Canada’s banking and real estate sectors are, in many ways, modern mirrors of an ancient structure—a pyramid scheme. While the term evokes fraudulent get-rich-quick plans, the principles underlying these systems are surprisingly similar. What we see today is a legitimate and institutionalized version of wealth flowing upwards, while the many at the base support the few at the top. The promise of stability and prosperity, so often sold to the foreign workers and immigrants drawn to this country, is increasingly hollow, as they find themselves not only excluded from the rewards but trapped in a cycle of escalating debt and precarious homeownership.
Canada’s real estate market has, over the years, become one of the most overvalued in the world. The story of rising property values is often presented as a triumph, an indicator of a thriving economy. But behind this narrative is a stark reality: these soaring prices, particularly in major urban centers like Vancouver and Toronto, far outstrip the growth in wages. Since 2005, Canadian home prices have increased by over 300%, while income levels have struggled to keep up.
Meanwhile, mortgage debt in Canada continues to rise, crossing $2 trillion in 2022. This isn’t a crisis for the banking sector, which profits from high-ratio mortgages—where buyers put down less than 20% and thus become a peg to market fluctuations.
For the banks, however, this is a win-win. The system thrives on debt. Mortgage holders are locked into decades-long financial commitments, paying interest that feeds the profits of the major banks. Those at the top—the lenders, the real estate developers, and the wealthiest investors—reap the benefits, while the rest scramble to stay afloat. This structure, too, reflects the classic pyramid, where those with early access to wealth build on the backs of those who enter late and struggle to climb.
Government policy, in its attempts to encourage foreign investment, has only deepened the divide. For years, Canada’s real estate market has been a haven for wealthy foreign investors, particularly from China, who buy properties not to live in but as investment vehicles. In places like Vancouver, foreign buyers own a significant percentage of the most expensive properties, driving up prices for everyone else. This influx of capital benefits the developers and early investors, but it leaves ordinary Canadians, especially immigrants, with even fewer opportunities to buy homes at reasonable prices.
The parallels to a pyramid scheme are stark. Those who enter early (this is a generational issue)—before the massive price inflation—see their wealth grow, the boomers (and those who bend over the hardest) while those who arrive later, (ironically the system is set to capture immigrants and foreign workers), often as forms of government programs that allow them to be given favourable access institutionally and then forced to buy into a market that is increasingly unsustainable. They are sold the promise of a better life, of homeownership, of stability. But these promises are often hollow, leading them into a cycle of debt and precarious financial footing. The promise of upward mobility is not so different from the promise of those early pyramid schemes: alluring, but for most, out of reach.
For every person caught in this system, for every worker whose sweat and labor contribute to the rising tide of the real estate market, there is a growing awareness—a chance to see the system for what it is. The days of silently laboring under these false promises are eroding. The internet and access to information offer today’s serfs—the foreign workers, the newcomers trapped in these precarious deals—a voice. A voice to question, to demand reform, to expose the mechanisms that keep them locked in place. The knowledge of how this system works isn’t just theoretical anymore; it’s an open secret.
As the gears of this real estate and banking pyramid grind on, those at the base are beginning to understand their power: not necessarily to overturn the system immediately, but to expose it, to call attention to the fact that this wealth is built on a carefully maintained illusion of opportunity.
And in that exposure, there is the seed of change. While we may not see the collapse of this structure in our immediate future, the more we speak about it, the more we share these truths, the less this pyramid can hide behind the façade of normalcy.
It is not just a matter of real estate or banking; it is about the broader systems that encourage the few to rise at the expense of the many. And it is here, through access to information and collective understanding, that the serfs of today have something the serfs of the past never did: the ability to see through the lie and the courage to call it what it is.
The question now is not whether the system will continue, but how long it can sustain itself before those it exploits rise to demand something better.
The concept of a pyramid scheme is a classic, but when you step back and look at various modern systems, you can see the same structure and exploitation lurking beneath the surface, just in different forms. The key is that pyramidal structures thrive on power or resources trickling up from the masses at the base to benefit the few at the top. Many systems we encounter today exhibit similar characteristics—though wrapped in legitimacy or tradition, they essentially serve as mechanisms of extraction, benefiting those already in positions of power while leaving the majority struggling at the bottom.
Multi-Level Marketing (MLM)
This one’s pretty much a direct descendant of the classic pyramid scheme. MLMs operate under the guise of selling products, but most of the money comes from recruiting new members. The promise is that anyone can succeed if they just work hard enough, but the truth is, only those at the top of the pyramid—usually the first people in—see real financial gains. The majority of people at the bottom are left with boxes of unsold products and a sense of failure, wondering why the system didn’t work for them.
MLMs thrive on the illusion of empowerment, but they systematically exploit social networks, personal relationships, and individual ambition. The real product isn’t the makeup, health supplements, or essential oils—it’s the dream of financial independence, dangled just out of reach for most participants.
The influx of foreign labor, while often framed as essential to Canada’s economic growth, creates deeper cracks in the foundation for homegrown workers as well. The same system that traps foreign workers in debt and precarious employment also undermines the stability of those already here—especially those in sectors like construction, manufacturing, and service industries. These are industries where, in a fair and just system, Canadian workers would be able to secure a decent wage and support their families. But instead, they find themselves competing in a degenerative environment, one where private equity and corporate interests distort the democratic ideals that should be protecting them.
At the heart of this problem is the way foreign labor is used, not to fill genuine labor shortages in critical areas, but to suppress wages across the board. By creating a steady pipeline of foreign workers willing—or forced—to accept lower wages, companies are able to depress the overall market value of labor. This practice is particularly acute in sectors like construction, where homegrown workers once thrived. The arrival of foreign workers, often tied to employers and given no real leverage to negotiate, introduces a labor force that can be easily exploited. And for the domestic workforce, this means stagnant wages, fewer job opportunities, and a loss of bargaining power.
Canadian construction workers—those who have been raised with the promise of fair wages for hard work—are increasingly left out of the picture. Jobs that once sustained middle-class families, offering a pathway to homeownership and a secure retirement, are now at risk. The unionized jobs that once held companies accountable to fair labor practices are eroded, replaced by temporary contracts and subcontracting practices that cut out the protections that should be afforded to these workers. What remains is an industry where the average construction worker fights for scraps in a market that favors cheap, exploitable labor.
The influence of private equity only worsens the situation. As private equity firms increasingly buy up assets in industries like construction, they introduce a profit-driven mentality that prioritizes short-term gains over long-term worker stability. These firms, focused on maximizing their returns, push for cost-cutting measures that include reducing wages and benefits, outsourcing jobs, and hiring temporary or foreign workers who can be paid less. The result is a race to the bottom, where Canadian workers are left to fight for basic economic dignity in a system that no longer values their labor for its own sake, but as a cost to be minimized.
The deeper issue here is that democracy itself has been captured. The democratic promise that labor and capital should balance each other, that the government should represent the interests of its citizens, is distorted when private equity and corporate interests wield undue influence over policy. We see this in immigration policy, which, instead of addressing genuine labor needs and ensuring fair treatment for all workers, is manipulated to serve the interests of those at the top. The government, swayed by corporate lobbyists and investment interests, opens the floodgates for foreign labor, while offering little in terms of protections for domestic workers or the foreign workers themselves.
This imbalance affects not just wages, but the quality of life for homegrown workers. For many Canadian families, the dream of a middle-class lifestyle—homeownership, a decent wage, stability—becomes harder to attain. Jobs that should offer a fair wage are outsourced or filled by workers who, through no fault of their own, are willing to accept less. And as more and more jobs are devalued, Canadian workers are left to compete in a job market where the odds are stacked against them, struggling to maintain a standard of living that previous generations took for granted.
The construction industry is just one example, but the pattern repeats across multiple sectors. Manufacturing jobs, once the backbone of the middle class, have seen a similar fate. Service industry roles, which have expanded to include many foreign workers, follow the same trajectory. The presence of low-cost labor means that wages stagnate, while the cost of living—particularly housing—continues to rise. For many homegrown workers, this creates a degenerative cycle: they cannot afford to live in the cities where jobs are, they cannot save for the future, and they cannot hope to compete in an economy where profit trumps human well-being.
The labor issue isn’t just economic; it’s moral. What we are witnessing is the erosion of community—the slow breakdown of the social contract that should bind us. When Canadian workers are left behind, when they are forced to fight for fair wages in an environment rigged against them, it isn’t just their wallets that suffer. It’s the fabric of democracy itself. A democracy where labor rights are trampled by the interests of capital, where the government turns a blind eye to corporate exploitation, is a democracy in name only.
The homegrown worker’s struggle is a fight for survival, but it is also a fight for justice. It is a fight against the system that allows private equity to dictate the terms of employment, that uses immigration as a tool to suppress wages, and that prioritizes the needs of the wealthy over the well-being of its citizens. These workers are not just fighting for themselves; they are fighting to reclaim the dignity of labor, to restore the balance that democracy promises but too often fails to deliver.
At the heart of this issue is a profound disconnect between policy and people. The rhetoric around immigration and labor often fails to address the real consequences—how it affects not only the incoming workforce but those who have built their lives here. Canada has prided itself on being a land of opportunity, but when opportunity is systematically denied to those who play by the rules, when the working class is consistently undermined by corporate interests and government inaction, that promise rings hollow.
The Canadian worker today—whether they are a construction laborer, a factory worker, or a service industry employee—finds themselves trapped in a system that no longer values the sweat on their brow. They are part of an economy where the rules are written by those at the top, and where their ability to provide for their families is under constant threat. This is not just about economics; this is about democratic decay, the loss of a fair system where workers can thrive, not just survive. It’s about a future that looks less like the bright horizon Canada has historically promised and more like a struggle for survival against a machine that seems built to wear them down.
The system needs fixing. Not just for the foreign workers brought into its fold, but for the homegrown workers who are fighting to protect their families, their communities, and their place in a democracy that too often fails to serve them. The question is whether those in power are willing to listen—or whether they too are lost to the siren song of profit and private equity.
Canada’s banking and real estate sectors have increasingly come under scrutiny for functioning in ways that resemble a modern pyramid scheme, where the system is structured to benefit those at the top—banks, wealthy investors, and real estate developers—while saddling the lower and middle classes, particularly foreign workers and immigrants, with substantial debt and limited access to financial mobility. This analysis will demonstrate, with evidence, how these sectors create a cycle of dependency, trapping participants in escalating debt while concentrating wealth at the top.
The Canadian real estate market has been one of the most overvalued in the world, with home prices dramatically outpacing incomes in key urban centers such as Vancouver, Toronto, and Montreal. The rise in property values is often hailed as a sign of economic strength, but it obscures the fact that these inflated prices are inaccessible to a growing portion of the population, especially new immigrants and foreign workers. The following dynamics illustrate how this system operates in a pyramidal manner
According to the Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation (CMHC), between 2005 and 2022, Canadian home prices rose by nearly 320%, while the average wage increase during that period was a fraction of that. Data from the Bank for International Settlements shows that Canada’s home prices have increased more sharply than those in most other developed nations, creating a housing affordability crisis. In Vancouver, for instance, the median home price-to-income ratio in 2022 was over 13:1, making homeownership unattainable for most workers without incurring substantial debt
This dynamic mirrors a pyramid scheme, as those who entered the housing market early—particularly before the massive price inflation—are sitting on substantial home equity. Meanwhile, new buyers are forced to take on massive mortgages that stretch well beyond their income, often with the false promise that their property value will continue to rise. However, this system is unsustainable; once prices stabilize or decline, those who bought in late are left with devalued properties and crippling debt, while the early entrants cash out or leverage their equity.
Foreign workers and recent immigrants often face additional challenges when entering the Canadian real estate market. Many arrive in Canada under temporary work permits or as permanent residents, drawn by the promise of economic opportunity and stability. However, they often lack the financial literacy, local market knowledge, and credit history needed to secure fair real estate deals. Research by the Institute for Research on Public Policy (IRPP) highlights that immigrants face steeper challenges when attempting to purchase homes, and are more likely to be pushed into high-interest mortgages from alternative lenders . These lenders capitalize on their limited credit options, charging them higher rates and trapping them in subprime mortgages.
As property values continue to rise, these workers are encouraged to stretch their finances, often with the help of precarious lending schemes, to get a foot in the door of the real estate market. In this way, the real estate sector functions like a pyramid, where newer entrants—foreign workers and immigrants—are burdened with disproportionately high debt loads, while older investors and property developers profit from the continued demand and price inflation.
The Canadian banking sector is deeply intertwined with the real estate market, and the country’s major banks have positioned themselves as key players in perpetuating this debt cycle. A few critical components of the banking sector’s role in the pyramidal nature of real estate
Mortgage debt in Canada has ballooned over the last two decades, with Statistics Canada reporting that mortgage debt stood at over $2 trillion by 2022, up from approximately $600 billion in 2000 . The Bank of Canada has raised concerns about this high household debt, noting that many households have taken on debt levels that are unsustainable if interest rates rise or if home values stagnate.
Many first-time homebuyers, including foreign workers and immigrants, rely on high-ratio mortgages, which allow them to buy homes with a down payment of less than 20%. This practice, while seemingly beneficial for accessing the market, leaves buyers highly vulnerable. According to CMHC, approximately 20% of all mortgages in Canada are high-ratio, and these are disproportionately taken out by recent immigrants . These buyers are often house-poor, spending a significant portion of their income on mortgage payments, with little left for savings or emergencies. If property values fall, these homeowners are left in a position of negative equity, where the value of their home is less than the outstanding mortgage.
In this way, the banking system profits from the cycle of debt. Banks extend credit, encouraging buyers to stretch their finances, and continue to profit from mortgage interest payments while offering little protection or flexibility to those who are caught in market downturns.
While the majority of Canadians—particularly the middle and working classes—struggle under the weight of mortgage debt, the wealthiest Canadians, who are more likely to hold multiple properties and investment real estate, see their wealth concentrated and expanded. According to a 2021 report from Credit Suisse, the top 1% of Canadians control nearly 25% of the country’s wealth, much of which is tied to real estate . This concentration of wealth at the top perpetuates the pyramid structure, where those with the resources to invest early or in multiple properties see their wealth grow exponentially, while those at the base struggle to keep up with rising costs and debt.
Canadian government policies have, at times, exacerbated the pyramidal nature of the real estate and banking sectors. Foreign investment in Canadian real estate, particularly from wealthy investors in countries like China, has driven up property prices in key markets such as Vancouver and Toronto. A 2018 report by the Canada Housing Statistics Program (CHSP) found that foreign buyers owned more than 5% of the properties in Vancouver, with higher concentrations in luxury segments of the market .
This influx of foreign capital inflates prices, which benefits developers, banks, and existing homeowners, but makes the market even less accessible to foreign workers, immigrants, and younger Canadians trying to enter the market. The result is a widening wealth gap, where those with capital continue to accumulate property, while those without are priced out or forced into precarious lending arrangements to participate in the system.
The Pyramidal Scheme in Canada’s Real Estate and Banking Sectors
Canada’s real estate and banking systems function in ways that strongly resemble a pyramidal structure, where the wealth and financial gains flow upward to a select few, while the majority—especially foreign workers, immigrants, and lower-income Canadians—are left struggling with disproportionate debt and limited financial mobility. The combination of escalating home prices, precarious mortgage practices, and government policies that favor wealth concentration at the top perpetuates a system where economic power is consolidated in the hands of the few, while the many are trapped in a cycle of debt and diminished opportunity.
In this sense, the real estate and banking sectors can be viewed as a modern reimagining of the classic pyramid scheme, where early entrants and those at the top of the hierarchy benefit most, while those at the base are left carrying the financial burden. For Canada to move beyond this system, significant reforms in housing policy, lending practices, and wealth distribution will be necessary to create a more equitable and sustainable economic landscape.
Corporate structures, especially in large, multinational companies, often resemble pyramid schemes when you analyze how profits and power are distributed. The CEO and top executives earn millions (often even after failure), while the majority of employees toil away for a fraction of that, rarely seeing a piece of the enormous profits their labor generates. Even more striking is how middle management functions to keep the base of the pyramid working harder, all while funneling the benefits to the top.
The promise of “working your way up the ladder” is often just a mirage. For most workers, no matter how hard they grind, the ladder is rigged—few make it to the top, while the structure demands constant growth at the expense of the people below.
The gig economy—represented by companies like Uber, DoorDash, and TaskRabbit—relies heavily on workers at the base of the pyramid. The people who own the platforms or hold significant shares see huge profits, while the drivers and couriers make minimal wages, often below minimum wage once costs are factored in (vehicle maintenance, insurance, etc.).
The system creates an illusion of freedom—“be your own boss”—but most gig workers are stuck chasing small payouts for long hours with no job security, benefits, or retirement plans. The wealth generated by the work of millions of gig economy participants flows upward to the top, leaving those at the bottom hustling with very little to show for it.
Indeed, what we are witnessing is not merely a financial trap; it’s a parade of foreign workers being ushered into Canada under the banner of opportunity, only to find themselves shackled by the realities of a system that pulls them into a cycle of indentured servitude. This modern iteration of servitude isn’t bound by chains of physical labor alone, but by the invisible forces of debt, precarious housing, and a dependence on an economy designed to extract wealth from those least able to resist.
When Canada promotes its open immigration policies, it paints an image of hope and prosperity—a fresh start in a developed country, a place where hard work can still pay off. And to many, this promise is irresistible. But once they arrive, the truth reveals itself: they are not walking into a land of opportunity, but into a system carefully designed to exploit their labor, trap them in debt, and bind them to financial obligations that limit their mobility, both physically and economically.
The Canadian real estate market is the most visible trap. Foreign workers, particularly those arriving under temporary work permits or as new permanent residents, are thrust into a housing market where property prices have soared far beyond the means of the average worker. But the lure of ownership remains strong—homeownership, after all, is sold as the pinnacle of stability, the key to unlocking long-term wealth. So they stretch their finances, often taking on subprime loans with high interest rates or minimal down payments, which leave them vulnerable to market fluctuations.
These workers arrive hoping to carve out a piece of this country’s prosperity, only to find themselves tethered to mortgages that will drain their income for decades, with little chance of financial escape. It’s the perfect trap: homeownership becomes the vehicle through which debt is transferred upwards to the banks and real estate developers. And those who manage to buy a home are often too strapped to ever leverage it into true wealth. They are, in essence, working to sustain the wealth of others—the property developers, the banks, the long-established homeowners who got in early.
But it doesn’t stop there. The employment landscape itself feeds into this system of modern servitude. Many foreign workers, especially those in the lower wage sectors—service industries, manufacturing, agriculture—find themselves in jobs that offer just enough to scrape by but never enough to break free. Wages stagnate, and inflation eats away at what little they earn, while the cost of living continues to rise. A recent study by Statistics Canada shows that new immigrants earn significantly less than their Canadian-born counterparts, even after years in the country. This wage gap ensures that even those who arrive with skills and education are slotted into the base of the economic pyramid.
As they work long hours to pay off their growing debts, they contribute to an economy that thrives on their labor but offers little in return. The dream of financial independence, of homeownership, of upward mobility, is dangled before them like a carrot on a stick. But for most, these dreams are perpetually out of reach, obscured by layers of debt, high living costs, and a lack of access to the tools that might allow them to rise.
The situation takes on a darker dimension when we consider the temporary foreign worker programs that bring thousands of workers into Canada every year. These programs, designed to fill labor shortages in sectors like agriculture and construction, offer temporary work permits but no clear path to permanent residency or citizenship. These workers are often paid less than their Canadian counterparts and are at the mercy of their employers, with little recourse if they are mistreated. In many cases, they are tied to a single employer, meaning if they lose their job, they lose their right to stay in the country.
This is where the parallel to indentured servitude becomes most striking. These workers are brought in under the guise of opportunity but are bound to the conditions set by their employers and the Canadian government. They cannot freely move or switch jobs without risking deportation, and they often live in substandard conditions, isolated from the broader Canadian workforce. Their labor is essential to the economy—yet they are denied the basic freedoms and opportunities that are promised to others.
In a sense, they are passport holders in name only—foreign citizens in a country that uses their labor but refuses to grant them full participation in its society. They arrive with hope, but that hope is quickly crushed under the weight of debt, low wages, and a system that treats them as disposable. Their presence ensures the continued wealth of those at the top, while they remain locked in a cycle of labor and debt with no clear way out.
The poetic justice here is that these workers, despite being marginalized and exploited, are beginning to see the system for what it is. The flow of information—thanks to the internet, social media, and increased global awareness—means that the illusion is starting to crumble. The system depends on their labor but underestimates their ability to organize, to speak out, to demand better. While they may be trapped in this system of modern servitude for now, the seeds of change are being planted.
Foreign workers and immigrants may be at the base of the pyramid now, but as they begin to voice their frustrations and demand reform, the pyramid itself may start to shake. The more this system is exposed for what it is—a mechanism designed to extract wealth from the vulnerable—the harder it will be for those at the top to sustain it. What was once a parade into prosperity has become a slow march into debt and dependency. But the serfs of today have something the serfs of yesterday did not: access to information, a global community of voices, and the power to demand more.
The real question is not how much longer this system can continue but how soon those trapped at the bottom will refuse to play their part.