Zombie Apocalypse? I’m moving to Montreal

In the spirit of October, let’s imagine the year is 2037. COVID-19 has mutated into Z.1.2.345 (the Zombicron variant). Zombies are rampaging across the world. They’ve been spotted in Caledon, Barrie and Guelph. Toronto remains unharmed, but it’s only a matter of time. John Tory (who is somehow still mayor) has to deal with a swarm of undead marching towards his city. What does he do?

Needless to say, this is quite a policy problem. Tory would need to cooperate with the provincial and federal governments before making any big decisions. Collaboration with mayors across the GTA and beyond would also be necessary. What happens if one of them becomes zombie? By the time any of these conversations take place, the zombies would have crossed the 407 and eaten your grandma.

Let’s say Tory wants to barricade Toronto to protect its residents. Would he leave everyone west of Eglinton, north of Steeles and East of Victoria Park to fend for themselves? How do you distinguish a Torontonian or barricade a city without concrete borders?

Now consider the same apocalypse in Montreal. As an island, the boundaries of Montreal are pretty indisputable. If the mayor hears about a horde of zombies filing towards her city, she can block the eight bridges that connect Montreal from mainland Quebec. There’s no need to negotiate with surrounding municipalities to the same degree. Montrealers can keep eating bagels and shopping on Saint Laurent without much consideration for the world’s destruction.

Whether it be housing, transportation, or a zombie apocalypse, a city’s geographic location influences both policy problems and solutions. One thing is for sure: it’s time I take a break from watching Halloween specials on Netflix.