In a country as wealthy as Canada, persistent hunger should be unthinkable. And yet, new data released by Statistics Canada shows that food insecurity is affecting nearly 10 million Canadians.
Almost a quarter of Canadians are now experiencing food insecurity, including 2.4 million children. The burden is not shared equally: 35 per cent of Indigenous people and 41 per cent of Black people are experiencing some level of food insecurity—a glaring reminder that inequality in this country runs deep.
Food insecurity has persisted for years. Although there was a slight decline in the share of individuals living in food-insecure households from 2024 to 2025, the 2025 figures remain among the highest recorded over the past two decades of tracking.
Through our network of almost 450 organizations on the frontlines of this crisis, we’re hearing how people from all walks of life are struggling to keep up with the cost of living, even as they do everything to make ends meet. Sadly, the gap between what people earn and what life costs has widened to the point where even full-time work is no longer a guarantee of stability.
Most food-insecure households in Canada rely on employment income, not social assistance programs like welfare. In fact, in 89 per cent of these households, the primary earner works full-time yet still cannot afford the basics. If a full-time job can’t even cover basics like fruits and vegetables, something’s clearly broken.
The situation is much more dire for those on social assistance, disability supports and other fixed incomes where the average monthly benefit rates are below our current poverty threshold.
As food and fuel companies raise their prices, people are stretching their shoe-string budgets even further in order to get through the week. . Many are taking things on a day-by-day basis now. Parents are struggling to keep their children fed, clothed, and the rent paid. Of course, people are profoundly creative and resourceful, but there is a limit to what mac and cheese and instant noodles can do.
Ultimately, food insecurity isn’t the result of personal failure. It’s the outcome of systems that fail to distribute income and resources fairly. Canada has more than enough food. Even in times of economic uncertainty like these, we have the wealth to ensure that no one in our country goes hungry.
The consequences of this crisis are too many to list. Food insecurity is linked to worse physical and mental health, higher rates of chronic illness, and increased strain on our health-care system. It affects children’s development, and limits people’s ability to work, learn, and participate fully in society. It absolutely undermines productivity.
Recent analysis from Scotiabank demonstrates rising costs for essentials like food and energy are hitting lower-income households the hardest, precisely because they spend a greater share of their income on basic needs. Without targeted intervention, these pressures will continue to deepen inequality and push more people into poverty, homelessness, and hunger.
And there is every reason to believe the situation will deteriorate. Global volatility—including ongoing conflict in the Middle East—is already driving up costs. The pressure on household budgets is intensifying precisely at a moment when things feel fragile, with kids experiencing unacceptably high levels of material deprivation.
Against this backdrop, Canada’s policy response has been lacklustre. The recent fiscal update introduced some affordability measures, but a serious, coordinated national plan to reduce food insecurity is still missing. For example, suspending federal excise taxes on gasoline until Labour Day will deliver just $59 in savings to households in the lowest income quintile, compared to $211 for those in the highest, according to analysis by the Parliamentary Budget Officer (PBO), Canada’s independent fiscal watchdog. Broad-based measures like these stop short of making a meaningful difference, especially for the households facing the greatest financial strain.
Similarly, the Canada Groceries and Essentials Benefit—which organizations like Right To Food advocated for—also falls short of its potential as a serious cash-transfer program capable of reducing food insecurity. While the federal government committed an additional $12.4 billion over the next five years, the average increase for a single adult amounts to $136 per year—or $11 a month—and $272 for a family of four, or an additional $23 a month. Food prices were already expected to rise an additional $1000 this year, and that was before the war on Iran was launched.
Hunger in the midst of abundance is ultimately indefensible. In a country as wealthy as Canada, this contradiction reflects political choices rather than scarcity. That Indigenous communities are so deeply affected only sharpens that reality, revealing a profound and ongoing failure of reconciliation.
We pride ourselves on being a fair and compassionate country. Yet nearly 10 million Canadians – people we live alongside every day–are navigating this cost-of-living crisis largely on their own. More than a policy gap, this is a test of our national priorities and whether the federal government, now buoyed by a majority, is prepared to meet the gravity of this moment.
