A series of recent shocks — from tariff threats to rising food costs — has exposed just how dependent we are on systems we don’t control. If we want a stronger, more resilient food economy, we need to rethink not just policy, but how we live.
Four years ago, we stepped in to save the Cabbagetown Farmers Market — an important community asset in the heart of Toronto. We didn’t expect that decision to connect us so directly to the larger story of food sovereignty in Canada — or to the invisible systems that shape what we grow, eat, and value.
Since then, we’ve worked alongside small-scale producers, local food advocates, and urban consumers navigating the weekly push and pull of fresh produce, rising costs, and supply limitations. And we’ve seen firsthand just how fragile our food ecosystem really is.
Rising costs and unpredictable weather are only part of the challenge. Canada’s agricultural supply management system — which ensures price stability and fair access for local farmers — is also under pressure. Weakening that system would tip the balance toward massive U.S. producers and put many Canadian farms at risk.
But policy alone won’t fix how we live with food.
Even with protections in place, local producers still struggle. Not because their food isn’t good or fairly priced — but because our homes and habits aren’t built to support buying at scale, storing for later, or planning around seasonal abundance.
That’s not a policy issue. It’s a design issue.
Why design matters
Even when people believe in buying local — even when they say they want to support small producers — their behaviour often tells a different story.
Why?
Because our homes, habits and infrastructure aren’t designed to make the right thing easy.
The local paradox
There’s a window — a moment in the growing season — when local food isn’t just better. It’s cheaper. Apples, carrots, beets, garlic, onions, green beans — at peak harvest, prices drop and quality peaks. But we don’t fully take advantage.
We buy for the week. We lack proper storage. And we revert to global supply chains the moment fresh local options fade.
It’s not because people don’t care. It’s because we haven’t made caring convenient.
The solution is hiding in plain sight
Talk to any older Canadian, and they’ll remember: root cellars, cold rooms, preserving pantries. These weren’t luxuries. They were standard. Strategic. And they worked.
Today, our homes make room for soaker tubs, walk-in closets, and entertainment walls — but not for food storage that supports health, security, or self-reliance.
It’s time to change that.
If we want local food to be more than a seasonal indulgence, we need to design for it:
- Reintroduce cold rooms into urban homes and condo developments
- Normalize food preservation and storage as practical, not nostalgic
- Treat pantries as essential design features — not afterthoughts
These spaces don’t just store food. They spark awareness.
A new homeowner stepping into a cold room for the first time might ask: What’s this for? And in that moment, a deeper conversation can begin — about seasonality, preservation, and the value of eating closer to home.
Designing for food resilience is also designing for food literacy. These quiet spaces are prompts — permanent, practical reminders of our connection to food, and the role each of us can play in strengthening local systems, year-round.
This is design as public health. Design as sovereignty. Design as a signal of what we value.
Connecting through shared values
Few real estate developers have a reputation for putting people first. Across Canada, trust in the industry is low — many view it as opportunistic, even exploitative, especially in cities where affordability and access are daily concerns.
But that reputation can change — if the industry chooses to lead, not just build.
Designing for food resilience may not be the flashiest amenity, but it’s one of the most meaningful. Cold rooms, large pantries, and better storage aren’t just features — they’re signals. They show respect for local food systems, care for the people who live in these homes, and a willingness to prioritize long-term value over short-term marketing.
If developers want to be seen as community builders — not just capital movers — this is where to start.
A systems challenge rooted in behaviour
Too often, we frame food sustainability as a moral choice or economic preference — not a structural problem. We talk about what people should do, without considering the spaces and systems that shape those choices.
We can’t solve food insecurity one pantry at a time — but we can begin by making food-resilient design the rule, not the exception.
Behavioural economics tells us clearly: people default to what’s easy. So let’s make the right thing easier.
Let’s treat food resilience as a design problem, not just a policy challenge. And let’s start with the spaces we live in.
Because sovereignty doesn’t start at the checkout line—it starts with where we live, what we value, and the spaces we make room for.
Developers, architects, and city-builders: the blueprint for local food security is right in front of us. The only question is whether we’ll act on it.
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David Doze is the founder of Pilot, a Canadian strategy and design agency focused on helping organizations compete more clearly and connect more deeply. The Pilot team partners with organizations navigating complex change or market friction— helping them find alignment, momentum, and better days.