The latest federal budget landed with the usual political fanfare last month, but as I walked through Byward Market speaking with Ottawa locals, a consistent sentiment emerged. “Where’s the focus on actual people?” asked Maria Gonzalez, a small business owner who has weathered economic turbulence for three years straight.
This question reflects growing concerns among Canadians that traditional economic metrics aren’t capturing what truly matters in our daily lives. With rising housing costs, mental health challenges, and environmental anxieties dominating kitchen table conversations, many policy experts are advocating for a fundamental shift in how we measure national success.
“The problem isn’t just what’s in our budgets, but how we frame them,” explains Dr. Lauren McKenzie, economics professor at Carleton University. “GDP growth doesn’t tell us if people can afford homes, access mental health services, or drink clean water.”
This disconnect has fueled calls for Canada to join countries like New Zealand and Scotland in adopting a “wellbeing budget” approach for 2025—a framework that places community health, environmental sustainability, and quality of life alongside traditional economic indicators.
During a recent community forum in Centretown, I witnessed passionate debate about what such a shift would mean. “We’re trapped in outdated thinking,” argued former Parliamentary Budget Officer Kevin Page. “When budgets focus primarily on deficit numbers and GDP growth, we miss measuring what affects everyday Canadians most directly.”
The wellbeing budget concept isn’t merely academic theory. New Zealand implemented this approach in 2019, creating a “Living Standards Framework” that evaluates policy through multiple wellbeing indicators—from housing accessibility to environmental health. Finance ministers there must demonstrate how spending aligns with improving these metrics, not just economic growth.
For Indigenous communities across Canada, this approach resonates particularly strongly. “Our nations have always understood prosperity as holistic wellbeing, not just dollars,” says Melanie Harper, policy director at the Assembly of First Nations. “When clean water, language preservation, and community health become budget priorities, that’s when reconciliation gets real teeth.”
Climate policy experts point to another advantage: environmental sustainability becomes central rather than peripheral to budget planning. “Our current system treats climate action as a nice-to-have once economic targets are met,” notes Dr. Hassan Ahmed from the Climate Action Network. “A wellbeing framework would reverse that, making ecological health a prerequisite for budget approval.”
The concept also addresses regional disparities that traditional budgets often miss. While national unemployment figures might look promising, they mask deep inequalities between urban centers and rural communities, or between different provinces facing unique challenges.
“When I travel between Toronto and my hometown in Cape Breton,” says economist Martha MacLean, “I’m essentially moving between different economic realities that a single GDP figure simply cannot capture.”
Critics argue that wellbeing budgets risk becoming too subjective or politically malleable. Conservative finance critic Pierre Poilievre has called the approach “feel-good economics detached from fiscal responsibility.” Some business leaders worry about measurement challenges and potential impacts on Canada’s global competitiveness.
These concerns aren’t without merit. Defining and measuring wellbeing indicators requires careful thought and transparent methodology. Yet supporters counter that our current system already makes value judgments—just hidden ones that prioritize certain economic outcomes while downplaying social and environmental costs.
The growing momentum for this approach reflects pandemic-era reassessments of what constitutes a healthy society. Statistics Canada data shows that despite GDP recovery, Canadians report higher levels of financial stress, mental health challenges, and concern about future generations’ prospects than before COVID-19.
“We learned during the pandemic that our economy is only as resilient as our communities,” notes Finance Minister Chrystia Freeland during recent committee testimony. While not explicitly endorsing a wellbeing budget, she acknowledged the need for “broader measures of success” in future fiscal planning.
What might a Canadian wellbeing budget include? Based on consultations with policy experts and community advocates, key indicators would likely track housing affordability, healthcare access, climate resilience, income inequality, and community belonging—alongside traditional economic metrics.
Implementation would require cross-departmental coordination, with Treasury Board and Finance Canada developing new analytical tools. Budget proposals would need to demonstrate positive impacts across wellbeing domains, not just fiscal ones.
As I wrapped up interviews near Parliament Hill last week, I spoke with Jamie Thompson, a public servant who’s spent decades working on federal budgets. “The spreadsheets we use haven’t fundamentally changed in 30 years,” he admitted. “But the challenges we face as a country certainly have.”
With Canada standing at a crossroads—facing housing affordability crises, climate adaptation needs, and post-pandemic social recovery—the 2025 budget represents a critical opportunity to redefine what national prosperity really means.
The question remains whether political leadership will embrace this shift toward measuring what truly matters to Canadians. As we approach the next budget cycle, the voices calling for this fundamental rethinking grow louder, suggesting that wellbeing isn’t just good policy—it might also be good politics.
