By Saeed Vahid

I’ve lived in Richmond Hill for more than two decades. During that entire time, the subway has always seemed to be just around the corner.

I’ve watched people get excited about it, including many who rarely use transit themselves. But those who commute regularly know that travelling between cities every day—whether by subway, train, or car—is exhausting. The promise of a faster trip to Toronto may sound appealing, but it doesn’t change the reality that a long commute is still a long commute.

Richmond Hill should stop defining success as making it easier to get to Toronto and start defining success as becoming a stronger city in its own right.

For the first ten years I lived in Richmond Hill, I commuted to Toronto for work. Like many residents, I spent hours each week travelling back and forth. It was tiring, stressful, and time-consuming.

Then I found an opportunity closer to home.

The difference was immediate. I gained time with my family. I spent less time sitting in traffic or waiting for transit. I spent more of my money locally. Most importantly, I began to see Richmond Hill differently—not as a bedroom community connected to Toronto, but as a city in its own right.

That experience changed how I think about transportation investments. Richmond Hill should not define success by how efficiently it can send workers somewhere else every morning. We should be asking how to make Richmond Hill itself more productive, prosperous, and complete.

Every dollar invested in helping residents reach jobs in Toronto is a dollar not invested in creating opportunities closer to home. A city that generates more employment locally reduces the need for long commutes altogether.

Yet for more than twenty years, Richmond Hill residents have been hearing the same promise: the subway is coming.

Generation after generation of politicians have pointed to the extension of TTC Line 1 as the solution to congestion, the key to economic growth, and proof that Richmond Hill is finally joining the ranks of Toronto’s transit-connected communities.

Now, after years of planning, announcements, environmental assessments, and political speeches, Metrolinx is warning that even the current timeline may be delayed. There is no clear delivery date. Residents who were told the subway was just around the corner two decades ago may be waiting even longer.

The reaction is predictable. Frustration. Disappointment. Anger. This anger was very clear in a social media post by Mayor West after the news was broken by the Toronto Star. Mayor David West posted on Instagram and X, saying the Toronto Star reported the Yonge North Subway Extension “could potentially be delayed,” and that he would investigate because Metrolinx had not yet advised Richmond Hill of any changed timelines. He also said any delay would be “totally unacceptable.”

At some point, after enough delays, it becomes reasonable to ask a question that would have sounded heretical a decade ago:

What if Richmond Hill is waiting for the wrong transit project?

I am not against transit. Quite the opposite. But supporting transit and supporting every transit project are not the same thing.

If we are honest, many of the people most excited about the subway extension are not regular transit users. They are not people standing at bus stops in January or trying to get to work without a car. They are homeowners, investors, and developers who expect the subway to increase property values.

There is nothing wrong with wanting your home to appreciate in value. Most homeowners do. But that is very different from arguing that the project is the best transportation investment for the region.

I believe the subway extension is a poor transportation investment for Richmond Hill. Not because transit is unimportant, but because the same money could likely deliver far greater benefits if invested differently.

What makes the debate even more frustrating is that Richmond Hill already has a rapid transit connection to downtown Toronto.

The Richmond Hill GO line already links our city to Union Station, with stops in Toronto along the way. Billions of dollars have already been invested in GO Transit infrastructure across the region. Yet the Richmond Hill line continues to function largely as a commuter service, carrying people south in the morning and north in the evening. Outside those peak periods, service is limited or replaced by infrequent buses.

Before spending billions more on another transit megaproject, shouldn’t we first ask whether we are getting the most value from the transit infrastructure we already have?

Transportation should move more people with less infrastructure, not more infrastructure to move the same people.

None of this is to suggest that regional transit is unimportant. Tens of thousands of Richmond Hill residents still travel to Toronto every day for work, education, appointments, and entertainment. They deserve reliable transit options.

If regional transit matters, then we should focus on improving the services that already connect Richmond Hill to the rest of the region. More frequent GO train service. Better GO bus service outside rush hour. Better local transit connections to existing stations. These improvements could benefit commuters far sooner than a subway project that remains years—or perhaps decades—away.

If frequent all-day GO service existed today, if GO buses arrived often enough to be useful throughout the day, and if local transit connected seamlessly to those services, Richmond Hill residents would gain meaningful mobility long before the first subway tunnel is completed.

Instead, we continue to place our hopes on a project that grows more expensive and more distant with each passing year.

Supporters of the extension often point to the development that will follow. They are probably right.

The Langstaff area will almost certainly see significant growth. Towers will rise. Thousands of new residents will move in. The skyline will change dramatically.

But growth alone is not success.

What kind of neighbourhood are we actually building?

The plans envision clusters of high-rise buildings surrounded by wide roads carrying large volumes of traffic. Residents may live beside a subway station, yet still find themselves navigating an environment designed primarily around moving cars efficiently through the area.

That is not the same thing as creating a walkable neighbourhood.

A truly walkable district is not defined by the height of its buildings. It is defined by the quality of its streets. Can children safely walk to school? Can seniors comfortably cross the road? Can residents bike to daily destinations without feeling endangered? Are local businesses integrated into the community rather than separated by vast distances and busy intersections?

Unfortunately, North America has a long history of building transit-oriented developments that are transit-oriented on paper but remain car-oriented in practice. A subway station surrounded by towers does not automatically create an urban neighbourhood people want to spend time in.

And that is where the current vision begins to fall short.

For all the discussion about transit-oriented development, it is difficult to see how the Langstaff area will become the kind of adaptable neighbourhood that cities need in the twenty-first century.

Where are the corner stores woven into residential streets?

Where are the traditional main streets lined with independent businesses?

Where are the small apartment buildings mixed into existing neighbourhoods?

Where are the comfortable walkable nodes surrounding stations that invite people to linger rather than simply pass through?

What we appear to be building instead is a collection of towers connected by wide roads and expensive infrastructure. It may be denser than what exists today, but density alone does not create resilience.

A resilient city is one that can evolve gradually over time. It is built through hundreds of small investments made by thousands of people. It grows incrementally. It adapts. It changes course when necessary.

A subway extension and the massive development that accompanies it push us in the opposite direction. They require enormous upfront commitments, leave little room for adjustment, and lock future generations into maintaining costly infrastructure whether conditions change or not.

This is why I remain skeptical.

The subway extension is an extraordinarily expensive project. It will require substantial public subsidies. It will create significant future maintenance obligations. And after two decades of political announcements and ceremonial promises, it increasingly feels like a prestige project whose symbolic value may exceed its practical value.

Meanwhile, there are dozens of smaller investments that could improve transportation for residents today.

More frequent buses.

Bus rapid transit.

Better local transit connections.

Safer walking routes to schools, parks, and shopping areas.

Protected cycling infrastructure.

Incremental improvements to existing transit services.

Financially sustainable operations that can be expanded gradually as demand grows.

None of these ideas generate the excitement of a subway announcement. Few politicians cut ribbons for increased bus frequency.

But if our goal is moving people efficiently, improving daily life, and building a financially resilient city, these investments may deliver far more value per dollar than a project that remains perpetually years away.

After twenty years of delays, rising costs, and shifting timelines, I am no longer convinced the subway extension is the transportation project Richmond Hill needs most. I believe Richmond Hill should stop measuring progress by how close the subway is.

We should measure it by whether residents can move around our city safely, affordably, and conveniently today. We should measure it by whether more people can live, work, shop, and spend time in Richmond Hill without needing to travel somewhere else.

A stronger Richmond Hill will not be built by making it easier to leave. It will be built by making it a place where more people can build their lives in the first place.