If Vancouver Repeats 2001, Here’s What 2026–2031 Could Look Like: A Dark Forecast From Someone Who Lived the Consequences
When I look at the 2026 Vancouver budget — the cuts, the tax freeze, the $50 million boost to police, and the slashing of arts, culture, sustainability, planning, and community services — I feel something in my chest that I can only describe as old fear waking up.
Because I lived through 2001.
I lived through the aftermath of Gordon Campbell’s cuts.
And when I say Vancouver is going dark, it’s not a metaphor.
It’s a memory.
If we follow the same path again, here’s what the next five years could look like.
Not imaginary.
Not exaggerated.
Based on what actually happened before.
1. Community Programs Will Vanish — Quietly, One by One
At first it happens slowly.
A program “temporarily paused.”
A centre “reducing hours.”
A long-running community grant “not renewed.”
A recreation class suddenly “not offered this season.”
Then the closures accelerate.
Art programs disappear.
Sustainability workshops end.
Youth mentorship programs vanish.
Neighbourhood groups disband because their funding evaporates.
Community support workers burn out and quit.
This is exactly what happened after 2001.
Without these programs, people lose connection, skills, safety, hope.
And it will be blamed on “low turnout” or “budget realities,” not the cuts that caused it.
2. Housing Will Get Worse — Much Worse
Cut the planning and sustainability departments and you cut the very people who:
- Fast-track affordable housing
- Negotiate with developers
- Enforce tenant protections
- Plan density and transportation
- Oversee climate-adapted building codes
What happened last time?
- Development became developer-driven
- Affordability plummeted
- Homelessness skyrocketed
- Evictions increased
- The safety net shrank
If we repeat this, Vancouver will become even more unaffordable for ordinary people — while luxury towers keep rising.
3. Poverty Will Deepen — Out of Sight, Until It Isn’t
You can’t cut community services without amplifying poverty.
After 2001, we saw:
- More people couch-surfing
- More people entering survival sex work
- More families relying on food banks
- Seniors quietly choosing between rent and groceries
- Disabled people slipping into crisis
- Young people falling through cracks no one was paid to fill
We are setting the stage for that again.
This time, with the housing crisis and inflation, it could be even worse.
4. Policing Will Expand Into Spaces That Used to Belong to Community
When you remove social supports and add police funding, enforcement fills the vacuum.
It happened in 2001 and 2002.
It happened in the DTES.
It happened in small towns.
It happened everywhere services were cut.
Expect more:
- Street sweeps
- Bylaw enforcement against the poor
- Ticketing instead of social support
- Over-policing of youth and racialized people
- Criminalization of poverty
More police doesn’t make a city healthier.
It only makes it harder to hide the suffering that cuts create.
5. The Creative Heart of Vancouver Will Start to Die
Cut arts & culture and you lose:
- Festivals
- Local art spaces
- Grants for emerging creators
- Community theatre
- Neighbourhood art studios
- Music programs for youth
- Murals and cultural projects
Without these, the soul of a city dries up.
After 2001, BC lost countless artists, teachers, dancers, performers — people who fed our cultural life. Many left the province entirely.
If these cuts stay, we will lose another entire generation of creators.
6. The City Will Become Colder, Meaner, and More Isolated
When you strip away the social fabric — community centres, programs, cultural events, youth activities, sustainability workshops — what’s left?
People stay home.
People disconnect.
People stop knowing their neighbours.
Fear replaces community.
Survival replaces participation.
Bus stops feel unsafe.
The streets feel different.
The city feels smaller, darker, angrier.
This is exactly what I remember from the early 2000s.
And it terrifies me to think we’re willingly walking back into it.
7. Mental Health Crises Will Rise — And No One Will Be Paid to Catch People
In 2001, mental health funding was gutted.
People who needed care didn’t get it.
Families struggled in silence.
Suicide rates rose.
Hospital ERs became the default mental-health system.
Police became the responders of last resort.
Now, in 2026, Vancouver is eliminating sustainability and community support roles — the very people who help keep vulnerable residents stable.
The result?
Crisis after crisis, without a safety net.
8. Vancouver Will Get More Expensive While Feeling More Broken
Ironically, a tax freeze doesn’t make a city cheaper to live in.
Cuts do not lower your rent.
Cuts do not make groceries cheaper.
Cuts do not reduce transit costs.
Cuts do not stabilize hydro rates.
Cuts do not protect you from inflation.
Cuts only erode the public supports that keep your private life viable.
In 2001, BC became harder, not easier, to survive in.
The same will happen again.
9. Inequality Will Explode — And Everyone Will Pretend It’s Inevitable
Austerity politics always benefits the wealthy and harms the vulnerable.
After 2001, BC’s richest residents thrived.
Everyone else struggled, sometimes for decades.
The same groups will be harmed now:
- Poor people
- Seniors
- Disabled people
- Indigenous people
- Youth
- Renters
- Single parents
- Low-income workers
- Anyone who relies on community supports
The wealth gap will widen.
The middle class will shrink again.
People will blame the victims, not the policies.
10. Five Years From Now, We Will Ask: How Did Vancouver Get So Dark?
And the answer will be simple:
Because we cut everything that made the city bright.
We cut creativity.
We cut compassion.
We cut community.
We cut support.
We cut resilience.
We cut climate progress.
We cut connection.
We cut the things that help humans flourish.
And we added police.
Just like in 2001.
This isn’t fearmongering. This is memory.
I lived the consequences last time.
Many of us did.
We carry the scars.
That’s why this budget terrifies me.
Because I know how quickly a city can dim.
I know how quickly people can fall.
I know how easily support networks can be wiped out.
I know how hard it is to rebuild them.
And I don’t want to watch Vancouver go dark again.
Not now.
Not with everything we’ve already survived.
Not when people are already struggling.
Not when the stakes are higher than ever.
We deserve better.
We remember better.
And we can demand better — before the lights go out again.