If you have never built a home in British Columbia, congratulations—you have avoided one of the most sophisticated forms of self-punishment available to the modern adult. Building here is not simply a process. It’s not even a journey. It is, depending on the day, a test of endurance, a political science experiment, and a weather-based soap opera.
Those who witness the spectacle from afar often say, “It can’t be that bad.” Those who have experienced it nod silently while developing a sudden, unbreakable relationship with caffeine. Let us take a tour.
The Permit Process: A Choose-Your-Own-Adventure, But Every Path Is Paperwork
Securing a permit in B.C. is a bit like trying to adopt a highly suspicious cat. There are forms, interviews, background checks, more forms, and still the cat isn’t sure about you. The municipality doesn’t dislike construction; it simply has trust issues.
A single permit application may pass through a planning department, an engineering department, an environmental review, a heritage review, and a review to confirm the heritage review was reviewed. Somewhere in this maze of official stamps and dignified frowns, your well-intentioned little building idea learns humility.
Lumber Supply: Schrödinger’s Planks
British Columbia has so many trees that even the trees are tired of being trees. And yet, when it’s time to acquire lumber, the entire province collectively shrugs and says, “Oh—were you hoping to buy some?”
Lumber availability in B.C. operates on principles known only to forest spirits and shipping companies. The price chart looks less like a graph and more like a cardiogram of someone watching their favourite sports team lose in overtime.
Tradespeople: Powerful, Rare, and Very Much in Demand
Tradespeople in B.C. are like gourmet mushrooms: hard to find, expensive, and capable of disappearing right when your dinner—or construction schedule—depends on them. You do not “hire” a tradesperson in this province. You encounter them.
They arrive on site with a mystical air, perform feats of precision, then evaporate in a cloud of sawdust, leaving behind only the faint smell of coffee and competence. If you manage to sign a skilled carpenter for more than two consecutive days, you should immediately purchase a lottery ticket.
Weather: The Overdramatic Co-Star
Construction schedules require stability. British Columbia’s weather requires chaos. It is not content to merely rain; it rains with emotion. Sunshine arrives only on days when no one needs it, and concrete, with its long list of demands, is rarely impressed.
Public Consultations: The Neighbourhood Talent Show
Public hearings are a treasured West Coast tradition—half civic duty, half performance art. Attendees express concerns ranging from practical to deeply creative:
- “This building will increase shadows on my begonias.”
- “I read online that density attracts crows.”
- “If you add more housing, there will be more people, and then where will we park?”
By the end, nothing is solved, but everyone feels strangely accomplished.
And Yet, Somehow, Homes Happen
Here’s the twist: despite the chaos, despite the pencilled-in schedules and tear-stained budgets, homes do get built. Houses rise from the mud, townhomes take shape, condos appear on skylines like triumphant punctuation marks.
People move in. Neighbours complain slightly less. And somewhere, a builder looks at the finished structure and thinks—with dangerous optimism—“Maybe the next project won’t be so complicated.”
It will be. But that’s the charm of building in British Columbia: a comedy, a puzzle, and a mildly chaotic lifestyle choice, one slightly overbudget, entirely hard-won home at a time.