Why Ottawa keeps treating food inflation like a PR problem

Prime Minister Mark Carney’s government announced this week a new suite of measures aimed at easing the cost of groceries and essentials. At the centre is the rebranded "Canada Groceries & Essentials Benefit"—formerly the GST credit—boosted by 25% for five years, with a one-time 50% top-up. For a family of four, that could amount to as much as $1,890 this year. Nearly 12 million Canadians will be affected.

On the surface, it is hard to argue against any measure that puts money directly into the hands of families struggling to keep up with food prices. According to projections in Canada’s Food Price Report 2026, this benefit actually exceeds the expected increase in food expenses for a typical family of four this year. In that narrow sense, Ottawa can credibly say it is keeping households whole.

READ: Food prices forecast to climb up to 6% in 2026

Public funds transferred directly to consumers—no matter how well-targeted—tend to increase inflationary pressures on the very goods they are meant to make more affordable. Food is no exception. When more money chases the same groceries, prices often respond upward, especially in a food system already strained by logistics, labour shortages, and climate-related shocks. The saving grace here is targeting: lower-income households are far more likely to spend the benefit on necessities rather than discretionary goods. That limits, but does not eliminate, the inflationary risk.

READ: Carney announces GST rebate boost to counter high cost of groceries

Still, the program’s structure feels familiar. The GST credit can be used for anything. Officially, it is framed as help for groceries and essentials; practically, it is unrestricted cash. We are back in a political comfort zone perfected in the Trudeau era—heavy on slogans, light on structural reform. Canadians are not naïve. They understand perfectly well that this money can pay for rent, fuel, or debt just as easily as it can for food.

Which raises an obvious question: if the goal is food affordability, why not tackle food taxes directly?

Canadians pay billions in taxes at the grocery store every year. The problem has quietly worsened with shrinkflation and product reformulation. As package sizes change and products cross regulatory thresholds, more items once considered basic groceries are now taxable. At the same time, the ready-to-eat counter has become a lifeline for households avoiding increasingly expensive restaurants. Those healthy sandwiches, salads, and prepared meals are fully taxed. By any economic logic, that makes little sense.

Zero-rating all food—retail and foodservice alike—would be simpler, more transparent, and less inflationary than cash transfers. Based on our estimates, each Canadian could save up to $200 a year on food. No applications. No rebranding. No political theatre. Just lower prices at the checkout.

Beyond consumer relief, the government also announced $500 million to ease supply-chain costs. It is a welcome acknowledgment that affordability problems do not begin at the cash register. But in a country as vast and trade-dependent as Canada, that amount barely scratches the surface. Farmers, manufacturers, and distributors are still absorbing elevated transportation, energy, and compliance costs. If Ottawa is serious about food affordability, supply chains deserve sustained attention, not episodic funding.

The same applies to the $150 million Food Security Fund for small and medium-sized enterprises and immediate expensing for greenhouses. Both are good decisions. Both are insufficient given the scale of the challenge.

One measure, however, stands out unequivocally: the $20 million allocated to support food banks. That is money well spent. No institution in Canada delivers food-affordability relief more efficiently, more quickly, or with greater dignity than food banks. They are not just safety nets; they are logistical marvels, run by communities, for communities. In an era of rising need, they remain a quiet miracle of the human spirit—often outperforming government programs in reaching those who need help most.

The new Canada Groceries & Essentials Benefit will provide short-term relief, and for many families, that relief will be meaningful. But affordability cannot be solved with cheques alone. Without tax reform on food and deeper investment in supply chains, Ottawa risks treating symptoms while leaving the underlying disease untouched.

Helping Canadians afford food should be boring, structural, and durable—not rebranded, temporary, and politically convenient.