I recently had a conversation with a local resident who, by their own admission, is a NIMBY (Not In My Backyard). They were upset about a recent affordable housing project that was rejected by city council and took issue with my column about it. I won’t name them—this isn’t about one person. It’s about a pattern. A way of thinking that keeps Sarnia stuck.
NIMBYism is never a hard "no" to affordable housing. It’s always a soft, well-intentioned refusal. “We support affordable housing, just not here.” “We just want to make sure it’s the right fit.” “We need more consultation.” The arguments are always framed as reasonable concerns, but the outcome is the same: nothing gets built. And Sarnia’s housing crisis deepens.
This particular resident argued that no one in their neighbourhood is against affordable housing, just this project. The Inn, they claimed, couldn’t be trusted. The County, they said, had already ruined the neighbourhood. The project was “too big,” “out of place,” and would have “stood out like a sore thumb” for 25 years.
What does that actually mean? Affordable housing is always accused of being “too much.” Too many units. Too much density. Too much risk. Too many of the “wrong” people. And yet, the alternative is never offered. What would be an acceptable amount? One unit? Two? Built where? Who gets to live there? How would they be selected? These questions never get answered, because the goal isn’t to make the project work—it’s to kill it entirely.
Then, of course, came the conditions. They might have been okay with it, they said, if the County guaranteed “no active drug users.” This is a familiar line—housing is fine as long as we get to gatekeep who deserves it. But housing isn’t a privilege. It’s a necessity. If you care about public safety, if you care about drug use, then stable housing is one of the most effective harm reduction strategies we have. Cities that embrace inclusionary housing policies see fewer issues, not more. The places that cave to NIMBYs see worsening homelessness, crime, and disorder.
Finally, the last NIMBY tactic: suggesting it be built somewhere else. “I’m sure there’s some available land near you,” they wrote. This is always where these conversations land. The people opposing these projects don’t actually believe they should be stopped. They just believe it’s someone else’s responsibility. And when every neighborhood thinks that way, nothing gets built anywhere.
This is why city councillors must ignore NIMBY voices. Politicians are literally elected to do that. We don’t need to “hear both sides” on whether people deserve a place to live. We don’t need to cater to fear-based opposition that will never be satisfied. We need elected officials with the courage to act in the best interest of the whole city—not just the loudest voices in a single neighborhood.
We’re at a tipping point in Sarnia. Housing is scarce, rents are skyrocketing, and the people who work here can’t afford to live here. If we let NIMBYs dictate our housing policy, we will become a city where only the privileged can afford to stay. And once we reach that point, there’s no coming back.
The choice is clear. We either build, or we wither. Our councillors need to decide which future they want.