As the new year begins, a familiar debate has resurfaced in Canadian political commentary: the fate of the crumbling official residence at 24 Sussex Drive in Ottawa. In a recent op-ed, columnist Colby Cosh pushes back against the growing sentiment that the deteriorating state of the building is a national embarrassment requiring immediate and expensive action.
The False Symbol of National Pride
Cosh takes direct aim at arguments, like those presented by former diplomat Chris Westdal, that frame the residence's condition as an insult to Canada. Westdal posed the rhetorical question: "Is there any other state on earth that has or would let the residence of its leader fall to vermin?" Cosh counters this by pointing to the well-known rodent issues at 10 Downing Street in the United Kingdom and notes that some peer nations, including Ireland and Switzerland, do not provide an official residence for their head of government at all.
The columnist challenges the very idea that 24 Sussex remains an iconic national symbol. He argues that the practice of using "24 Sussex" as a journalistic metonym for prime ministerial power has largely faded, replaced by references to the PMO (Prime Minister's Office). "If we joined hands on a journalistic street mission and asked some ordinary Canadians to draw 24 Sussex from memory, how does he suppose they would do?" Cosh asks, questioning the building's enduring place in the public consciousness.
A Question of Priorities and Practicality
Cosh frames the discussion within a broader context of Canada's stated goals to improve state capacity and build infrastructure. While he wryly notes it might be nice if any level of government in Ontario could demonstrate an ability to create new housing, he is skeptical that a prime ministerial residence should be the flagship project.
The prime minister already has access to two other official residences: the 16-room retreat at Harrington Lake and the current temporary home at Rideau Cottage. Investing heavily in a third, argues Cosh, seems a misallocation of resources. He also correctly shifts blame away from voters and toward the bureaucratic processes of the National Capital Commission (NCC), which manages the property, and the building's own questionable original construction quality.
Looking Beyond the Emotional Appeal
The core of Cosh's argument is a call for pragmatism over patriotism. He acknowledges that Westdal writes about the issue with flair but ultimately sees it as a "pseudoproblem." The plea to rebuild for national pride, in this view, overlooks more pressing national needs and more cost-effective solutions for housing the country's leader.
The column, published on January 3, 2026, serves as a contrarian take as the new political year gets underway. It questions whether the campaign to restore 24 Sussex will gain real traction or remain a perennial topic for op-ed pages. Cosh's conclusion is succinctly summarized in his own words directed at the pro-rebuild sentiment: "Come off it, bro."
