Renovate or Demolish: What to Do When You’re at a Crossroads

Today you’ll read the story of two homeowners who faced essentially the same question and arrived at two completely different answers. Both were living in older houses that needed a lot of work, but one chose to preserve and renovate while the other decided that tearing down and rebuilding made more sense. The first couple extensively renovated a 1912 character home in East Vancouver. The second couple had lived in their 1960s Coquitlam home for decades but eventually concluded that renovating it wouldn’t give them the multigenerational home they wanted. Their stories show why deciding whether to renovate or start from scratch depends on your needs and which course of action will support the way you want to live.

Character homes are often worth saving even when tearing them down and starting again might seem easier. Houses with genuine architectural character are becoming rarer, and what makes them valuable isn’t simply their age but the craftsmanship, proportions, materials and details that can be difficult to authentically recreate today. In the case of the 1912 East Van home, much of its original character had disappeared beneath decades of renovations, including old stucco, a deteriorating porch, a poorly converted attic and several unpermitted additions. Rather than preserve every surviving element simply because it was old, the design-build team concentrated on recovering the character the house had lost. A Douglas fir entry door, cedar siding, red oak flooring, wood-trimmed double-hung windows and traditional wood casings helped reconnect the home to its original period while adapting it to the way the family lives today. Preserving an older home doesn’t mean freezing it in time. Sometimes it means recognizing the architectural value that remains and making sure another piece of the city’s history isn’t lost.

Although the house had good bones, not everything was in good condition. The basement leaked and had mould, its ceiling was only about seven feet high, and the house required major structural work. The renovation eventually involved lifting the entire building, excavating underneath it and pouring a new insulated concrete foundation, increasing the basement ceiling height from approximately seven feet to nine feet. That transformed a problematic basement into a useful recreational space featuring a gym, workshop, guest suite, and storage for a kayak. Upstairs, an unpermitted rear addition was removed and rebuilt, allowing the kitchen and main living areas to become brighter and better connected to the outdoors. The design team also customized the house around the owners’ entertaining habits, while better windows, air sealing and additional insulation improved its energy performance.

Starting from scratch gives you enormous freedom. You can design a new house around 21st-century expectations, whether that means an ensuite for every bedroom, a larger kitchen, wine room, home theatre, gym, better storage or spaces specifically designed for working and entertaining. But all of that freedom comes at a price, and this Vancouver project demonstrates why demolition isn’t automatically the smarter option simply because an old house needs extensive work. Applying for—and getting—character merit allowed additional floor area that wouldn’t have been possible with a new build, while constructing a comparable custom home would have cost substantially more. The renovation ultimately created approximately 3,400 square feet of living space while retaining the character of the original house and dramatically improving its structure, energy efficiency, and usefulness. Renovating certainly wasn’t cheap, but the owners got a lot of value for the money they spent. If an existing house has something valuable to preserve, can be successfully adapted and costs substantially less than constructing a comparable new home, renovation can make good financial sense.

The second tale takes us in the opposite direction. A couple who had lived in their 1960s Coquitlam home for decades initially thought they could renovate it for the next stage of their lives. But their goal wasn’t simply a newer kitchen or better bathrooms. They wanted the property to eventually accommodate three families: themselves and both of their sons’ families. They hoped to help their children establish homes of their own, remain close to future grandchildren and have family nearby as they themselves grew older. Once they thought about what that future required, they realized that preserving the existing house would demand a huge investment while still leaving them with fundamental limitations.

The owners realized that their existing two-level house simply wasn’t configured for the multigenerational future they had in mind. It had worked well for one family while their children were growing up, but accommodating three separate households would involve major compromises. Their goal was to create a property where they, both sons and eventually their grandchildren could live close to one another without constantly feeling as though they were sharing the same house. The existing home offered very little opportunity to create three comfortable family zones without complicated structural changes. This is where homeowners sometimes have to separate emotional attachment from long-term usefulness. A house may have served you beautifully for decades and hold many memories, but that doesn’t necessarily mean its architecture can support the next 20 or 30 years of your life. Unlike a century-old character home whose architectural qualities may justify considerable effort to preserve it, this particular 1960s house didn’t possess enough exceptional historical or architectural value to make those compromises worthwhile.

The financial argument for renovating weakened further once the owners and their contractor looked at what the house actually required. The foundation needed substantial work; the basement had an awkward configuration and ceilings that were too low for comfortable long-term living; walls needed to be reconfigured; kitchens and bathrooms would need to be rebuilt or added; and electrical, plumbing and structural systems required significant work. The owners also regularly entertained groups of 12 people or more, yet their dining area was too small, meaning an addition might be needed as well. Put everything together and the renovation could approach $1 million—and after spending all of that money, they would still be trying to force three families into a house that was never designed for them. That is the point where homeowners need to stop asking, “How much will it cost to save this house?” and start asking, “What exactly will we have after we spend the money?” A million-dollar renovation can make perfect sense when the result is the house you want. It makes considerably less sense when you spend that much simply overcoming the limitations of the house you already have.

Fortunately, the owners’ Coquitlam property gives them something the existing house doesn’t: room to rethink how the entire property could work. Their lot is approximately 7,000 square feet, which was much bigger than a typical 4,000-square-foot East Vancouver lot, creating more opportunity for multigenerational living. Subject to current zoning, allowable floor-space ratio, setbacks and other municipal requirements, the property could potentially accommodate approximately 4,000 square feet of thoughtfully planned living space for three households, giving each family privacy while allowing parents, children and future grandchildren to easily spend time together. A new design could also incorporate things the existing house couldn’t comfortably accommodate, such as an exercise studio, music practice space, larger dining area, better storage and properly planned kitchens and bathrooms. Once the owners were looking at close to $1 million to renovate a house that would still fall short of their future needs, the argument for preserving it became much weaker. In this case, rebuilding allows them to design around the life they actually want rather than continually working around the limitations of a house designed for another era and another stage of their lives.

The cost of demolishing an existing house and building from scratch is substantial, so homeowners shouldn’t automatically tear down an older home simply because renovation is complicated. If a house has architectural character, solid underlying value and enough flexibility to support the way you want to live, preserving and upgrading it can make tremendous sense—as the 1912 Vancouver project demonstrates. But if renovating requires enormous structural, mechanical and spatial changes and still leaves you with a house that can’t accommodate your future needs, starting again may be the wiser long-term investment. The Coquitlam couple’s home served them well when they were younger and raising a family, but what they want now is fundamentally different: a home capable of supporting several generations while giving everyone enough privacy and independence. Not every older home can make that transition successfully. Sometimes the best decision is to preserve what exists and make it better. Other times, the most sensible thing you can do is recognize that the house has taken you as far as it can—and design the next one around the life that lies ahead.