Latest news with #Molson
Vancouver Sun
2 days ago
- Business
- Vancouver Sun
Vancouver Mayor Ken Sim wants review of industrial lands designation of five major areas
Vancouver Mayor Ken Sim wants city staff to prepare an overview of five key industrial sites in the city, possibly leading to some or all of those sites being released from Metro Vancouver's Industrial Land Reserve. This would mean those sites could be used for residential construction as well as traditional industrial and work-creation uses. Sim will present his motion to council on Wednesday, giving staff until October to report back. Here are the five areas Sim wants reviewed: Start your day with a roundup of B.C.-focused news and opinion. By signing up you consent to receive the above newsletter from Postmedia Network Inc. A welcome email is on its way. If you don't see it, please check your junk folder. The next issue of Sunrise will soon be in your inbox. Please try again Interested in more newsletters? Browse here. This iconic seven-acre site at the southeast base of the Burrard Bridge has not been used as a brewery since 2019, with Molson now brewing its beer in Chilliwack. It was purchased by real estate developer Concord Pacific in 2016, then leased to Molson for a few years. In 2010, the company pitched a large residential development for the site that has gone nowhere. Since then the Squamish First Nation, which owns land around the site, has begun a large-scale residential development called Sen̓áḵw. The City of Vancouver owns 11 acres of industrial-zoned lands southeast of the intersection of Terminal Avenue and Main Street. This site is near the St. Paul's Hospital development currently underway, the Main Street SkyTrain Station and Pacific Central Station. The proximity of industrial land close to public transit is part of the motivation behind Sim's wish to have these industrial sites reviewed by staff. 'British Columbia's Transit-Oriented Areas legislation requires local governments to increase housing density around SkyTrain and major transit corridors, increasing the necessity for a policy review of industrial lands near rapid transit,' Sim said in his motion. The Railtown District lies between the Downtown Eastside and the Port of Vancouver's rail hub. It covers several blocks between Gore Avenue and Heatley Avenue and the Port lands and Alexander Street. The area hosts the headquarters of burgeoning locally-grown fashion giant Aritzia, as well as retro backpack maker Herschel Supply Co. and the Belgard Kitchen. Sim's report states Railtown is 'a unique industrial and creative district requiring tailored policy guidance to support job space creation and cultural economy integration.' This site is directly south of a major residential tower development at the foot of Cambie Street near the Marine Drive SkyTrain Station. The industrial lands are currently occupied by Don Docksteader Motor's Volvo and Subaru dealership, with City of Vancouver-owned lands across the road now being used as a recycling depot. Sim described the area as 'a rapid transit-served, mixed-use area with employment potential requiring clear direction on the future of adjacent industrial designated sites.' This is the largest of the five industrial sites, running from Cambie Street to Main Street and from 2nd Avenue to Broadway. 'The Mount Pleasant industrial area, a centrally located employment district with sites within the provincially-mandated TOAs, where modernized policy guidance is needed to support innovative tech clusters, light industry, and creative economy uses while carefully considering residential uses,' Sim writes in his motion. dcarrigg@
Yahoo
30-06-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
Canada's stubby beer bottle finds new meaning in an age of American bluster
Forty years after its retirement as the industry standard bottle for beer in Canada, the stubby is being reinterpreted in an age marred by tariffs and American grievance — not as a cultural icon, but as a discreet way of protecting a national industry. In a research paper published this spring, Heather Thompson, a recent graduate of the public history program at Carleton University in Ottawa, argues that the stubby — squat, refillable and therefore largely unappealing to foreign brewers — functioned as a quiet and distinctly Canadian form of protectionism. "At the time, the Big Three, [Canadian Breweries Limited], Molson and Labatt's, they see the Americans coming and they knew they were very interested in the lucrative Canadian market. They needed something," she told CBC News. "The stubby is not a tariff, it's not government-imposed. It's as much an economic product as it is a cultural product." In today's climate of rising tariffs, "buy Canadian" policies and deepening trade tensions, the story of the stubby might feel less like historic footnote and more like a blueprint — for how Canada can still navigate life beside an economically dominant and often unpredictable neighbour. The stubby was introduced in 1961, at a time when Americans, who favoured non-recyclable aluminum cans, made their products in large centralized facilities and shipped their beer across the U.S. and to the world. The stubby, by contrast, was glass, but it was also cheap, durable and lightweight, making it easy to transport. It was also able to be reused up to 100 times. It was the keystone in a closed-loop Canadian bottling system that kept costs down for domestic brewers while it kept foreign brewers out by raising the cost of market entry. The bottle also fit neatly within Canada's fragmented domestic economy. Thanks to interprovincial trade barriers, brewers looking to sell in a given province often had to produce their beer there or face tariffs and restrictions when crossing provincial lines. By 1962, the year after the stubby was introduced, Canada's Big Three brewers controlled about 95 per cent of the Canadian beer market. They owned nearly all of the country's 61 breweries, which gave them a physical presence in every region of Canada. The Big Three also held a majority stake in Ontario's Beer Store, known then as the Brewing Warehousing Company Limited. When the stubby was made a packaging requirement for all beer sold at its stores in Ontario, Thompson argues, the Big Three effectively locked all foreign brewers out by creating an extra hurdle for entry into the market. "To bottle in the stubby, [American brewers] are going to have to make their own line at their plant to bottle specifically for Ontario," she said, noting any cost savings for American brewers through the reusable stubby would be eaten up in transportation costs by first shipping the beer to Canada then shipping it back the U.S. for a refill. Since almost all of Canada's breweries were owned by only three companies when the stubby was introduced in Ontario, the rest of the country followed suit in adopting the stubby because the bottle could be filled and reused in any bottling plant in any province by any Big Three brewer. On par with bagged milk, says history podcaster That kind of market consolidation meant for a generation of Canadian beer drinkers, from 1961 to 1984, the stubby was just about everywhere: on bar counters, fridges or sweating on the dock from St. John's to Victoria. It was also immortalized as a symbol of Canadian identity by the beer-swilling, tuque-wearing McKenzie brothers, who were a parody of Canadian working class culture in the early 1980s, near the end of the bottle's industry dominance. "When we think of the stubby, at least for me, I think of Bob and Doug McKenzie," said Craig Baird, host of the Canadian History Ehx! podcast, a show that looks back on the country's history. Baird said the only thing that comes close to what the stubby did, in terms of uniquely Canadian design and function, is bagged milk. Like the stubby, it's efficient, cost-effective and largely incomprehensible to outsiders, making it both a practical solution and marker of national identity. "If you look online, people say Canadians use bagged milk even though only Ontario and some other localized areas use bagged milk." Canadian brewers dropped the stubby in 1984, switching to taller long necks as American brands like Budweiser and Coors entered the market thanks, first, to licensing agreements with American brewers and then free trade with the U.S. The new bottles held the same 341 millilitres but offered more branding appeal. WATCH | Saying goodbye to the stubby: The stubby began to be phased out in 1985 and now largely exists only in antique stores and our collective memory. Reviving the spirit, if not the bottle In a global market shaped by trade battles and foreign ownership, Thompson sees the stubby as more than nostalgia. It's a reminder of what Canadian brewers once did to protect their market — and what they might do again. "We're seeing more interest in buying Canadian," she said. "It's a great opportunity for craft brewers to revive the stubby and its cultural power." While few brewers have returned to the squat bottle, its spirit lives on in projects such as Glorious and Free, a patriotic IPA first brewed by Dominion City Brewing in Ottawa. The recipe is shared with 40 breweries across Canada that have used hometown ingredients to create their own versions. "The idea for the campaign really came from a walk in the snow," Dominion City co-founder Josh McJannett said with an obvious nod to former prime minister Pierre Trudeau, a politician whose retirement followed "a walk in the snow" in 1984, the same year the stubby was put out to pasture. "The thought of stubby beer bottles around again is certainly appealing to the nostalgia in me," McJannett said, noting Glorious and Free is available in tallboy cans only. He said the recipe was crafted as a direct response to some of the frustration he was feeling over U.S. President Donald Trump's tariffs and talk of annexation. "This was a way to harness that feeling and take some kind of an action," McJannett said. Firm, but polite. A beer that, like the stubby, refuses to be poured into anyone else's mould.
Yahoo
29-06-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
Canada's stubby beer bottle finds new meaning in an age of American bluster
Forty years after its retirement as the industry standard bottle for beer in Canada, the stubby is being reinterpreted in an age marred by tariffs and American grievance — not as a cultural icon, but as a discreet way of protecting a national industry. In a research paper published this spring, Heather Thompson, a recent graduate of the public history program at Carleton University in Ottawa, argues that the stubby — squat, refillable and therefore largely unappealing to foreign brewers — functioned as a quiet and distinctly Canadian form of protectionism. "At the time, the Big Three, [Canadian Breweries Limited], Molson and Labatt's, they see the Americans coming and they knew they were very interested in the lucrative Canadian market. They needed something," she told CBC News. "The stubby is not a tariff, it's not government-imposed. It's as much an economic product as it is a cultural product." In today's climate of rising tariffs, "buy Canadian" policies and deepening trade tensions, the story of the stubby might feel less like historic footnote and more like a blueprint — for how Canada can still navigate life beside an economically dominant and often unpredictable neighbour. The stubby was introduced in 1961, at a time when Americans, who favoured non-recyclable aluminum cans, made their products in large centralized facilities and shipped their beer across the U.S. and to the world. The stubby, by contrast, was glass, but it was also cheap, durable and lightweight, making it easy to transport. It was also able to be reused up to 100 times. It was the keystone in a closed-loop Canadian bottling system that kept costs down for domestic brewers while it kept foreign brewers out by raising the cost of market entry. The bottle also fit neatly within Canada's fragmented domestic economy. Thanks to interprovincial trade barriers, brewers looking to sell in a given province often had to produce their beer there or face tariffs and restrictions when crossing provincial lines. By 1962, the year after the stubby was introduced, Canada's Big Three brewers controlled about 95 per cent of the Canadian beer market. They owned nearly all of the country's 61 breweries, which gave them a physical presence in every region of Canada. The Big Three also held a majority stake in Ontario's Beer Store, known then as the Brewing Warehousing Company Limited. When the stubby was made a packaging requirement for all beer sold at its stores in Ontario, Thompson argues, the Big Three effectively locked all foreign brewers out by creating an extra hurdle for entry into the market. "To bottle in the stubby, [American brewers] are going to have to make their own line at their plant to bottle specifically for Ontario," she said, noting any cost savings for American brewers through the reusable stubby would be eaten up in transportation costs by first shipping the beer to Canada then shipping it back the U.S. for a refill. Since almost all of Canada's breweries were owned by only three companies when the stubby was introduced in Ontario, the rest of the country followed suit in adopting the stubby because the bottle could be filled and reused in any bottling plant in any province by any Big Three brewer. On par with bagged milk, says history podcaster That kind of market consolidation meant for a generation of Canadian beer drinkers, from 1961 to 1984, the stubby was just about everywhere: on bar counters, fridges or sweating on the dock from St. John's to Victoria. It was also immortalized as a symbol of Canadian identity by the beer-swilling, tuque-wearing McKenzie brothers, who were a parody of Canadian working class culture in the early 1980s, near the end of the bottle's industry dominance. "When we think of the stubby, at least for me, I think of Bob and Doug McKenzie," said Craig Baird, host of the Canadian History Ehx! podcast, a show that looks back on the country's history. Baird said the only thing that comes close to what the stubby did, in terms of uniquely Canadian design and function, is bagged milk. Like the stubby, it's efficient, cost-effective and largely incomprehensible to outsiders, making it both a practical solution and marker of national identity. "If you look online, people say Canadians use bagged milk even though only Ontario and some other localized areas use bagged milk." Canadian brewers dropped the stubby in 1984, switching to taller long necks as American brands like Budweiser and Coors entered the market thanks, first, to licensing agreements with American brewers and then free trade with the U.S. The new bottles held the same 341 millilitres but offered more branding appeal. WATCH | Saying goodbye to the stubby: The stubby began to be phased out in 1985 and now largely exists only in antique stores and our collective memory. Reviving the spirit, if not the bottle In a global market shaped by trade battles and foreign ownership, Thompson sees the stubby as more than nostalgia. It's a reminder of what Canadian brewers once did to protect their market — and what they might do again. "We're seeing more interest in buying Canadian," she said. "It's a great opportunity for craft brewers to revive the stubby and its cultural power." While few brewers have returned to the squat bottle, its spirit lives on in projects such as Glorious and Free, a patriotic IPA first brewed by Dominion City Brewing in Ottawa. The recipe is shared with 40 breweries across Canada that have used hometown ingredients to create their own versions. "The idea for the campaign really came from a walk in the snow," Dominion City co-founder Josh McJannett said with an obvious nod to former prime minister Pierre Trudeau, a politician whose retirement followed "a walk in the snow" in 1984, the same year the stubby was put out to pasture. "The thought of stubby beer bottles around again is certainly appealing to the nostalgia in me," McJannett said, noting Glorious and Free is available in tallboy cans only. He said the recipe was crafted as a direct response to some of the frustration he was feeling over U.S. President Donald Trump's tariffs and talk of annexation. "This was a way to harness that feeling and take some kind of an action," McJannett said. Firm, but polite. A beer that, like the stubby, refuses to be poured into anyone else's mould.
CBC
29-06-2025
- Business
- CBC
Canada's stubby beer bottle finds new meaning in an age of American bluster
Forty years after its retirement as the industry standard bottle for beer in Canada, the stubby is being reinterpreted in an age marred by tariffs and American grievance — not as a cultural icon, but as a discreet way of protecting a national industry. In a research paper published this spring, Heather Thompson, a recent graduate of the public history program at Carleton University in Ottawa, argues that the stubby — squat, recyclable and therefore largely unappealing to foreign brewers — functioned as a quiet and distinctly Canadian form of protectionism. "At the time, the Big Three, [Canadian Breweries Limited], Molson and Labatt's, they see the Americans coming and they knew they were very interested in the lucrative Canadian market. They needed something," she told CBC News. "The stubby is not a tariff, it's not government-imposed. It's as much an economic product as it is a cultural product." In today's climate of rising tariffs, "buy Canadian" policies and deepening trade tensions, the story of the stubby might feel less like historic footnote and more like a blueprint — for how Canada can still navigate life beside an economically dominant and often unpredictable neighbour. The stubby was introduced in 1961, at a time when Americans, who favoured non-recyclable aluminum cans, made their products in large centralized facilities and shipped their beer across the U.S. and to the world. The stubby, by contrast, was glass, but it was also cheap, durable and lightweight, making it easy to transport. It was also able to be reused up to 100 times. It was the keystone in a closed-loop Canadian bottling system that kept costs down for domestic brewers while it kept foreign brewers out by raising the cost of market entry. The bottle also fit neatly within Canada's fragmented domestic economy. Thanks to interprovincial trade barriers, brewers looking to sell in a given province often had to produce their beer there or face tariffs and restrictions when crossing provincial lines. By 1962, the year after the stubby was introduced, Canada's Big Three brewers controlled about 95 per cent of the Canadian beer market. They owned nearly all of the country's 61 breweries, which gave them a physical presence in every region of Canada. The Big Three also held a majority stake in Ontario's Beer Store, known then as the Brewing Warehousing Company Limited. When the stubby was made a packaging requirement for all beer sold at its stores in Ontario, Thompson argues, the Big Three effectively locked all foreign brewers out by creating an extra hurdle for entry into the market. "To bottle in the stubby, [American brewers] are going to have to make their own line at their plant to bottle specifically for Ontario," she said, noting any cost savings for American brewers through the reusable stubby would be eaten up in transportation costs by first shipping the beer to Canada then shipping it back the U.S. for a refill. Since almost all of Canada's breweries were owned by only three companies when the stubby was introduced in Ontario, the rest of the country followed suit in adopting the stubby because the bottle could be filled and reused in any bottling plant in any province by any Big Three brewer. On par with bagged milk, says history podcaster That kind of market consolidation meant for a generation of Canadian beer drinkers, from 1961 to 1984, the stubby was just about everywhere: on bar counters, fridges or sweating on the dock from St. John's to Victoria. It was also immortalized as a symbol of Canadian identity by the beer-swilling, tuque-wearing McKenzie brothers, who were a parody of Canadian working class culture in the early 1980s, near the end of the bottle's industry dominance. "When we think of the stubby, at least for me, I think of Bob and Doug McKenzie," said Craig Baird, host of the Canadian History Ehx! podcast, a show that looks back on the country's history. Baird said the only thing that comes close to what the stubby did, in terms of uniquely Canadian design and function, is bagged milk. Like the stubby, it's efficient, cost-effective and largely incomprehensible to outsiders, making it both a practical solution and marker of national identity. "If you look online, people say Canadians use bagged milk even though only Ontario and some other localized areas use bagged milk." Canadian brewers dropped the stubby in 1984, switching to taller, non-recyclable long necks as American brands like Budweiser and Coors entered the market thanks, first, to licensing agreements with American brewers and then free trade with the U.S. The new bottles held the same 341 millilitres but offered more branding appeal. WATCH | Saying goodbye to the stubby: Farewell to the reliable old stubby 41 years ago Duration 4:02 The stubby began to be phased out in 1985 and now largely exists only in antique stores and our collective memory. Reviving the spirit, if not the bottle In a global market shaped by trade battles and foreign ownership, Thompson sees the stubby as more than nostalgia. It's a reminder of what Canadian brewers once did to protect their market — and what they might do again. "We're seeing more interest in buying Canadian," she said. "It's a great opportunity for craft brewers to revive the stubby and its cultural power." While few brewers have returned to the squat bottle, its spirit lives on in projects such as Glorious and Free, a patriotic IPA first brewed by Dominion City Brewing in Ottawa. The recipe is shared with 40 breweries across Canada that have used hometown ingredients to create their own versions. "The idea for the campaign really came from a walk in the snow," Dominion City co-founder Josh McJannett said with an obvious nod to former prime minister Pierre Trudeau, a politician whose retirement followed "a walk in the snow" in 1984, the same year the stubby was put out to pasture. "The thought of stubby beer bottles around again is certainly appealing to the nostalgia in me," McJannett said, noting Glorious and Free is available in tallboy cans only. He said the recipe was crafted as a direct response to some of the frustration he was feeling over U.S. President Donald Trump's tariffs and talk of annexation. "This was a way to harness that feeling and take some kind of an action." McJannett said. Firm, but polite. A beer that, like the stubby, refuses to be poured into anyone else's mould.
Global News
24-06-2025
- Business
- Global News
New Beer Store locations set to be shuttered, union fears more closures will follow
A steady stream of announcements from the Beer Store continues with the news the retail giant will shutter more locations in August as it keeps ramping down the number of storefronts it operates. On Monday, the Beer Store confirmed another 10 of its spaces were slated for closure, a response to Ontario's decision to allow corner, grocery and big box stores to sell alcohol. The Beer Store — which is owned by Molson, Labatt and Sleeman — has announced store closures in dribs and drabs throughout the year. The latest announcement takes the total number of stores closed to more than 70, according to the union representing workers at The Beer Store. Closing Beer Stores across the province was triggered by the Ford government ending its exclusivity agreement with the retailer and allowing other locations to sell beer, wine and mixed drinks. Story continues below advertisement In May 2024, Ontario announced a $225 million agreement with the Beer Store to break its contract early and liberalize alcohol sales in the province. The agreement said some stores could be closed, but at least 300 Beer Store locations should be kept open until the end of 2025. Get breaking National news For news impacting Canada and around the world, sign up for breaking news alerts delivered directly to you when they happen. Sign up for breaking National newsletter Sign Up By providing your email address, you have read and agree to Global News' Terms and Conditions and Privacy Policy The Beer Store will be allowed to close as many locations as it chooses from Jan. 1, 2026, onwards. A news release for The Beer Store confirming the latest round of closures, which come into effect on Aug. 24, said the decision was 'never easy' to make. 'The Beer Store recognises the contributions our employees make to the business,' the company said. 'All efforts will be made to support employees through this process in alignment with commitments and agreements.' The Beer Store has previously refused to rule out closing all its stores and did not respond to questions about how many stores had been closed to date from Global News. John Nock, president of the local union branch representing Beer Store workers, said he was confident the Beer Store would close as many stores as it was contractually allowed to. 'I have no doubt they will, so yes, that would mean 52 more closures,' he wrote in an email. 'And in 2026 they can close how many they like. That scares me.' Story continues below advertisement The Beer Store locations which will close on Aug. 24 are:
