
This is no easy task. No person or agency—
federal, provincial, municipal, or non-profit—has
made a precise, accurate count of such apartments
for any Canadian city. We have only an approxi-
mate idea of their numbers; the characteristics,
motives, and concerns of their owners and occu-
pants; and their effects on the dynamics of
neighbourhood change. As a result, their regula-
tion has developed piecemeal, more in response to
prejudice, complaints, and lobbying than to facts.
The regulations that have mattered have, over-
whelmingly,beenthoseofmunicipalities.Housing
markets are notoriously local but some compo-
nents, notably the mortgage system, are governed
nationally. Secondary suites are not a distinct
housing submarket: they range widely in terms of
price, quality, dwelling type, and neighbourhood
location (Damas and Smith 1980). But demand for
them does have a certain coherence and is
intensely local, reflecting a combination of market
conditions, attitudes towards the subdivision of
houses, and municipal regulations and their
enforcement, and hence rates of conversion (cf.
Morrison 1978; Damas and Smith 1980; Bourne
1981, 112; Hulchanski 1982, 76). An American
study suggested that during the 1940s the units
created through conversion ranged from a low of
4% of new construction in Washington, DC to 300%
in Scranton, Pennsylvania—incidentally, until re-
cently the home of Jane Jacobs (Lipstein 1956, 82).
At the same time, according to doubtful estimates,
the proportion of units created illegally ranged
from 1% to 94% (Lipstein 1956, 22). A more recent
American bibliographic survey has confirmed that
wide local variations are still the norm (Wegmann
and Nemirow 2011, 8––9). If, as economic sociolo-
gists have argued, all markets are socially-
constructed, in this case the processes involved
are emphati-cally local (cf. Swedberg 2005).
An important element in the social construction
of any market is the naming of its parts. The way
we think about housing today—as the outcome of a
dynamic interplay of supply and demand—is
framed by the concept of “the housing market”
(Bourne 1981). This term did not exist until the
1930s (Harris 2012). Similarly, how we think about
particular types of housing is affected by the labels
we give them. Names, with their associated mean-
ings and practices, emerge slowly and exert influ-
ence after the conditions that gave birth to them
have passed. That is why we need to reflect on how
we speak about secondary suites and consider how
they came to play such a large role on the urban
scene.
The Canadian Geographer / Le G
eographe canadien 2017, xx(xx): 1–17
2 Richard Harris and Kathleen Kinsella
“Suite”talk
The naming of a stereotyped people can be fraught,
and the same goes for dwellings (Hastings 2000).
Fundamentally, the identity of the subject must be
recognized. This has not yet happened with “sec-
ondary suites.”There is no consensus on how to
define them, or what to call them. Canada’s National
Building Code considers suites to only exist in
buildings with two apartments or less (CMHC 2015,
1), but the Canada Mortgage and Housing Corpora-
tion (CMHC) undertakes surveys of those containing
three units or less, while most observers emphasize
the criterion of not being purpose-built for apart-
ments. There is no “correct”definition: the judge-
ments of landlords, realtors, tenants, and municipal
officials might reasonably differ from those of
federal agencies, or from one another.
No wonder, then, that there is no agreement on a
name. A recent survey by CMHC (2016b, 1) suggests
that over 50 different terms have been used. These
include close synonyms, such as “second suite”and
“accessory apartment”; along with terms that refer
to physical types, such as “garden”and “garage
suite”and “basement apartment”; or to types of
occupants, notably “in-law”or “granny flat”(CMHC
2014, 1). In Canada, “secondary suite”is often
favoured, at least among municipal officials, con-
sultants, and researchers, but a keyword search of
the Globe and Mail’s digital database indicates that
it is not in common usage. Judging from Google’s
Ngram Viewer, “accessory apartment”is more
commonly used in American English, while “base-
ment apartment”is more prevalent than either. (The
Ngram Viewer supports keyword searches of more
than five million published works, mostly books.)
The name matters. “Granny suite”sounds sup-
portive, but perhaps ageist and patronizing to some
ears; “basement apartment”feels less benign, while
any term containing “secondary”carries a connota-
tion of inferiority. That is why one report preferred
“second”(SHS Inc. 2004). To our ears, “suite”sounds
more homelike than “apartment,”and certainly
better than “unit,”though its hotel connotations
might connote “temporary.”Such associations
matter. An article in an appraisal journal notes
that terminology “can affect lending and valuation”
of properties with suites (Brown and Watkins 2012,
299). That is partly because names influence the
preferences of potential tenants and landlords, the
attitudes of lenders and neighbours, and therefore
public debates about regulation. No one has tried to
document these subtle differences in social mean-
ing, which in any case vary from place to place, but
they have surely been discussed, at least informally,
by politicians and public officials. We prefer the
most inclusive terms, “second suite”or “secondary
suite”and “accessory apartment,”which we use
interchangeably.
History matters
By any name, second suites have not always been
with us. Although they may be regarded as an
inferior type of accommodation, including some of
the cheapest apartments on the market today, they
were once a mark of a rising standard of living.
Until about a century ago, most single people lived
in their parents’home; a single migrant needing
cheap accommodation looked for a boarding house.
Such houses were usually kept by women who had
access to few other sources of income. In the early
1900s boarding, which included the provision of
meals, gave way to rooming, which offered more
privacy and independence to tenant and host (Harris
1992). In the 1920s, higher incomes and the
preference for privacy allowed more singles and
young couples to afford their own self-contained
apartments. There was an apartment boom and a
more modest, lesser-known movement to create
rental units in houses. Using property assessment
records, Harris (1996, 250––251) has estimated that,
during the 1920s, at least 4% of all single-family
dwellings in Toronto were converted in this manner.
The actual number was certainly higher. Although
the term was not used, in Toronto the 1920s saw the
early stirrings of the secondary suite as a factor on
the local housing scene (cf. Ruud and Nordvik 1990).
The trend gathered momentum after 1929.
During the Depression, many mortgaged homeown-
ers lost their jobs, and some their homes. There was
a sudden increase in the demand for cheap family
accommodation and in the numbers of property
owners eager to meet that demand. During the
1930s, at least 22% of Toronto’s single-family homes
were converted to create at least one apartment in
each, and during the 1940s another 18% of the
remainder was subdivided (Harris 1996, 250––251).
By 1950, it is possible that two fifths of all single-
family homes in the City of Toronto contained one
or more apartments. The war years and their
The Canadian Geographer / Le G
eographe canadien 2017, xx(xx): 1–17
Secondary suites 3
aftermath saw greater prosperity, but also a housing
shortage. For a time, the federal government helped
owners to create apartments, labeling those who
refused as “unpatriotic, un-Christian and unkind”
(quoted in Harris 1994, 45). Comparably large
increases during these two decades have been
documented for Edmonton, and more generally
for cities in the United States (US); during some
years, the number of converted units exceeded new
construction (Lipstein 1956, 58, 64; McCann 1972,
47––58).
In Toronto, unusually, many conversions were
incomplete. In the US in the late 1940s, a Depart-
ment of Labor survey reported that 81% of
converted units had their own entrance, and 93%
their own kitchen (Lipstein 1956, 28). This was not
typical in Toronto. The city’s housing stock—short
rows or pairs of houses on narrow lots—meant
that the easiest adaptation was to make a whole
floor self-contained, requiring everyone to share
the same entrance and, in three-storey conver-
sions, stairways as well. As late as the 1980s, most
accessory apartments in the old City of Toronto
occupied the second and/or third storeys and only
a third had a private entrance (Murdie and
Northrup 1990, 40). Clearly, this was an issue on
which many were compelled to compromise. In
areas developed from the 1920s onwards, and in
western cities, larger lots and the emergence of
bungalow styles favoured basement conversions
where separate entrances were probably the norm
(cf. McCann 1972, 130).
The introduction of municipal planning in the
1950s changed the rules. Hitherto, zoning had been
ad hoc, and so too had been the de facto prohibition
of suites. When provinces required municipalities to
develop comprehensive zoning plans, however,
suites became illegal in the extensive areas that
were zoned single-family residential. Those who
owned suites complained, sometimes vociferously.
In Hamilton, owners grumbled that without rental
income they could not afford their mortgage pay-
ments or property taxes (Hamilton Spectator
1953a). Councillors took up their cause, emphasiz-
ing that “hundreds of families”—tenants and own-
ers—might be forced out of their homes (Hamilton
Spectator 1953b). The local real estate board argued
that the new zoning was “not realistic enough”
(Hamilton Spectator 1953c). In the end, existing
suites were grandfathered but new ones prohibited.
This was probably a common compromise.
As incomes rose, in the late 1940s, tenants
desiring privacy sought self-contained units (see,
for example, Rose 1958, 10). This desire is now
dominant for most Canadians: in the early 1980s, a
tenant survey in Toronto and Kingston, Ontario
found that having one’s own bathroom and kitchen
trumped any other criterion in choosing a place to
live, including rent (Klein and Sears 1983b, 17). In
the 1950s and 1960s, the growing demand of young
renters for their own space was met by an apartment
boom. However, a surge of immigration from
southern and eastern Europe brought families
with different needs. A study using real estate
data estimated that 25% of houses in Metro Toronto
acquired a unit during the late 1950s and early
1960s (Morrison 1978, 129, 135). Even Edmonton, a
city with fewer immigrants, saw conversions, albeit
at a lower rate, so that by the 1980s second suites
were a recognized type of affordable housing
(McCann 1972, 58; Suttor 2016, 114). But the trend
did not go all in one direction. Deconversions also
became common but not, as many later assumed,
because of gentrification. Richard Peddie (1978,
321––327) showed that in Toronto’s Alexandra Park
neighbourhood during the 1960s, eastern European
immigrants eliminated secondary suites, presum-
ably when they could afford to. Deconversions also
happened in Edmonton at the same time (McCann
1972, 70). During the post-war boom, then, new-
comers helped ensure that conversions did not
become a thing of the past, but as they prospered
they, too, aimed for an ideal of sole occupancy.
Aflexible form
Conversions have persisted, and indeed undergone
a resurgence, for two reasons. First, since the 1970s
few apartments have been built. Private developers
have produced condominiums instead, and al-
though some condo units are rented out they are
unaffordable to moderate-income households.
Then, too, from the 1990s very little social housing
has filled the gap, so that waiting lists are now years-
long (Suttor 2016). Secondary suites have become
the only option, in the process letting governments
off the hook for housing the poor.
A second reason for the persistence of suites is
that, like the various forms of lodging, they offer
unparalleled flexibility to the market (Skaburskis
1991, 165––166; Friedman 2001, 184). Peddie (1978,
The Canadian Geographer / Le G
eographe canadien 2017, xx(xx): 1–17
4 Richard Harris and Kathleen Kinsella
324––326), whose study of Alexandra Park is the
most detailed analysis of annual changes in subtly
differentiated household arrangements, speaks of
how conversions functioned as a “safety valve”(cf.
Cave 1967). Boarding and rooming had always
waxed and waned according to supply and demand.
In the 1970s it came back, in the form of “bach-
elorettes”—improvised bachelor pads where,
controversially, landlords installed hotplates and
bathrooms within bedrooms (Whitzman 2009, 173––
181). Recently, the sharing of bathrooms, kitchens,
and other spaces has reappeared in another guise,
as young adults rent rooms or share apartments to
stretch their incomes. Conversions are the substan-
tial end of improvisation. It is a feature of individu-
als as it is, in the aggregate, for the housing market.
As Goodbrand (2016) documents for Calgary,
secondary suites are transitional, for mobile tenants
and also for their owners, who create or take them
back as financial and family needs require. And,
when broad economic change affects the calcula-
tions of many owners and tenants, the aggregate of
conversions can quickly rise or fall.
Evidence for the old City of Toronto during the
1970s and 1980s is the best available. In the early
1980s, the annual number of documented conver-
sions there varied widely, peaking at 649 in 1982,
dropping to 146 the following year, and then
jumping back to 822 in 1985 (EKOS Research
Associates 1987, 13). Broader cycles occurred over
decades. Between 1971 and 1978, Toronto lost units
through deconversion, chiefly to office and com-
mercial use but also through gentrification, but then
in the 1980s it gained many back again (Vischer
Skaburskis 1979a, 182––190; Klein and Sears 1983a;
City of Toronto 1986; Steele 1993, 108––109). Across
the metropolitan area these averaged 200 a year but,
following the introduction in 1986 of the Rental
Housing Protection Act, conversion activity dropped
to two a year (Fleming 2015, 4). Conversions, then,
are sensitive both to market conditions and to
municipal policy.
Unfortunately, policy has routinely lagged behind
conditions. Prompt federal action during World War
II was the exception. In Hamilton, the regulation of
suites was tightened in the early 1950s when a
comprehensive zoning plan was approved, respond-
ing to “indiscriminate”conversions that had hap-
pened recently (Klein and Sears 1983c, 8). (Those
units were grandfathered.) Three decades later,
a province-wide survey showed that all Ontario
municipalities still had tight regulations, although
this did not reflect recent debates or needs (Klein
and Sears 1983a, 35). Conversions were widely
prohibited; this prohibition included entire subur-
ban municipalities, including all of those around
Hamilton. Although the Ontario building code
specified a minimum unit size of 265 square feet,
local regulations required suites to be between 50%
and 165% larger than this (Klein and Sears 1983a,
40). Hamilton demanded an extravagant 700 square
feet, only a little smaller than the average size of
new homes built in the late 1940s (Klein and Sears
1983c, 14). In some cities the need was for more
conversions, not fewer. Thirty years later again,
CMHC (2016b, 3) found that three out of ten Ontario
municipalities still had “restrictive”standards even
though provincial legislation had long instructed
them to be permissive.
Clearly, the message of the market has often been
at odds with municipal by-laws. One way or another,
the market has probably won, if only through surges
of illegal suites in times of need. As in other ways,
this lagged interplay of market and state underlines
the importance of viewing the present in the light of
the past.
Numbers count
In framing policies for secondary suites, municipal-
ities know that they are groping in the dark. To make
sense of what we know about the character of suites,
and of their owners and occupants, we should
consider first the limitations of the attempts made
simply to count them.
Every agency, consultant, or researcher who has
addressed this subject has deplored the lack of
precise and accurate data, offering caveats about
their own estimates (e.g., Damas and Smith 1980,
3––4). In the late 1970s, CMHC commissioned an
analysis of housing stock changes in five cities:
Vancouver, Calgary, Toronto, Montreal, and Saint
John. The consultants concluded that “the case
studies could not yield reliable estimates of the
extent of physical conversions”(Vischer Skaburskis
1979b, 16). Soon, the Ontario Ministry of Municipal
Affairs and Housing commissioned an equally
exhaustive provincial analysis which concluded
that “only the vaguest estimates have been at-
tempted of the number of [illegal] units”(Klein
and Sears 1983b, 23). Given that everyone agreed
The Canadian Geographer / Le G
eographe canadien 2017, xx(xx): 1–17
Secondary suites 5
that these outnumbered legal apartments, the
results were at best approximate. Since then, no
one has provided national or even province-wide
estimates. Recently, the best local studies have
examined the cities of Vancouver and Toronto; both
reports discuss and concede the challenge of
enumeration (City of Vancouver 2009, 10––17; SHS
Inc. 2004, 8––10).
Responding to the data shortages revealed by
national and provincial surveys, in 1983 the City of
Toronto and the Ontario Ministry of Municipal
Affairs and Housing developed one of the better
databases ever assembled for a whole city. It is the
basis for some estimates reported above. Named the
Housing Occupancy Analysis System (HOAS), it was
based on annually updated property assessment
records, supplemented with (unspecified) informa-
tion on structural characteristics together with
“some demographic information”(City of Toronto
1986, 2). These data provided valuable insight into
short-term fluctuations in conversions and, to a
lesser extent, deconversions—and also into their
shifting geography. (Deconversions are especially
elusive.) But it is unclear how many illegal units were
overlooked in the assessments. The same question
applies to other studies that relied on this source
(e.g., McCann 1972; Harris 1996). After all, owners of
suites have every incentive to discourage inspection
and minimize taxes. Another study in Toronto in the
1980s found that although assessments provided a
good guide to the “general location”of conversions
they were “inaccurate in determining the status of
rental apartments”at particular addresses (Murdie
and Northrup 1990, 22). Not surprisingly, then,
consultants concluded that the yield of accurate
data from assessment records alone was “disap-
pointingly meagre”(Klein and Sears 1983d, 5; cf.
SHS Inc. 2004, 8). Unfortunately, in its published
reports the City of Toronto did not comment on the
degree to which HOAS overcame the limitations of
this source.
Some agencies, and other researchers, have
turned to different sources, sometimes to supple-
ment assessments. Apartment listings in news-
papers were once an option (Starr Group 2000). In
the late 1970s, from a survey of advertisements in
the Vancouver Sun, Cheng (1980, 33) estimated that
17% of all rental units were in secondary suites,
while Steele (1993) used a similar source to track
fluctuations in the late 1980s. A decade later, SHS
Inc. (2004, 9) found that newspaper advertisements
were a good way of highlighting where such
accommodation was concentrated. Today, listings
on Kijiji, an online classified advertising service,
offer similar possibilities. However, because differ-
ent types of landlords recruit tenants in different
ways, this method cannot yield an accurate estimate
of the contribution of secondary suites to the rental
stock.
Other researchers have used utility records.
Recently, the Regional District of Nanaimo (2013,
13) gathered data on extra user rates for water and
sewer connections, but conceded that “the actual
number of secondary suites is likely much higher”
than the figure it obtained. Presumably, the problem
is that many landlords include utilities in rent. In the
1970s and 1980s, McCann (1972) and Peddie (1978)
used assessments with city directories. Then, in a
complicated alternative, the Vancouver City Plan-
ning Department (1986, 1) combined “census,
telephone, directory, assessment and social assis-
tance”information, although in an unspecified way
and conceding that “absolute numbers may not be
exact.”The steady decline of city directories and the
advent of cell phones has rendered this particular
mix-and-match method obsolete.
A different method of documenting conversions
—as well as deconversions—was undertaken by
Philip Morrison (1978). He used information for
properties included in the Multiple Listing Service
(MLS) used by real estate agents. Comparing
properties listed at least once in the periods of
1957––1964 and 1965––1967, he inferred directions
and rates of change in property characteristics. MLS
listings were, and remain, more complete than
assessments: using property assessments, a study
of the amalgamated City of Toronto identified only
31,000 suites but projected 125,000 suites from a
sample of real estate listings. If the former is an
underestimate, the latter surely overstates the case.
In many houses, basement kitchens and bathrooms
are used on an irregular basis and do not signify the
presence of a separate suite: southern European
immigrants often maintain two kitchens, one for
special events. An accessory apartment usually
raises the value of a property, and so vendors and
agents have every incentive to list one if it exists. Set
against that is the unlikely possibility that munici-
pal officials might scan listings to identify illegal
suites. On balance, MLS data would appear to be a
promising source that has not yet been fully
exploited.
The Canadian Geographer / Le G
eographe canadien 2017, xx(xx): 1–17
6 Richard Harris and Kathleen Kinsella
An alternative complement to property assess-
ments, and for many researchers the obvious
source, is the census. In fact, census coverage of
second suites, and of the people who occupy them,
is usually “not reliable”(SHS Inc. 2004, 8; cf. Starr
Group 2000, 9). In 2006, the Canadian Census
instructed field workers to make a special effort
to identify suites (City of Vancouver 2009, 15n5).
The City of Vancouver obtained special tabulations
which, when compared with assessments, yielded
what may be one of the most accurate estimates to
date for any Canadian city. This indicated that about
35% of all properties in single-family areas con-
tained suites, 18% on the city’s affluent west side,
and 48% on the east. Even then, however, final
estimates were based on rule-of-thumb “adjust-
ments”and probably produced “some undercover-
age”(City of Vancouver 2009, 11, 17). Assuming
enumerators had done a thorough job, an early
American study compared census counts with
building permit data (Lipstein 1956). An unavoid-
able limitation of such methods, however, is that
census data are available at best every five years.
In sum, if academics commonly grumble about
the poor quality of available data, in the case of
secondary suites they have ample cause.
A geographical convergence
One of the more certain things about apartments in
houses is that, until very recently, they have been
overwhelmingly concentrated in the city as opposed
to the suburbs. For Edmonton, this was demon-
strated in a striking series of maps produced by
Larry McCann (1972, 47––55). Conversion has been
taken as a sign of neighbourhood decline, associ-
ated with the influx of lower-income tenants and of
first-generation arrivals. In his study of Toronto in
the second quarter of the 20
th
century, Harris (1996,
250––251) estimated that rates of property conver-
sion in the city were about 20 times greater than in
the suburbs. This difference was probably higher
than in other Canadian urban areas because, at that
time, a high proportion of its suburban homes were
very small and lacked basements. But the contrast
was indicative, and continued everywhere into the
post-war era. Morrison (1978, 163) found that
during the 1960s rates of conversion were highest
in the older housing stock (cf. Lipstein 1956; Bourne
1981, 115). A classic example was Toronto’s South
Parkdale, which went into decline in the middle
decades of the 20
th
century as single-family homes
were divided into apartments and rooming houses
(Whitzman 2009). The City’s HOAS database shows
that by the late 1970s this area was still gaining
inexpensive rental accommodation, through inten-
sification and conversion (City of Toronto 1986, 9,
11). Only a vigorous campaign against illegal
conversions halted the trend.
Since the 1970s, two developments have narrowed
the city-suburban gap. Within the inner city, gentrifi-
cation has led to an increase in deconversion (City of
Toronto 1986; Ley 1996, 66, 100). Middle-income
buyers acquired modest-sized, semi-detached, and
sometimes row, houses with basement apartments
which they adapted for their own use. They could do
so because landlord-tenant legislation routinely
permits evictions where the rented spaces are
needed for the use of the owner’s family (e.g.,
Fleming 2015, 459––489). The HOAS database docu-
mented a classic case: Riverdale. This was an area
that had also declined in the 1950s and 1960s, with
many basement conversions. As gentrification gath-
ered pace from the mid-1970s, however, North
Riverdale lost these through deconversion, its net
loss amounting to 1,612 units overnine years (City of
Toronto 1986, 10-11). Other areas, such as Toronto’s
west-central corridor, turned around a little later:
according to the HOAS data, the balance shifted
suddenly in 1978––79 (City of Toronto 1986, 12).
The displacement of lower-income tenants, and
the loss of affordable housing, is the charge most
consistently leveled against gentrification, in
Canada as elsewhere (Freeman and Braconi 2004;
Ellen and O’Regan 2010). Legislative attempts have
been made to halt or slow the trend. As noted above,
one of these met with some success in Ontario in the
1980s and early 1990s. But, paradoxically, a more
generally effective antidote may have been the
inflation in house prices that many Canadian cities
have experienced since the early 2000s. Buying a
house in Toronto, Vancouver, or nearby communi-
ties has become unaffordable to the majority of
young households. Many have purchased condos,
but others have fought to acquire single-family
homes. Increasingly, and although the trend has not
been documented, this seems to have entailed
creating basement suites. In this manner, price
inflation may have helped create secondary suites.
Of course, the reverse is also true: suites help push
prices higher.
The Canadian Geographer / Le G
eographe canadien 2017, xx(xx): 1–17
Secondary suites 7
Suburban changes have also helped narrow the
city-suburban gap. Price inflation in some markets
has encouraged developers of new homes to offer
the “granny flat”option—a name which sounds
more appealing to buyers than its alternatives, even
when buyers have no plans to host their kin. The
trend is recent, and has affected those metropolitan
areas with the greatest price inflation. Building
permits indicate that, in Vancouver, the proportion
of new homes with suites increased from 5% in 2000
to 18% in 2009 (City of Vancouver 2009, 8). The
trend in Nanaimo, across the Georgia Strait, rose
more rapidly—from 14% in 2005 to 62% in 2011
(Regional District of Nanaimo 2013). Demand may
be exceeding supply. In Vancouver, in fiscal year
2007/8, inspections of new homes indicated that 8%
had legal suites while 20% had one illegal suite and
15% had two. Even urban areas with less frothy
markets have been affected. By the early 2010s, 10%
of new homes in the Guelph, Ontario area had suites
(Touati 2013). From both sides, the city-suburban
divide is now closing.
The cheapest housing option
Because dwelling conversions have been concen-
trated in declining neighbourhoods, most observers
have assumed that, square foot for square foot, they
have offered a cheaper housing option than other
rental accommodation (e.g., Ontario Ministry of
Housing and Municipal Affairs 1992b, 4). The
available evidence is scattered, but in general it is
clear that that is true.
The only national data that speak to this are
published by CMHC. The agency reports that
average rents in the “secondary”market as a whole,
which includes condominiums, are slightly above
those for purpose-built rental housing in the
“primary”market (CMHC 2016a, 5). But the second-
ary market is very diverse, so that rents are
polarized. Although exact figures are not reported,
CMHC (2016a, 5n5) indicates that accessory suites
are “the least expensive housing type.”Local studies
confirm this (e.g., TRAC 1996). Cheng’s (1980)
survey of listings found that secondary suites
were up to 50% cheaper than primary units,
controlling for size. Other surveys found something
similar for Calgary and Toronto in the early and mid-
2000s, as did a major interview survey of tenants of
758 suites in Toronto in the late 1980s (Murdie and
Northrup 1990; Starr Group 2000, 74; SHS Inc. 2004,
36; CitySpaces Consulting 2007, 18). The wider-
ranging analysis undertaken by the City of Vancou-
ver at the same time found that west-side suites
rented for about the same as apartments in the
primary market, but the more numerous east-side
suites were cheaper.
Not surprisingly, suites supposedly house people
with lower incomes. This is one of the arguments
that planners and researchers have most consis-
tently made in their defense (e.g., Poulton 1995, 97;
CMHC 2015, 2––3). The evidence is poor, but broadly
supportive. A circumstantial element is that some
local surveys indicate that tenants of suites include
a large proportion of younger, single persons and
couples, as well as single parents (e.g., TRAC 1996, 7;
ACT 1999, 5). Contradictory evidence is that the
analysis undertaken by the City of Vancouver found
that although households in secondary suites had
lower incomes, they included a low proportion of
tenants in the very bottom income group (City of
Vancouver 2009, 20). Many of the latter occupied
social housing.
Historically, lower-income households have in-
cluded more than their share of immigrants. At first,
renting was all that most new Canadians could
afford. Then, after a few years, renting out rooms
and apartments within their homes was how many
immigrants realized their dream of owning prop-
erty. For most newcomer groups, this was an even
higher priority than it was for native-born Cana-
dians. Often, landlords ended up renting to others
from the home country, in part because many faced
discrimination in the rental market. A survey of 238
homeowners in Burnaby in the 1980s found that one
reason why neighbourhood residents opposed
suites was because they might bring in “undesirable
ethnics”(Vischer 1987, 136). In the same decade, a
survey on Long Island, New York, found that whites
were reluctant to rent to blacks (Rudel 1984), and
milder forms of the same discrimination surely exist
in Canada. But there have also been positive
preferences expressed by both tenants and land-
lords (Lehrer 1991, 57––68). In recent years, the best-
documented example of this sort of arrangement
has been provided by an ethnographic study of
Salvadoreans on Long Island: an encargado system
of subletting to compatriots has helped immigrants
adjust to their new home (Mahler 1995, 188––213).
The Canadian research is more limited. The most
telling information was provided in the major
The Canadian Geographer / Le G
eographe canadien 2017, xx(xx): 1–17
8 Richard Harris and Kathleen Kinsella
survey of Toronto suites undertaken in the late
1980s. It found that 25% of the owners and tenants
were Portuguese immigrants, and that 80% of the
Portuguese owners rented to their fellow immi-
grants (cf. Morrison 1978, 247; Murdie and
Northrup 1990, 50, 56). Similar associations be-
tween landlords and tenants existed among Chinese
immigrants, as well as the host British-Canadian
population. More fragmentary evidence of similar
ethnic preferences has been found in Winnipeg, as
well as for francophones in Montreal (Hilton et al.
1989; Carter and Vitiello 2015). Such preferences
have persisted and are apparent among all groups:
one reason why, in suburban Toronto, South Asian
homeowners have been finishing their basements is
to accommodate visitors and family (Agrawal 2006).
And so, the need of many immigrants and refugees
for affordable places to rent has been mentioned
as another argument in favour of secondary suites
(CMHC 2015, 2).
Landlords and their neighbours
If it is difficult to identify the characteristics of
those who live in secondary suites, the same is even
more true of their owners. The characteristics and
motives of landlords is one of the most neglected
topics in Canadian, and indeed North American,
urban research; this is especially true for smaller-
scale owners (Gilderbloom and Appelbaum 1988;
Mallach 2007; Apgar and Norasimhan 2008). It
seems that the owners of suites have always
included a disproportionate number of immigrants:
the Toronto survey which found that 25% of the
owners of suites were Portuguese was undertaken at
a time when people of Portuguese origin accounted
for barely 6% of Metro Toronto’s population.
Some immigrant owners house extended family or
friends: that same study found that 30% of tenants
were kin or friends of the owners, a proportion that
would probably have been higher among immi-
grants (Murdie and Northrup 1990, 47). Other
immigrants view landlordism as a stepping stone
to sole-occupancy homeownership, and perhaps as
a steady source of income for people whose limited
English and job skills are ill-suited to the modern
labour market (Lehrer 1991; CMHC 2015). In other
respects, however, it is not clear that the owners of
suites are drawn from any particular social group.
Morrison (1978, 155) indicated that those who
purchased converted dwellings had lower than
average incomes, but a survey in North Vancouver
indicated that there, at least, they constituted a
cross-section of occupations (ACT, 1999, 5).
This diversity of landlords is not surprising. It is
likely that, almost everywhere, many owners of
suites were not primarily landlords. A rare survey of
landlords, including owners of purpose-built struc-
tures as well as of secondary suites, found that
across six cities only 16% derived most of their
income from rents (Arcturus Solutions 2005, ii). Half
owned five or fewer units, and a third owned three
or fewer. Most of these must have been owners of
second suites. It seems that roughly half of all
apartments in homes are controlled by resident
landlords: one survey estimated a figure of 46%
across British Columbia (BC); recent interviews in
Calgary indicated a figure closer to 60%; and the
major Toronto survey found that 64% of owners
possessed only one property, suggesting that about
that many were resident landlords (TRAC 1996, 4;
Goodbrand 2016, 97; Murdie and Northrup 1990,
50); a study of Edmonton in the 1960s suggested a
figure of 75% (Lipstein 1956; McCann 1972, 139; cf.
Damas and Smith 1980, 35). For many owners of
suites, being a landlord is a part-time activity and
does not define their identity, either in their own
eyes or those of the community at large.
The distinction between resident and absentee is
important. Those who live on site are likely to be
treating rent as an income supplement—helping
them to pay off a mortgage, or prospectively help in
retirement. They may also take in tenants for non-
monetary reasons: to help out friends and kin, or for
company (cf. Klein and Sears 1983a, 25; CMHC 2015,
3; Mendez and Quastel 2015, 10). In some cases,
they may give price concessions in return for
services rendered, an arrangement documented
for Montreal in the 1970s (Krohn et al. 1977;
Goodbrand 2016, 100, 101, 149). The resident
landlord’s mix of motives is hinted at in a major
Toronto study. The authors did not distinguish
resident owners, but these probably made up the
great majority who were surveyed. Murdie and
Northrup (1990, 66) found that although 68% said
that making money was “very important,”in about a
third of cases through property appreciation, 23%
said that providing a home to friends and family was
equally or more important. There are many types of
people—young and old, in a variety of occupations
—whose real estate decisions might be shaped by
The Canadian Geographer / Le G
eographe canadien 2017, xx(xx): 1–17
Secondary suites 9
this mix of goals. In contrast, absentee landlords
almost certainly view their property more exclu-
sively in financial terms, whether as a source of
income or as a capital investment. They are more
likely to depend on rental income and, as they
approach the status of full-time landlords, their
social position comes to be defined in those terms.
Because their motives are different, resident and
absentee landlords are likely to have a different
relationship with their tenants and to their proper-
ties. Absentee owners will see their tenants less
often and, if they employ managers or rent collec-
tors, perhaps never (Sternlieb 1966). American
studies have indicated that, in part because absen-
tee owners do not have to live with the rotten
porches or dripping taps, they do not maintain their
properties as well (Sternlieb 1966, 174; Porell 1985;
cf. Gilderbloom and Appelbaum 1988, 83––107).
Fragmentary evidence, and logic, suggests that the
same is true in Canada (Cheng 1980, 72), which is
presumably why one of the very few studies of the
market for conversions distinguished absentee
owners from all others (Hulchanski 1982). It follows
that neighbourhoods with many such owners are
more vulnerable to decline. In contrast, resident
landlords take better care of their properties and
have closer relations with their tenants.
There is contradictory evidence as to whether
closer means better. For landlords, there are possi-
ble disadvantages. That may be why an early survey
of Ontario evidence concluded that “conversion of
single family dwellings into two or more units ... is
not attractive to many people”(Hulchanski 1982,
42). The Toronto study revealed that many land-
lords, most of whom would have been resident,
found the experience stressful: 33% complained
about tenant noise, 30% about damage to property,
and 22% about managing rent arrears (Murdie and
Northrup 1990, 61). Strikingly, they agreed that the
best way that governments could support them was
not through financial assistance, but rather by
facilitating evictions (Murdie and Northrup 1990,
73). Tenant quality is a major concern for all
landlords (Arcturus Solutions 2005, ii), but espe-
cially for those who have to live with them cheek by
jowl. The skimpy evidence pertaining to the views of
tenants in suites is more mixed. A Calgary survey
found that those with resident landlords were more
satisfied, but another in BC reported the opposite
(Goodbrand 2016, 97; TRAC 1996, 5). We can
perhaps understand the balance: resident landlords
have an interest in getting on well with those who
share their home, but many are amateurs, unfamil-
iar with relevant incentives and statutes (cf. Stern-
lieb 1966, 190). Unwittingly, for example, they might
trespass on spaces which they consider “theirs”but
for which, by law, they should request access (cf.
Mendez 2016).
Fears about the effects on neighbourhood decline
are one reason why neighbours usually oppose
suites. This was clearly true in the 1970s and 1980s
(Klein and Sears 1983a, 33). For example, a survey
conducted by the City of Vancouver in 1975 found
that 37% of city residents would countenance suites
in their neighbourhood, but almost two thirds
would not (Cheng 1980, 38). Hulchanski (1982, 42)
reports a study that found a similar proportion in
four Ontario cities. Those opposed are more likely to
organize and speak out (Ward et al. 1986, 26).
Residents are concerned about use values, notably
parking, even though tenants are less likely to own
cars. For some there is concern about a loss of face
with neighbours, and there is a widespread percep-
tion that suites lower property values (cf. CMHC
2015, 4––5). If suites are the cheaper housing option
for their tenants, they may in turn cheapen the
whole property. In fact, the slim Canadian and
American evidence on this is mixed (EKOS Research
Associates 1987, 20––22; Ontario Ministry of Hous-
ing and Ministry of Municipal Affairs 1992b, 9;
Brown and Watkins 2012, 300; Infranca 2014). This
should not be surprising. Poorly maintained, absen-
tee-owned properties may indeed bring problem
tenants, noise, and cars. But income from basement
suites makes homes more affordable, enabling
owners to pay more, and nudging prices up.
Significantly, the Toronto survey found that 22%
of those who owned suites did so primarily because
they believed that this would increase the value of
their property (Murdie and Northrup 1990, 66).
It seems that public attitudes have been becoming
more favourable to suites, perhaps because more
property owners see the practical and financial
advantages. A recent survey in Calgary found that
84% of residents favoured suites in principle and
supported legalization, while 76% even endorsed
them in their own neighbourhood (Calgary Home-
less Foundation 2010, 2). It is likely that attitudes
varied considerably, being least supportive in more
affluent areas. In general, responses to such surveys
depend on how questions are phrased and on the
manner in which respondents believe that suites
The Canadian Geographer / Le G
eographe canadien 2017, xx(xx): 1–17
10 Richard Harris and Kathleen Kinsella
will be regulated. A carefully managed campaign in
North Vancouver generated popular support for
widespread re-zonings because a major effort was
made to address the specific concerns—about
parking and so forth—that local residents had
expressed (ACT 1999, 9). Here, as more generally,
shifting attitudes have been paralleled by the
evolution of public policy.
The governance of suites
More than with any other type of housing, the
regulation of apartments in houses has been left to
municipalities. Since the 1930s, the federal govern-
ment has supported home ownership, and occa-
sionally encouraged the construction of apartment
buildings, but it was only during the war years that it
briefly acted to promote suites. Since its establish-
ment in 1946, CMHC has generally adopted a hands-
off policy on the issue. From 1973, the Residential
Rehabilitation Assistance Program (RRAP) has en-
abled some homeowners to keep and improve the
suites they already owned, and has also funded a
few conversions (Newman 1982, 76; Falkenhagen
2001, 21––24). In this period, to our knowledge, the
only other program that assisted conversions was
the Ontario Home Renewal Program, which lasted
for just two years, 1976––78, because it ran into
municipal (and probably residents’) opposition
(Newman 1982, 82). The City of Toronto, and
perhaps other municipalities, briefly extended this
program using their own funds. It is only recently,
however, that CMHC has actively encouraged prov-
inces and municipalities to promote suites—for
example by describing those jurisdictions that have
been most active (CMHC 2014, 2015, 2016b, 2017).
Provincial governments have been more actively
and consistently involved. For example, over the
past half century Ontario’s policy has shifted
progressively. In the 1980s, its Ministry of Housing
helped homeowners create suites. The program was
judged a success and the 1989 Planning Act strongly
encouraged municipalities to amend their official
plans and by-laws to encourage “as-of-right”zoning
for suites (Ontario Ministry of Housing and Ministry
of Municipal Affairs 1992a). Until 1992, however,
municipalities were not allowed to license suites.
Policy in the 1990s flip-flopped, as the NDP’s
encouragement of suites was reversed by the Tories,
but the long-run trend has been supportive. In 2011,
a new Act required municipalities to allow accessory
units in all residential areas (CMHC 2014, 8; 2015, 8).
A parallel evolution in policy occurred in BC, and
specifically in Vancouver. Here, a more relaxed
approach gathered momentum from the 1970s,
culminating in blanket approval in 2004 (Cheng
1980, 45––48; City of Vancouver 2009, 7––9; Mendez
and Quastel 2015). Then, in 2010, the City approved
in principle the construction of small, purpose-built
“laneway”apartments (500––1200 square feet) on
virtually all single-family lots (Kirk 2017). One
observer described this as “the most permissive
policy in North America”(Bula, 2015), but recently
the municipality of North Vancouver has gone one
further by allowing both laneway houses and
accessory suites on properties in single-family areas
(Shepherd 2017). By the end of 2016, 2,000
applications had been approved (Kirk 2017). As
memories of Depression and war faded, a half
century ago the provincial message was that suites
were bad; now they are good. This sounds like a
positive move, in that it produces rental accommo-
dation for lower-income households, helps make
houses more affordable to young buyers, and
increases residential densities—a current planning
mantra. But sceptics could point out that it also lets
governments off the hook for housing the poor.
In the end it is the actions, or inaction, of
municipalities that shape events. As Hulchanski
(1982, 97) has said, without local buy-in “provincial
policies ...could flounder.”In terms of the law, and
at least in theory, most municipalities have slowly
been getting the provincial message. A recent survey
in the US has shown how complex the regulatory
issues can be (Infranca 2014). But, in Canada, CMHC
surveys show that, by 2014, the proportion of
Canadian municipalities that allow accessory apart-
ments had reached 77%. Among those in Census
Metropolitan Areas, the proportion had jumped
from 54% to 78% in eight years (CMHC 2014, 2; 2015,
1). Many municipalities now encourage legal suites.
Outside Toronto, for example, the Regional Munici-
pality of Halton offers interest-free, forgivable loans
of as much as $50,000 to owners who create
affordable apartments, while Edmonton offers up
to $20,000 (Le 2016; CMHC 2015, 6).
Many stakeholdersare now pushing municipalities
in that direction.In BC,the Tenant Resource Advisory
Centre has favoured legalization for some time
(TRAC 1996). Toronto enacted a by-law in 1999
that permitted suites almost everywhere in theCity, a
The Canadian Geographer / Le G
eographe canadien 2017, xx(xx): 1–17
Secondary suites 11
policy promoted by the Landlord’s Self-Help Centre
(2016; SHS Inc. 2004, i; CMHC 2015, 7). “Supporting
materials”posted on the web show that Calgary’s
current enthusiasm for suites is based on strong
endorsement froma range of stakeholders, including
non-profits, neighbourhood associations, property
management companies, the Chamber of Commerce,
and Rachel Notley, the NDP Premier (De Jong 2014).
At one time, there were dissenting voices. In the late
1970s, some municipal officials believed that illegal
apartments were preferable because their “owners
... are more cautious and make a greater effort to
maintain the property”(Vischer Skaburskis 1979b,
28; cf. Poulton 1995). Now, however, thereappears to
be a consensus in the opposite direction. As Mendez
and Quastel (2015, 13) conclude, apartments in
homes have gone “from an illegitimate anomaly to
official local state practice.”
In fact, the shift has not been that neat or
complete. In Ontario, only 65% of municipalities
have a policy for suites, and barely half have “good
support”from the council (CMHC 2017, 7, 10). Even
in municipalities that allow suites, many are still
illegal. Some contravene zoning by-laws that may
themselves contradict provincial guidelines; if in-
spected, others would violate building, health, or
occupancy codes. That is why there has often been
strong local resistance to the licensing of suites. In
Calgary, licensing has not happened, despite the
support of popular Mayor Nenshi; in Hamilton, it
was stopped dead in 2012 by the concerted
opposition of landlords and of some tenants (Van
Dongen 2012). Across Ontario, only 11% of munici-
palities have some sort of licensing system (CMHC
2017, 13). To be meaningful, licensing would require
the inspection of every apartment. Many landlords
would have to spend money, or take units off the
market. They would resent the loss of income, while
the disappearance of affordable housing would hurt
tenants. As CMHC (2015, 5) has commented in a
recent survey “the challenge is to create regulations
that balance the health and safety needs of tenants
with a permissive and expedient development
process for property owners.”That is more easily
said than done. There is no assurance that any
regulatory scheme can satisfy both requirements,
and also be affordable.
That is why, where licensing has been introduced,
it has often been made voluntary. In Mississauga, for
example, following consultations and an educational
campaign, a licensing system was introduced in
January 2014. Within 16 months, only 67 applica-
tions had been received, with 100 pending (Clay
2015). This surely amounted to only a small fraction
of the number of suites in this city of half a million,
but that is scarcely surprising. The license cost $500
and entailed separate inspections for fire and
electrical safety, a building permit, a zoning certifi-
cate, and proof of general liability insurance for
at least $2 million (City of Mississauga 2014). No
enforcement program was envisaged. Presumably,
the thinking is that licensed apartments will com-
mand a premium, encouraging owners to clamber on
board. It is doubtful that will happen and, if it does,
whether the result will be affordable to low-income
tenants.
The commonest element of flexibility is the
typical, de facto policy of discretionary enforce-
ment. An Ontario survey indicated that in the 1980s
building inspections were ad hoc, undertaken in
response to neighbours’complaints rather than in a
systematic, pro-active manner (cf. Cheng 1980;
Klein and Sears 1983c, 26). Even then, in two out
of six municipalities, inspectors were “conciliatory.”
Apparently, they tried not to close down the more
affordable apartments, for example by allowing
owners more time to fix problems and perhaps to
cut some of the less-vital corners. In 1964, Vancou-
ver had formalized this practice by introducing a
“hardship”category for lower-income tenants and
owners (Cheng 1980, 52; Vancouver City Planning
Department 1986). In Calgary, Hong Kong, or indeed
anywhere, tolerance of such informal practices is
based on the state’s recognition that limited
resources prevent it from meeting all needs, or
enforcing all rules (Tananescu et al. 2010; Harris,
forthcoming). As McNeill (1990, 61) observed in her
guide for Canadian landlords, “officials do not
approve the rentals, they merely ignore the prac-
tice.”The same is probably still true, although
growing enthusiasm for legal suites may now be
eroding official tolerance for those that are illegal. A
straw in the wind is that the Real Estate Council of
Ontario now requires agents to determine the legal
status of any suite that they list, thereby bringing
non-conforming units into the open (Aron 2014).
Whether municipalities scrutinize those listings is
another question, and almost nothing is known
about exactly how inspectors go about their work.
For the present, illegal suites persist in large
numbers. No precise and accurate estimates have
been provided for any city. Plausible calculations
The Canadian Geographer / Le G
eographe canadien 2017, xx(xx): 1–17
12 Richard Harris and Kathleen Kinsella
have indicated that in Calgary the ratio of legal to
non-conforming apartments in existing homes is
2:3, and in BC about 1:1 (De Jong 2014, 8; TRAC
1996, 3). Informed observers indicate that illegality
has been common, if not the majority status, for
decades (Vischer Skaburskis 1979b, 12; Damas and
Smith 1980, 16; Klein and Sears 1983a, 43; 1983c,
23; Vancouver City Planning Department 1986; cf.
Lipstein 1956, 23; Gordon 1987, 42). There is no
reason to believe that much has changed. Lurking in
musty basements, illegal suites remain the most
elusive of all.
Concluding discussion
So where do we stand: what do we know, and what
do we need to know? The short answers are,
respectively, “not much”and “a lot,”but a longer
answer is more helpful.
We can say with confidence that accessory apart-
ments are common in every Canadian urban centre.
They probably account for between a fifth and a
quarter of all rental accommodations, of which
perhaps half do not conform to current zoning by-
laws and/or fail to meet at least one other important
municipal regulation. Clearly, suites house a dis-
proportionate number of immigrants and the most
vulnerable, or at least those with low incomes, but
are owned by a wide range of people. In most places,
owners probably include a roughly equal number of
absentee landlords, some of whom own many
properties, and resident landlords, who operate
on a smaller scale and are rarely driven only by
financial considerations. But putting current plau-
sible percentages on any of these statements for any
city, and even more for Canada as a whole, is
impossible. The only issue about which we can be
fairly definite is the proportion of municipalities
that now countenance secondary suites: 78%, as of
2014 (CMHC 2015, 1). Even then, however, there are
important supplementary questions to which we
have no answer. For example, we do not know how
many municipalities have introduced licensing
schemes, how those have been implemented, and
with what degrees of success.
So, what do we most need to know? In part, the
answer depends on our interests and purposes.
Those concerned with how immigrants and refugees
are adapting to Canadian life will want to know more
about the role these suites play for newcomers,
whether in the form of affordable apartments or,
when owned, as accessible investments. They are
also settings in which extended kin may share space,
or symbolically affirm a new identity. Alternatively,
those interested in the housing situation of women,
especially single parents, will want to know about
the availability, location, and price of a type of
accommodation that is often ground-oriented and
relatively affordable. And many may want to
consider the ways in which suites enable people to
age in place. When it is released, the results of the
2016 Census may help with this. Full answers,
however, will require survey research.
In recent years, many municipalities have ex-
pressed concerns about the growing concentration
of the poor, and of various types of disadvantage, in
specific neighbourhoods. They have begun to target
resources at these areas. Many, but not all, of these
neighbourhoods are immigrant reception areas
which, because of inner city gentrification, are likely
to be located in inner suburbs. It would be interest-
ing, and for policy purposes helpful, to know
whether these areas have seen an increase in
conversions, what role suites play in such areas,
and whether a targeted program might usefully
encourage them.
Those with more general policy interests will
attach higher priority to other sorts of questions. A
major reason why licensing systems have met with
resistance is that there is a common belief that many
suites, especially those that are illegal, fail to meet
the sort of minimum standards that most Canadians
expect. In order to address this problem, we need to
know how many suites there are, what proportion are
illegal or deficient, and if so, in whatways and in what
degrees. The ideal way of answering would be to
undertake a proactive survey of suites, legal and
illegal, but this would be very time-consuming and,
because of legal constraints, require the close
cooperation of municipal officials. The people who
currently have the most accurate understanding of
such deficiencies are local building inspectors and
enforcement officers. Carefully constructed inter-
views with such officials should provide valuable
insights. Such interviews could also tell us some-
thing about the ways in which existing by-laws,
nominally on the books, are in fact enforced.
There is hardly any policy which can afford to
ignore the question of who owns the apartments in
question. Typically, resident and absentee owners
do not face the same constraints or act from the
The Canadian Geographer / Le G
eographe canadien 2017, xx(xx): 1–17
Secondary suites 13
same combination of motives, and thus will respond
in different ways to any particular mix of incentives
and sanctions. To be sure, most property owners
will welcome financial incentives, but tax breaks
might work better for some while grants or loans
might work better for others, while other policies—
for example, educational—might prove just as
effective. Municipalities, then, would surely wel-
come research that tells them more about who their
property owners are, and about how best to
motivate them. The latter would require survey
research, but decent answers to the former should
be readily available from a careful analysis of
property assessment records.
And then we must offer the usual plea for
research on places other than the major metropoli-
tan centres. Most of the research on suites, and
virtually all of the best, has focused on Toronto or
Vancouver. Directly or indirectly, it has responded
to local housing issues, for example the wave of
deconversions that passed through Toronto in the
early 1980s and the crisis of affordability that has
recently afflicted Vancouver. But suites play an
important role in every urban area, and not
necessarily in the same way that they do in the
largest centres. We do need to know more about the
experience of landlords, tenants, and municipalities
in the whole of urban Canada.
It is not difficult to understand why so many
important questions remain unanswered. It is enor-
mously difficult to mount useful research at the
national scale. Analyses using census data, in
combination with the results of the more frequent
CMHC rental surveys, can yield some useful infor-
mation, including approximate estimates of the
number of secondary suites in each place. But most
questions eitherrequire the use of existing local data,
such as property assessments and MLS records, or
the conduct of surveys and interviews which would
be expensive if undertaken across the country. And
then there is the challenge that local circumstances
are enormously varied, not just because of differ-
ences in incomes, immigrant streams, rent levels,
and mixtures of housing stock, but also because
municipal attitudes, regulations, and enforcement
practices differ from place to place. For this type of
housing, the interplay of market and state is
exceptionally complex, defying easy generalization
from case studyresearch. But if the challenge isgreat,
the reward—in terms of being able to say something
really new—is correspondingly large.
Acknowledgements
We would like to acknowledge the encouragement of members of
the Neighbourhood Change Research Partnership and the
support of the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council.
We would also like to thank Kathleen Qu for her research on
Mississauga, as well as Greg Suttor and three anonymous
reviewers for their helpful comments on an earlier draft.
References
Aaron, B. 2014. Agents on the hook for illegal in-law suites.
Toronto Star, October 3. https://www.thestar.com/life/
homes/2014/10/03/
agents_on_the_hook_for_illegal_inlaw_suites.html.
ACT (Affordability and Choice Today). 1999. How the district of
North Vancouver built community acceptance for the legaliza-
tion of secondary suites in single-family homes. ACT Case
Study. North Vancouver, BC: Community Planning, Building,
Land and By-Law Services Division of the District of North
Vancouver, British Columbia.
Agrawal, S. K. 2006. Housing adaptations. A study of Asian Indian
immigrants’homes in Toronto. Canadian Ethnic Studies 38(1):
117––130.
Apgar, W. C., and S. Norasimhan. 2008. Capital for small rental
properties. Preserving a vital housing resource. In Revisiting
rental housing. Policies, programs, and priorities, ed. N. P.
Retsinas and E. S. Belsky. Washington, DC: Brookings Institu-
tion, 277––299.
Arcturus Solutions. 2005. Individual landlord survey.Final
report. Ottawa, ON: Canada Mortgage and Housing
Corporation.
Baer, W. C. 1986. The shadow market in housing. Scientific
American 255(5): 29––35.
Bourne, L. 1981. The geography of housing. London, UK:
Arnold.
Brown, M. J., and T. Watkins. 2012. Understanding and appraising
properties with accessory dwelling units. Appraisal Journal
80(4): 297––309.
Bula, F. 2015. Vancouver policy to create rental housing brings
life to the laneways. Citiscope, December 11. http://citiscope.
org/story/2015/vancouver-policy-create-rental-housing-brings-
life-laneways.
Calgary Homeless Foundation. 2010. Facts about secondary
suites in Calgary. http://calgaryhomeless.com/wp-content/
uploads/2014/06/CHF-Secondary-Suite-Msgs-and-QA.pdf.
Cave, P. 1967. Residential change. A discussion of recent changes
in the Junction, West Toronto. MA thesis, Department of
Geography, University of Toronto.
Carter, T., and D. Vitiello. 2015. Immigrants, refugees and
housing. In The housing and economic experiences of immi-
grants in U.S. and Canadian cities, ed. C. Teixeira and W. Lei.
Toronto, ON: University of Toronto Press, 91––111.
Cheng, L.-S. 1980. Secondary suites. Housing resource or
problem, the Vancouver case. MA thesis, School of
Community and Regional Planning, University of British
Columbia.
City of Mississauga. 2014. Second unit information package.
Mississauga, ON: Transportation and Works Enforcement
Division. http://www6.mississauga.ca/onlinemaps/planbldg
/HousingChoices/SecondUnitInformationPKG.pdf.
The Canadian Geographer / Le G
eographe canadien 2017, xx(xx): 1–17
14 Richard Harris and Kathleen Kinsella
City of Toronto. 1986. Trends in housing occupancy. Research
Bulletin 26. Toronto, ON: City of Toronto Planning and
Development Department.
City of Vancouver. 2009. The role of secondary suites. Rental
housing strategy—Study 4. Vancouver, BC: Social Development
—Housing Policy Community Services Group.
CitySpaces Consulting Ltd. 2007. Calgary secondary suites study.
Calgary, AB: CitySpaces Consulting Ltd.
Clay, C. 2015. More and more basement apartment licenses being
issued. Mississauga News, May 26. https://www.mississauga.
com/news-story/5645494-more-and-more-basement-apart
ment-licences-being-issued/.
CMHC (Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation). 2014.
Accessory apartment regulations in Canadian census metro-
politan areas and census agglomerations. Research Highlight.
Socioeconomic Series 14-002. Ottawa, ON: CMHC
—— . 2015. Literature review and case studies of local jurisdic-
tions that permit secondary suites. Research Highlight. May.
Ottawa, ON: CMHC.
—— . 2016a. Census/national household survey housing series
Issue 11—the secondary rental market in Canada. Estimated
size and composition. Ottawa, ON: CMHC.
—— . 2016b. Detailed examination of municipal apartment
regulations in Canada. Ottawa, ON: CMHC.
—— . 2017. Ontario secondary suite research study. Ottawa, ON:
CMHC.
Damas and Smith Ltd. 1980. Residential conversion in Canada.
Ottawa, ON: Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation.
De Jong, C. 2014. Secondary and backyard suites policy and
other housing options. Revised report. Link no longer active;
last accessed March 2017. http://agendaminutes.calgary.ca/
sirepub/cache/2/r1s1iq3phhrjwnwt5bpo5t3u/31222008172
016054615719.PDF.
EKOS Research Associates. 1987. The impact of conversions on
neighbourhood property values. Toronto, ON: EKOS.
Ellen, I. G., and K. O’Regan. 2010. Gentrification. Perspec-
tives of economists and planners. In The Oxford handbook
of urban economics and planning,ed.N.Brookes,K.
Donaghy, and G.-J. Knaap. Oxford, UK: Oxford University
Press, 371––394.
Falkenhagen, D. 2001. The history of Canada’s Residential
Rehabilitation Assistance Program (RRAP). Ottawa, ON: Canada
Mortgage and Housing Corporation. http://publications.gc.ca/
collections/collection_2011/schl-cmhc/nh18-1/NH18-1-11-20
01-eng.pdf.
Fleming, J. 2015. Residential tenancies in Ontario,3
rd
ed. North
York, ON: LexisNexis Canada.
Freeman, L., and F. Braconi. 2004. Gentrification and displace-
ment. Journal of the American Planning Association 70(1):
39––52.
Friedman, A. 2001. The grow home. Montreal and Kingston:
McGill-Queen’s University Press.
Gilderbloom, J. I., and R. P. Appelbaum. 1988. Rethinking rental
housing. Philadelphia, PA: Temple University Press.
Goodbrand, P. T. 2016. Unauthorized secondary suites. An
analysis of the renter’s perspective. MA thesis, Department
of Sociology, University of Calgary.
Gordon, J. 1987. Hidden housing production. Residential conver-
sion activity in the City of Boston. PhD thesis, Department of
Urban Studies and Planning, MIT.
Hamilton Spectator. 1953a. Ban on duplexes illogical. March
3, 6.
—— . 1953b. Attacks ban on duplexes as ‘deplorable muddle’.
March 12, 40.
—— . 1953c. Hope to make zoning by-laws more flexible. June
12, 8.
Hardmann, A. 1996. Informal additions to the U.S. housing stock.
In Under one roof. Issues and innovations in shared housing, ed.
G. C. Hemmens, C. J. Hoch, and C. Carp. Albany, NY: SUNY
Press, 33––48.
Harris, R. 1992. The end justified the means. Boarding and
rooming in a city of homes, 1890––1951. Journal of Social
History 26(2): 331––358.
—— . 1994. The flexible house. The housing backlog and the
persistence of lodging. Social Science History 18(1): 31––53.
—— . 1996. Unplanned suburbs. Toronto’s American tragedy,
1900-1950. Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press.
—— . 2012. Ragged urchins play on marquetry floors. Filtering
grows up, 1920s––1950s. Housing Policy Debate 22(3):463––482.
—— . Forthcoming. Modes of informal urban development. A
global phenomenon. Journal of Planning Literature.
Hastings, A. 2000. Discourse analysis. What does it offer housing
studies? Housing Theory and Society 17(3): 131––139.
Hilton, A., L. Potvia, and I. Sachdev. 1989. Ethnic relations in
rental housing. A social psychological approach. Canadian
Journal of Behavioural Science 21: 121––131.
Hulchanski, J. D. 1982. Making better use of the existing housing
stock. A literature review. Toronto, ON: Ministry of Municipal
Affairs and Housing.
Infranca, J. 2014. Housing changing households. Regulatory
challenges for micro-units and accessory dwelling units.
Stanford Law and Policy Review 25: 53––90.
Kern, L. 2010. Sex and the revitalized city. Gender, condomin-
ium development, and urban citizenship.Vancouver,BC:
UBC Press.
Kirk, M. 2017. The push to build more ‘granny flats’.CityLab,
March 27.
Klein and Sears. 1983a. Study of residential intensification and
rental housing conservation. Part 1. Detailed summary of
findings and recommendations. Toronto, ON: Ontario Ministry
of Municipal Affairs and Housing, and Association of Munici-
palities of Ontario.
—— . 1983b. Study of residential intensification and rental housing
conservation. Part 3.4. Residential intensification and future
housing needs. Tenant demand. Toronto, ON: Ontario Ministry
of Municipal Affairs and Housing, and Association of Munici-
palities of Ontario.
—— . 1983c. Study of residential intensification and rental
housing conservation. Part 3.6. Residential intensification
and future housing needs. Municipal and provincial policies
and regulations. Toronto, ON: Ontario Ministry of Municipal
Affairs and Housing, and Association of Municipalities of
Ontario.
—— . 1983d. Study of residential intensification and rental housing
conservation. Part 5. Data sources and problems. Toronto, ON:
Ontario Ministry of Municipal Affairs and Housing, and
Association of Municipalities of Ontario.
Krohn, R., B. Fleming, and M. Manzer. 1977. The other economy.
The internal logic of local rental housing. Toronto, ON: Peter
Martin.
Landlord’s Self-Help Centre. 2016. Second Suite Information Hub.
http://www.secondsuites.info/
Le, J. 2016. Halton homeowners can get up to $50,000 to create
basement apartment. Hamilton Spectator, April 26. https://
The Canadian Geographer / Le G
eographe canadien 2017, xx(xx): 1–17
Secondary suites 15
www.thespec.com/news-story/6515435-halton-homeowners-
can-get-up-to-50-000-to-create-basement-apartment/.
Lehrer, K. 1991. The landlord as scapegoat. Vancouver, BC: Fraser
Institute.
Ley, D. 1996. The new middle class and the remaking of the central
city. Toronto: Oxford University Press.
Lipstein, B. 1956. The role of residential conversions in the
housing market. PhD dissertation, Department of Political
Economy, Columbia University.
Mahler, S. J. 1995. American dreaming. Immigrant life on the
margins. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
Mallach, A. 2007. Landlords at the margins. Exploring the
dynamics of the one to four unit rental housing industry.
Cambridge, MA: Joint Centre for Housing Research, Harvard
University.
McCann, L. D. 1972. Changing morphology of residential areas
in transition. PhD dissertation, Department of Geography,
University of Alberta.
McNeill, P. 1990. Landlording in Canada. A practical, business
and legal guide. Vancouver, BC: International Self-Counsel
Press.
Mendez, P. 2016. Professional experts and lay knowledge in
Vancouver’s accessory apartment rental market. Environment
and Planning A 48(11): 2223––2238.
Mendez, P., and N. Quastel. 2015. Subterranean commodification.
Informal housing and the legalization of basement suites in
Vancouver from 1928 to 2009. International Journal of Urban
and Regional Research 39(6): 1155––1171.
Morrison, P. 1978. Residential property conversion, subdivision,
merger, and quality changes in the inner city housing stock,
Metropolitan Toronto, 1958––1973. PhD dissertation, Depart-
ment of Geography, University of Toronto.
Mukhija, V. 2014. Outlaw in-laws. Informal second units and the
stealth reinvention of single-family housing. In The informal
American city, ed. V. M. Mukhija and A. Loukaitou-Sideris.
Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 39––57.
Murdie, R. A., and D. Northrup. 1990. Residential conversions in
Toronto. The availability of rental units in owner occupied
dwellings in the city of Toronto and owners’experience in the
rental market. Toronto, ON: Institute for Social Research, York
University.
Neuwirth, R. 2005. Shadow cities. A billion squatters, a new urban
world. New York, NY: Routledge.
Newman, L. H. 1982. A matter of managing an inner city resource.
MA thesis, School of Planning, University of Waterloo.
Ontario Ministry of Housing and Ministry of Municipal Affairs.
1992a. A consultation paper on legislative amendments to
allow one apartment in a house. Toronto, ON: Ministry of
Housing and Ministry of Municipal Affairs.
—— . 1992b. Apartmentsin houses. Somefacts and figures.Toronto,
ON: Ministry of Housing and Ministry of Municipal Affairs.
Peddie, R. 1978. Residential mobility, occupancy conversion and
neighbourhood change. PhD thesis, Department of Geogra-
phy, University of Toronto.
Porell, F. 1985. One man’s ceiling is another man’s floor.
Landlord/manager residency and housing condition. Land
Economics 61(2): 106––118.
Poulton, M. 1995. Affordable homes at an affordable (social)
price. In Home remedies. Rethinking Canadian housing policy,
ed. G. Fallis, M. Poulton, L. B. Smith, M. Seelig, J. Seelig, and J.
Sewell. Toronto, ON: CD Howe Institute, 50––122.
Regional District of Nanaimo. 2013. Secondary suites study.
Nanaimo, BC: Regional District of Nanaimo.
Rose, A. 1958. Regent Park. A study in slum clearance. Toronto,
ON: University of Toronto Press.
Rudel, T. 1984. Household change, accessory apartments, and
low income housing in suburbs. Professional Geographer
36(2): 174––181.
Ruud, M., and V. Nordvik. 1990. From the kitchen floor to the
basement—sharing arrangements in two centuries. Housing
Theory and Society 16(4): 192––200.
Shepherd, J. 2017. North Vancouver City council triples homes
per lot. North Shore News, February 28. http://www.nsnews.
com/news/north-vancouver-city-council-triples-homes-per-
lot-1.10625107.
SHS Inc. 2004. City of Toronto second suites (accessory apart-
ments) review. Toronto, ON: SHS Inc.
Skaburskis, A. 1991. Net changes in Canada’s post-war housing
stock. In House, home and community. Progress in housing
Canadians, 1945-1986, ed. J. Miron. Kingston and Montreal:
McGill-Queens University Press, 155––172.
Starr Group. 2000. Secondary rental market study. Final report
April 2000. Toronto, ON: Ontario Ministry of Municipal
Affairs and Housing and Canada Mortgage and Housing
Corporation.
Steele, M. 1993. Conversions, condominiums and capital gains.
The transformation of the Ontario rental housing market.
Urban Studies 30(1): 103––126.
Sternlieb, G. 1966. The tenement landlord. New Brunswick, NJ:
Center for Urban Policy Research, Rutgers University.
Suttor, G. 2016. Still renovating. A history of Canadian social
housing policy. Montreal and Kingston: McGill-Queen’s Univer-
sity Press.
Swedberg,R.2005.Marketsinsociety.InThe handbook
of economic sociology,2
nd
ed., ed. N. Smelser and
R. Swedberg. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press,
233–– 253.
Tananescu, A., E. C. Wing-tak, and A. Smart. 2010. Tops and
bottoms. State tolerance of illegal housing in Hong Kong and
Calgary. Habitat International 34(4): 478––484.
Touati, A. 2013. “Soft densification”in Canada. Translated by
Oliver Waine. Metropolitics, June 5. http://www.metropoli
tiques.eu/Soft-densification-in-Canada.html.
TRAC (Tenant Resource and Advisory Centre). 1996. Secondary
suites. A tenant survey. Vancouver, BC: TRAC.
Vancouver City Planning Department. 1986. Secondary suites in
RS-1 Areas. Report to City Council. Vancouver, BC: City of
Vancouver Planning Department.
Van Dongen, M. 2012. Rental licensing battle looms. Hamilton
Spectator, August 22. https://www.thespec.com/news-story/
2253729-rental-licensing-battle-looms/.
Vischer, J. 1987. The changing Canadian suburb. Plan Canada
27(5): 130––140.
Vischer Skaburskis. 1979a. Demolitions, conversions, abandon-
ments: Working Paper 1. Report for the CMHC. Vancouver, BC:
Vischer Skaburskis Planners.
—— . 1979b. Demolitions, conversions, abandonments: Working
Paper 3. Summary of findings. Report for the CMHC.
Vancouver, BC: Vischer Skaburskis Planners.
Ward, K., N. Singer, and V. Silzer. 1986. Meeting housing needs
through the existing rental stock. Toronto, ON: Social Planning
Council of Metropolitan Toronto.
The Canadian Geographer / Le G
eographe canadien 2017, xx(xx): 1–17
16 Richard Harris and Kathleen Kinsella
Wegmann, J. 2015. The hidden cityscapes of informal housing in
suburban Los Angeles and the paradox of horizontal density.
Buildings and Landscapes 22(2): 89––110.
Wegmann, J., and A. Nemirow. 2011. Secondary units and urban
infill. A literature review.WorkingPaper2011-02.Berkeley,
CA: Institute of Urban and Regional Development, University of
California, Berkeley. http://iurd.berkeley.edu/wp/2011-02.pdf.
Whitzman, C. 2009. Suburb, slum, urban village. Transformations
in Toronto’s Parkdale neighbourhood, 1875––2002. Vancouver,
BC: UBC Press.
The Canadian Geographer / Le G
eographe canadien 2017, xx(xx): 1–17
Secondary suites 17