4 min
Why the retirement plan that worked for your parents is failing millions of Canadians
Last month, I found a jar of mustard at the back of my fridge with a best-before date of 2019. It looked and smelled fine. My wife watched me unscrew the lid like I was about to eat gas-station sushi, and I threw the mustard away. I wish Canadians gave their retirement plans the same hard look, because most of the advice we hand people over 55 carries a best-before date of 1990, the year my parents' retirement began. They met at the grocery chain where they both worked, and each left with a defined-benefit pension: a monthly cheque that arrived for the rest of their lives, regardless of what the stock market did. Their employer bore the investment risk. Their job was to show up at the retirement party and eat the cake. That plan stood on three legs: a workplace pension, CPP and Old Age Security, and a paid-off house you would eventually sell to trade down. In 1991, a 65-year-old Canadian man could expect to live about 16 more years and a woman about 20. A plan built for that stretch did its job. Look at those legs today. Only 37.7 per cent of paid workers in Canada belonged to a workplace pension plan of any kind in 2023, according to Statistics Canada, and coverage has been declining for two decades. For most people, the cheque that used to arrive like the newspaper has been replaced by a statement that reads like a horoscope. CPP and OAS were never meant to carry anyone alone. That leaves the house. A 2023 CPP Investments survey found that only 45 per cent of Canadians have a financial plan for retirement, yet about three in four Canadians aged 55 to 74 own their homes. For millions of families, the house was the plan: buy it, pay it off, and burn the mortgage papers in a roasting pan. The old playbook still has one instruction for that asset, unchanged since 1990: sell, move, and hope the condo is cheaper. Most like to stay in their neighbourhood. In Toronto, they usually can't afford to. The calendar changed, too. My parents' plan was built for that 15-to-20-year stretch. Today, Canadian financial planning standards give a 65-year-old couple an even chance of one living to 94, a retirement closer to 30 years. That is about 10 extra years of groceries, property tax and dental work, and nobody gave the plan a raise to cover them. Larry Fink, who runs BlackRock, put his finger on it in his 2024 letter to investors: we have worked hard to help people live longer and much less hard to help them afford those extra years. Those years arrived just as the guaranteed pension cheque was disappearing, a change Fink called "a shift from financial certainty to financial uncertainty." When the man in charge of the world's largest pile of other people's money says so, I'd put down the mustard. Our system does a fine job of helping people pile up money, then goes quiet the moment they need that pile to become a paycheque. We hand people a savings target, a risk questionnaire and an RRSP deadline. On their last day of work, we hand them a bouquet. How much do you withdraw? Which account first? What happens to your OAS when your RRIF minimum pushes you past the clawback threshold? Where does the house fit? The old plan shrugs. The strain shows. Statistics Canada reports that among Canadians aged 65 to 74 who worked in 2022, almost half did so out of necessity. After a late-life divorce, my mother returned to part-time work at a grocery store. She had done everything the old plan asked of her. The usual reply is that people just need to save more. Telling a 72-year-old to save more is like telling a marathoner at kilometre 40 to train harder. An up-to-date plan opens with the question that matters at 65: how will this money cover the bills for 30 years? Home equity goes on the balance sheet at the first meeting, pulled from the drawer marked "emergencies and inheritance." Ninety-one per cent of Canadians say they want to live independently in their own homes for as long as possible, so a good plan offers ways to do that beyond a For Sale sign. And the industry that spent 40 years teaching people to save owes them the same energy in how to spend it. I have a modest proposal for the banks. Every February, you run RRSP season, complete with sailboat commercials. Give us an RRIF season to match, with the same budget, and put a drawdown plan in front of every client who turns 65. And while you are at it, switch the word "savings" to "spending" or "paycheque" on our bank account. Take your retirement plan out of the back of the fridge and check the date on the lid. If it says 1990, you know where it goes. My wife will be happy to show you the garbage. This Opinion Article was published in the Business Section of the Saturday Star and online Toronto Star on October 17, 2026,
