Neglect of public spaces reflects City’s disregard for quality of life
Jennifer Cavanagh
Many dream of urban neighbourhoods that are clean, green and vibrant. Having spent 15 years in London as well as time in Bern, Switzerland, I experienced quite the culture shock when moving to Ottawa. I was surprised to find a city struggling with visible homelessness, littered streets, and public spaces that felt neglected.
What strikes me most is not simply the existence of these problems, but the choices that seem to perpetuate them. While the City requires residents to hide garbage bins from view, it appears less willing to invest in the basic services that keep neighbourhoods clean and vulnerable neighbours safe. Street sweepers, for example, could maintain public spaces while also creating accessible entry-level employment opportunities. Instead, litter accumulates on sidewalks, particularly on garbage collection days, sending a message that disorder is something we should tolerate, rather than address.
The same pattern emerges in how we approach housing and development. As renovictions increase and homelessness becomes more visible, public frustration is often directed at those living in parks and on sidewalks. Yet far less attention is paid to the policies and decisions that contribute to these conditions in the first place. The contrast between how vulnerable residents are treated and the leniency granted to private development interests is difficult to ignore.
A small but telling example can be found on Wilbrod Street, across from a school, where a sidewalk and bike lane have been surrendered to a private construction project for more than a year. Space that belongs to all of us, paid for and maintained through public funds, has been a parking lot, storage yard, an office, and even a washroom for a private builder. It is remarkable that a developer can occupy public infrastructure for such an extended period while pedestrians, cyclists, and school children are expected to simply adapt.
What makes this even more frustrating is that another construction project had only recently been completed a block away. When the ensuing damage to the sidewalk there was finally repaired, the incorrectly installed drainage caused flooding until a resident (cough, cough) raised the issue and pushed for it to be corrected. The public seems expected to accept inconvenience, reduced access, and substandard work as the cost of doing business.
I’m tired of the growing ugliness in our public realm and suspect I’m not alone. There is a connection between physical neglect and social neglect.
When litter accumulates, sidewalks disappear for years at a time, bike lanes are treated as expendable, and public spaces are allowed to deteriorate, the message is clear: expect less. At the same time, public frustration is too often directed toward those with the least power, while those making the decisions that shape our city escape similar scrutiny.
The condition of a city’s sidewalks may seem far removed from homelessness, housing insecurity, or social services, but they are connected by a common thread: priorities. A city willing to accept deteriorating public spaces, inaccessible infrastructure, and declining civic services is a city that struggles to harness the political will to address deeper social challenges as well. Neglect rarely exists in isolation.
A city reveals its values through its priorities. When public spaces are routinely sacrificed for private interests while homelessness, affordability, cleanliness, and accessibility receive inadequate attention, the message is clear: the convenience of powerful interests matters more than the quality of life experienced by ordinary residents.
A truly compassionate city invests in both the public realm and the people who rely on it. These investments reinforce one another. Well-maintained public spaces, accessible infrastructure, and strong social supports are expressions of civic commitment and community care. Everyone deserves to live in a city that is cared for and that cares in return
A city that cares for its people cares for its places, and vice versa. An attractive city and a compassionate city are not competing ideals; rather, they are inseparable.

Photo: Jennifer Cavanagh