Comment
Precedent
In the 1990s, I worked from rented offices at 99 Sudbury Street in Toronto. It’s cool now. Hip and urbane. It wasn’t then. It was more Parkdale—petty crime and drugdealing violence—than Queen Street West. That sensibility was still a mile or two east of Dufferin. The Drake hadn’t yet arrived, nor were there any funky shops. Mostly small industrial warehouses long ago abandoned for the latenight rave crowd and illicit transactions.
I would walk over a couple of times a week to Mr. Sub at Queen and Dufferin, in the shadow of the elevated railway tracks. The sandwich shop sat across the lane from a donut shop populated almost exclusively by working girls (and boys) and beat cops. It didn’t feel particularly unsafe. After all, it was noon. Broad daylight.
My route passed the Gladstone Hotel. It was a dive bar then. The remnants of a once-grand railway hotel were faintly visible from the outside, but you had to squint really hard to see them. Besides, in this neighbourhood, you mostly looked straight ahead, avoiding eye contact.
One day, returning to my desk, I noticed a naked man exiting the Gladstone front door and trundling down the steps to the street. Not a regular thing, even this far down Queen. Then I saw the syringe still stuck in his arm. This was the Gladstone Hotel then.
Today, the Gladstone Hotel has been restored to its 19th-century majesty. The original plaster moulding still adorns the grand hallways. It is now a vibrant, art-focused boutique hotel described as “historic meets modern, innovation and forward thinking— the beating heart of Queen West”.
The Zeidler family acquired full ownership of the building in 2003 and began restoration in 2004. Eb Zeidler had designed an impressive roster of iconic structures over his career. The Gladstone purchase was different. It was about restoring magnificence. It was about family. Zeidler’s daughters, Christina and Margie, managed the operations.
Under their stewardship, the Gladstone became a multi-purpose event space, presenting art festivals, book launches, gallery shows, live music and dance parties. It hosted festivals such as Come Up To My Room, which saw artists and designers take over individual rooms, spanning multiple floors. It remains an annual three-day alternative design exhibition.
The Zeidler family sold the hotel in 2020, insisting the new owners continue the hotel’s cultural and heritage focus.
Today, Christina Zeidler is seeking to do something similar with the Wellington Town Hall. Last week Council agreed to let them try. (See story page 3)
Some worry that Council’s decision will make it harder to sell its other underused, capital-devouring buildings. That other community groups will cite the Wellington Town Hall as a precedent.
I hope they do.
For all its failed attempts to dispose of some of its 90-some buildings, Council has accidentally landed upon a workable formula.
Sell the town halls for a dollar. This column made this argument in 2022. I repeat it today.
Put the town halls into community hands—to folks who can and will invest in restoring them. Give these buildings to a community group with a sensible plan, championed by folks with a track record.
Examine the plan. Validate the track record. Then get the buildings into the hands of folks who will return them to community spaces.
It is the precedent being set in Wellington. It isn’t wishful thinking. It isn’t aimless sentimentality. It isn’t folks wanting something just because they want it. Or dream of something entirely improbable and impractical.
The Wellington Town Hall Foundation is a worthy proposal submitted by folks who have a proven track record of doing big things. It is a critical distinction.
Furthermore, this precedent also has a time fuse. If it doesn’t work, the hall reverts to the municipality. All that is lost is a year. Meanwhile, the wheels have been put in motion. A resolution, one way or another, will be forthcoming.
Remember, the County’s town halls were initially built, maintained, and operated within the communities they reside. These communities funded them. They fell into disuse and disrepair after amalgamation, in the hands of an overstretched municipality that could no longer care for them. Didn’t know how.
It is long past time we found a way to return these places to their communities. The Wellington Town Hall Foundation, led by Christina Zeidler, has shown how to do it.
The County carries many things on its books as “Assets” which are “assets” in name only.
In this day and age, there are few “assets” that actually go up in value over time. Most go down.
The measure of the extent to which asset values go down, is called “Depreciation”.
The County depreciates assets in an unrealistic way in many ways. You don’t need an MBA to check this. Look at the most recent Audited Financial Statements (year ended Dec 31, 2024) at this link –> https://www.thecounty.ca/wp-content/uploads/2025/09/Consolidated-Financial-Statements-2024.pdf
Starting on Page 12, the note states
“Tangible capital assets are recorded at cost, which includes all amounts that are directly
attributable to acquisition, construction, development or betterment of the asset. The cost,
of the tangible capital assets is amortized on a straight-line basis over their estimated
useful lives as follows: ”
“Asset —> Useful Life – Years
Land improvements –> 20 to 40
Buildings –> 20 to 50
Leasehold improvements –> 10
Vehicles –> 5 to 20
Computer hardware and software –> 5 to 10
Equipment –> 5 to 30
Plant and facilities –> 20 to 50
Roads –> 5 to 50
Underground and other networks –> 15 to 80
Bridges and other structures –> 40 to 75
The amount of depreciation that the CFO attributes to any “asset” in any given year depends on which number they choose within that stated range. So, for buildings, it doesn’t take an MBA to see that if you choose 50 years, the annual depreciation will be MUCH less than if you choose 20 years.
Hypothetically, a creative CFO, at the direction of the CAO and a Mayor, can choose to use a number within the stated range, that suits their purposes. The auditors could care less whether or not the chosen number is realistic. That’s outside the scope of their job. (It’s Council’s Job, by the way, to hold Staff’s feet to the fire in terms of a realistic number.)
Why would Staff wish to choose the higher end of the range? Because, the annual depreciation (which is an Expense) will be much smaller. This gives at least two false impressions:
1) That the value of the “asset” remaining is higher than perhaps reality would suggest; and
2) That the “Net Loss” for the County for the period would be less than if a more realistic choice were made.
But wait — there’s more.
As the Financial Statements notes says: “Tangible capital assets are recorded at cost, which includes all amounts that are directly attributable to acquisition, construction, development or betterment of the asset.”
What does this mean? It means, that after the “asset” was purchased, any amounts spent on that asset regarding the “… construction, development or betterment of the asset” ALSO get depreciated over the chosen time frame.
So, if the County spent $10,000 on renovations in a year for any building, and 50 years was chosen as the time horizon number, only $200 of those renovations ($10,000 / 50) would be expensed. And depending on when the renovations were actually processed, it could even be almost zero. (if, for example, the bills for the renovations were processed right at the end of the period.)
What does all this mean?
At best, it means that it is impossible to know what the true, realistic values of the County’s “assets” actually are.
At worst, it means that the value shown is actually wildly over-estimated, which means that the County’s dismal NEGATIVE NET WORTH, as bad as it is, is actually even worse.