That changed on Thursday when their secret strategy to demolish the Prime Minister’s residence at 24 Sussex Dr became clear. Even declaring the kitchen a fire hazard and health hazard to continue service, the very kitchen where Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, his family and guests were served remotely for seven years, the NCC officially gutted the estate and nailed an unofficial demolition order at the gates. This is not a sad development. Having been inside the venue for a number of media functions, I can say that there is no room on the main floor that would elicit a gasp from even the most easily impressed visitor. It reeks of shabby 150 year old interior design now served by the complete failure of the heating, cooling and ventilation systems. This week’s shutdown order appears to be the culmination of a seven-year case-making effort to ensure that even historical romantics, who strongly envision the prime minister’s residence as some kind of cost-saving shrine, will see preservation. effort as futile. The NCC plan was first conceived in 2015 when they finally found a prime minister who would refuse to move. Justin Trudeau, who could claim inside knowledge of the house as a nursery school coming home from the hospital, declared it unsuitable for his family’s safe abode and moved down the road to “Rideau Cottage” on the Governor General’s sprawling estate . reasons. The commission then issued a report detailing in painful detail how 24 Sussex is the money pit from hell and an architectural disaster. There were no accessible toilets for guests, the kitchen was inadequate for formal functions and “the dining room is both large for a family and too small for state or formal dinners”. Layered on top of the basic design flaws were fire hazards everywhere, chronic plumbing failures and a lack of air conditioning, not to mention asbestos, lead and mold throughout the interior. Then came the impressive price. The essentials alone will cost $36 million, excluding the new pool house, updated security and measures to meet the building’s modern requirements, which, given the inflation of traditional government contracts, likely means a $100 million rebuild. So after plowing through $5.4 million in basic maintenance over the past twelve years, the NCC unleashed the genius part of their plan: Do nothing. After seven years of skeleton ownership, the completely empty mansion will now await spring when crews will move in to remove “antiquated systems and infrastructure,” including asbestos, heating and electrical systems. This sounds a lot more like a pre-demolition than a late-start rehab. And so, give NCC credit for what it does best. They let Father Time do his dirty work in the increasingly dilapidated mansion, and now it’s time to declare mission accomplished. All that’s missing is some polls showing that the public has lost interest in rescuing the wrong, and a fleet of bulldozers can be fired up and fix the problem in a matter of weeks. Of course, demolition would come with the political headache of building a replacement. It could be a relatively simple matter to evict the British High Commissioner from the near Earnscliffe estate. At least this mansion has Canadian historical significance as the home of Sir John A. Macdonald and the place where he died. But if diplomatic culture prevents such a move, surely it is time to build a large, if not grand, residence with space for official functions to last for the next five decades or so. It obviously doesn’t have to match the real estate standards of other G7 leaders, such as the German Chancellor’s 694,000-square-foot White House or Italy’s presidential residence in one of the world’s grandest palaces. But regardless of what you think of Trudeau and his hotel tastes when he travels abroad, Canadian prime ministers should not be housed as tenants in a “cottage” officially used by the viceroy’s top aide. So keep 24 Sussex Drive, leave the house and be thankful. Whatever goes up again on this excellent riverfront lot will be much cheaper and no doubt better than fixing up the residential wreck that sits there now. That’s the bottom line.
