I used to be a daily TTC commuter. For about 15 years, Toronto’s transit system was part of my everyday life. By around 2013, that started to change. By 2016, I had mostly stopped using it altogether.

Last week, after nearly a decade away, I decided to trust the system again.

My son and I were heading downtown for a comedy show. I did not want to drive because I might have a drink or two. I checked GO Transit first, but construction meant buses instead of trains for part of the route. So I changed plans, drove to Kipling, and decided to take the subway.

A few stations in, we were told to get off the train and board a shuttle bus. A few stops later, the bus dropped us near another station. What no one told passengers was that this was where subway service resumed. There were no clear announcements, no visible signs, and no staff guiding people. Everyone just stood around trying to figure it out.

It felt oddly familiar.

After all these years, nothing had really changed. The trains felt the same. The intercom announcements were still hard to understand. And during service disruptions, riders were still left on their own. The system still assumes that people somehow already know what to do.

We laughed about it because we were on our way to a comedy show. But it was the kind of laughter that comes from disbelief. Funny, but also deeply sad.

After the show, we decided to take GO Transit back, this time toward Kipling instead of Burlington. It was cold. I checked the GO website, which showed departure options at 10:00, 10:30, and 11:00 p.m. It was just after 10, so we walked about 15 minutes to the station.

We bought two tickets from the kiosk and headed toward the platform. Since it was my first time taking this route, we decided to ask GO staff in uniform to confirm we were in the right place.

That is when we were told there is no service to Kipling on weekends.

I was stunned. I asked how it was possible that I could check the website, see specific departure times, purchase tickets from an official machine, and still be told the service does not exist. The response was that the machine does not know the schedule.

In other words, the system can sell you a ticket for a trip that does not run.

One staff member went to help process a refund, which I appreciated. Another suggested that we should check the website before planning our trip. I had to explain that the website is exactly what led us there in the first place.

This was not a misunderstanding. It was a system failure.

What makes this more frustrating is that this is not a lack of money problem. The TTC and GO Transit have received billions of dollars in funding over the past decade for capital projects, maintenance, and expansion. Toronto, however, remains one of the lowest funded major transit systems in North America when it comes to operating support per rider. That means most funding goes into keeping aging infrastructure running, while far less goes into communication, staffing, signage, and the overall customer experience. The system technically functions, but routinely fails the people trying to use it.

That night, I wanted to do the responsible thing. I did not want to drink and drive. I wanted to use public transit with my son and show him that this city can work without a car.

Instead, I was reminded why so many people quietly give up on transit altogether.

This is not a ridership problem.

It is a trust problem.

And trust is built or lost one experience at a time.

Changes on the TTC and GO Transit Isn’t Much Better

I used to be a daily TTC commuter. For about 15 years, Toronto’s transit system was part of my everyday life. By around 2013, that started to change. By 2016, I had mostly stopped using it altogether.

Last week, after nearly a decade away, I decided to trust the system again.

My son and I were heading downtown for a comedy show. I did not want to drive because I might have a drink or two. I checked GO Transit first, but construction meant buses instead of trains for part of the route. So I changed plans, drove to Kipling, and decided to take the subway.

A few stations in, we were told to get off the train and board a shuttle bus. A few stops later, the bus dropped us near another station. What no one told passengers was that this was where subway service resumed. There were no clear announcements, no visible signs, and no staff guiding people. Everyone just stood around trying to figure it out.

It felt oddly familiar.

After all these years, nothing had really changed. The trains felt the same. The intercom announcements were still hard to understand. And during service disruptions, riders were still left on their own. The system still assumes that people somehow already know what to do.

We laughed about it because we were on our way to a comedy show. But it was the kind of laughter that comes from disbelief. Funny, but also deeply sad.

After the show, we decided to take GO Transit back, this time toward Kipling instead of Burlington. It was cold. I checked the GO website, which showed departure options at 10:00, 10:30, and 11:00 p.m. It was just after 10, so we walked about 15 minutes to the station.

We bought two tickets from the kiosk and headed toward the platform. Since it was my first time taking this route, we decided to ask GO staff in uniform to confirm we were in the right place.

That is when we were told there is no service to Kipling on weekends.

I was stunned. I asked how it was possible that I could check the website, see specific departure times, purchase tickets from an official machine, and still be told the service does not exist. The response was that the machine does not know the schedule.

In other words, the system can sell you a ticket for a trip that does not run.

One staff member went to help process a refund, which I appreciated. Another suggested that we should check the website before planning our trip. I had to explain that the website is exactly what led us there in the first place.

This was not a misunderstanding. It was a system failure.

What makes this more frustrating is that this is not a lack of money problem. The TTC and GO Transit have received billions of dollars in funding over the past decade for capital projects, maintenance, and expansion. Toronto, however, remains one of the lowest funded major transit systems in North America when it comes to operating support per rider. That means most funding goes into keeping aging infrastructure running, while far less goes into communication, staffing, signage, and the overall customer experience. The system technically functions, but routinely fails the people trying to use it.

That night, I wanted to do the responsible thing. I did not want to drink and drive. I wanted to use public transit with my son and show him that this city can work without a car.

Instead, I was reminded why so many people quietly give up on transit altogether.

This is not a ridership problem.

It is a trust problem.

And trust is built or lost one experience at a time.