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Not all projects that make the cut will carry the same economic weight. But if the goal is a stronger and more confident Canada, then there’s one “small” project that punches far above its budgetary requirements, precisely because it’s symbolic.

I’m talking about 24 Sussex Drive.

Built in 1868, it became the prime minister’s official residence in 1950 and has welcomed such figures as Sir Winston Churchill and Queen Elizabeth II, as well as John F. Kennedy and Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis. I attended a function there 25 years ago; it was a charming space, but tired. Today, the  says the main residence, along with the caretaker’s house at 10 Sussex Drive, are in “critical” condition, with $36.6 million in deferred maintenance having been identified in 2021. The residence was closed for health and safety reasons the next year, then underwent a $4.3 million abatement and decommissioning process to remove potential hazards and stabilize the building’s structure.

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: 24 Sussex wouldn’t pass for a governor’s mansion if Canada were ever to become America’s 51st state. And south of the border, no one doubts that buildings talk: U.S. President Donald Trump, a real-estate developer to the core, is now pressing ahead with a privately funded, $200 million new ballroom for the White House. He’s betting on the power of architecture to send a message, however controversial. The project still faces federal planning scrutiny, but Trump’s intent is unmistakable: space signals status.

Canadians tend to recoil instinctively when they hear what it would cost to renovate the prime minister’s official residence, and the bad optics often drown out arguments in favour of overhauling the complex. A  found that 26 per cent of Canadians want to tear down 24 Sussex and forget about it, while a combined 67 per cent support either renovating it for just under $40 million or rebuilding it entirely.

We understand the need. We just hate the bill.

Perhaps the biggest roadblock to progress on this file has been political fear. Nearly two-thirds of Canadians believe successive federal governments have avoided fixing the property out of concerns about voter backlash. Meanwhile, a G7 country is functionally without an official residence for its head of government.

This is where peering through the lens of national interest might help. If we accept that Canada’s brand and bargaining power are part of our overall competitiveness, then the stage is set for real statecraft. No one is proposing that we build a Palace of Versailles on the Ottawa River. Indeed, the point is to find a Canadian solution: something modest but modern, fully accessible, secure by design, energy efficient and capable of hosting dignitaries and investors without embarrassing ourselves. In place-branding terms, 24 Sussex should be a physical expression of how we want to be seen by the world.

Funding is the political tripwire, although not the technical one: if the United States can contemplate putting private money toward a White House ballroom under federal oversight, then surely Canada can devise a more transparent system, with published donor lists, contribution caps, independent governance, clear public reporting and a ban on donations from those with active federal procurements. We should treat 24 Sussex like the national asset it is and talk to Canadian voters like adults about what they’d get for their tax dollars post-renovation: safety, accessibility, energy efficiency and hosting capacity.

It’s time we decided whether to renovate or rebuild and then executed. Every month we drift reinforces the wrong story about us: that we’re more comfortable looking like the 51st U.S. state than like a sovereign people with our elbows up. We would never tolerate a dilapidated embassy abroad. We shouldn’t tolerate a dilapidated diplomatic staging ground at home.

If projects of national importance truly exist to advance this country’s prosperity and security, then reclaiming 24 Sussex is about more than mere housekeeping. It’s brand strategy on a national scale. Fix the house. Fix it sensibly, transparently and soon. And then get back to selling Canada to the world. That’s not some indulgence. It’s strategy.