You can see it in the systems we log into, the rules they embed and the rituals that follow. It governs without ever being named; a living document we inherit but no longer author. 

Over the past several years, new technologies, leadership shifts and branding debates have revealed just how far that constitution has drifted from its original intent.  

What follows isn’t a history – it’s an excavation and, I hope, the beginning of a rewrite. 

I. The illusion of control 

Every morning, Realtors log into the systems that decide what they can say, how they can say it and how visible their work will be. 

We call it technology, but it’s governance by another name; a rulebook written in code instead of bylaws. 

This is about power, and how quietly it moved out of reach. 

Each field, validation rule, and search filter enforces policy in ways few members ever see. 

We think we’re entering data; we’re actually performing compliance. 

The platforms we use don’t just reflect the profession; they define it, and somewhere between the first upload and the latest system migration, control slipped. 

Organized real estate still speaks the language of democracy, but its constitution has already been rewritten inside the software. 

II. From representation to ritual 

Boards were never meant to be monuments. They were tools built by practitioners to solve shared problems. But over time, the procedure became the product. 

Today, most boards operate less like professional communities and more like small parliaments. Quorums small enough to fit in a classroom can amend bylaws for tens of thousands of members. Proxy stacking concentrates control. Consultations are staged after decisions are made. 

This isn’t malice; it’s muscle memory. Every cycle inherits the same playbook: stability first, scrutiny second. “Continuity” becomes “competence.” “Dissent” becomes “disloyalty.” 

And soon, the process itself becomes proof of purpose. 

When power becomes insulated, accountability fades. What follows is a ritual in the absence of reform. 

The ritual looks busy: new logos, new task forces, new vendor contracts. 

But motion isn’t evolution.

Outside, the species looks unchanged.  

III. From bylaw to backend 

Governance didn’t die; it migrated into software. 

Every time a listing rejects an input because a field doesn’t exist, that’s regulation. 

Every time Realtor.ca decides which properties rise to the top of a search, that’s policy. 

Every automatic warning, every hard stop, every required field, every “invalid value” message is a digital descendant of a forgotten committee motion. 

But unlike those committees, code doesn’t interpret intent. It enforces outcomes. 

When a provincial prop-tech collective expanded its MLS infrastructure through subscription agreements in 2024 (a shift that brought most Ontario boards into a unified subscription framework), decisions about listing standards and data structure effectively moved from volunteer committees to contract clauses. 

And when its leadership quietly changed earlier this year through an internal governance realignment, oversight of Ontario’s core MLS infrastructure shifted again. 

No member referendum. No public notice. Just a new slate, appointed internally.   

That’s not scandal. It’s system design. 

Governance didn’t fail; it changed medium.   

Realtors still carry the liability for every misstep the system allows or forbids. 

If an input error misrepresents a property, the board doesn’t face the client. The agent does. The brokerage shoulders the risk. Yet neither has meaningful authority over the infrastructure that defines compliance. 

That’s the quiet inversion of power: the governed held accountable for rules they no longer write. 

IV. Paying to be governed

Membership used to buy representation. Now it buys access. 

Realtors pay dues to boards. Boards pay vendors to manage the systems. Vendors, in turn, enforce compliance frameworks that determine how Realtors work. 

It’s a closed loop of authority without ownership. 

At the national level, the same pattern repeats. CREA licenses the trademarks and operates Realtor.ca; the public face of the profession. 

Yet the listings feeding it come from local systems governed by independent contracts, each with its own structure and rules. 

The result is a federation of dependencies: members finance everything but control nothing. 

Sold as modernization, this consolidation resembles enclosure more than efficiency. 

When Realtor.ca was restructured into a for-profit subsidiary, the move was practical but symbolic. 

It marked the moment the profession’s most visible asset became a product. 

Belonging turned into a business model and representation became a side effect. 

We stopped belonging to the system when the system learned to bill us for belonging. 

V. The relevance test: What is a board for? 

If access to data is all we value, then the question isn’t whether boards are broken; it’s whether they’re still necessary at all. 

Only one board in Ontario owns the technology. The rest are tenants, licensing the systems they claim to govern. 

They administer dues, hold meetings, and issue statements, but their primary role is custodial: collecting money on behalf of platforms they don’t control. 

As a couple of writers have recently debated, the Realtor identity itself is under review. 

Some call the name baggage, tied to NAR’s scandals and American dysfunction. 

Others defend it as a badge of honour, a symbol of professionalism and trust hard-won over decades. 

I would argue that both sides miss the point. The word isn’t the issue. The structure beneath it is. 

If governance and accountability collapse, even the most sacred title loses meaning. 

The brand can survive scandal; it cannot survive structural irrelevance. 

The Ontario Real Estate Association (OREA)-led call for Ombudsman oversight of the Real Estate Council of Ontario (RECO) exposed that hollowness. 

It sounded bold, but misunderstood the law it invoked. 

The Ombudsman Act excludes self-regulating professions. 

If boards truly want to end self-regulation, they should say so. 

If they don’t, then the campaign misled the very members who fund it. 

Realtors didn’t connect with that letter because it wasn’t written for them. 

It was written to look responsive. It was a performance of relevance, not an act of it. 

VI. The ROI of representation 

If advocacy is the last defense of organized real estate’s layered structure, then it’s fair to ask: what’s the return? 

Every Realtor measures productivity and cost-per-lead.  

But the organizations that preach professionalism can’t quantify their own value. 

OREA’s own disclosures show millions spent annually on advocacy and communications, yet no member-facing metrics explain outcomes or savings. 

In business, unmeasured value isn’t value. It’s overhead. 

The loss of the OREA College exposed that vacuum. 

Education once gave OREA purpose: a tangible service tied to competence. 

When that mandate moved to the regulator, what remained was advocacy without measurement. 

And advocacy without measurement is faith, not strategy. 

Would we, knowing what we know now, voluntarily build a system that compels every Realtor to join an association, fund mandatory insurance and underwrite lobbying whose outcomes we can’t audit? 

If this system didn’t already exist, could you convince anyone to invent it? 

If we built a system today, we would not build this system. 

VII. The case for a controlled burn 

That doesn’t mean demolition. It means renewal. 

The first boards were grassroots cooperatives: small, voluntary networks built on trust and reciprocity. 

They created order before law. Their purpose was cooperation, not control. 

Over time, that cooperative impulse hardened into hierarchy. 

What began as a network of peers became a lattice of dues, committees and closed sessions. 

We now call that professionalism, but is it? 

The future doesn’t need to abolish boards; it needs to release them. 

As one industry commentator recently wrote, even Microsoft now behaves like a startup, forced by AI to relearn how to innovate. 

Real estate could do the same, not by chasing disruption but by rediscovering ownership. 

Innovation without consent isn’t transformation. 

Sunsetting legacy structures isn’t destruction; it’s hygiene. 

A controlled burn clears what it is that protects structure over service. 

The replacement need not be ideological. 

Imagine a platform cooperative: a Realtor-owned, technology-driven utility where brokerages and agents hold real stakes. 

Policy would be ratified by digital referendum. 

Vendor contracts would expire automatically unless renewed by member vote. 

Data standards and governance would be transparent by design. 

Boards that survived such a transformation wouldn’t have to defend their relevance. 

They have already proven it. 

VIII. The constitutional moment 

Every profession has a constitution: an unwritten agreement about who decides what. 

Ours has been rewritten without consent. 

Control migrated from members to boards, from boards to associations, and from associations to vendors. 

Elections continue, meetings occur, minutes are approved, but democracy isn’t procedure. 

It’s consent. 

When governance moves into code, consent becomes a checkbox. 

When advocacy drifts into performance, representation becomes branding. 

When boards mistake data for trust, the profession loses both.   

This isn’t a technical crisis, it’s constitutional.  

The choice ahead is stark but simple:   

1. Continue the drift and let governance consolidate in the hands of those who own the tools. Or;  
2. Reclaim authorship and rebuild from the ground up, guided by the same cooperative instinct that once defined the Realtor. 

If we built organized real estate today, we wouldn’t replicate the layers. 

We’d design a single, accountable, member-governed institution: transparent, data-competent and morally literate. 

IX. The path back to purpose 

Boards were never meant to be monuments. They were instruments built to serve those who work in the field, not to rule over them. 

We still need cooperation. We still need shared data, clear standards and public trust. 

But those don’t require the architecture we’ve inherited. 

They require will, imagination and consent.   

If organized real estate still believes it exists to put members first, it must prove it. Not with statements, but with structure. 

If access is all that defines membership, the public will soon ask what defines the Realtor. 

Our constitution isn’t in Ottawa or Toronto. It lives in the collective consent of those who practice. 

The system won’t rewrite itself. 

Brandon Reay

Brandon Reay brings a multifaceted background in real estate practice, policy, and governance. Before stepping into brokerage leadership, Brandon spent several years in organized real estate, contributing to strategic initiatives and advocacy efforts with CREA and OREA, and various Chambers of Commerce. His work has included shaping housing policy, supporting regulatory reform, and improving REALTOR® engagement across the country.

Brandon’s approach blends hands-on brokerage experience with a systems-level understanding of how policy, market forces, and professional standards intersect. He is known for helping professionals navigate evolving market conditions and advocating for higher standards within the industry. In addition to his leadership role at RE/MAX Hallmark Realty Group, he remains an active REALTOR® focused on agent development, business strategy, and client service.

Brandon regularly contributes commentary on market trends to media outlets and industry publications and has served as a spokesperson on housing issues in Ottawa. He is also a frequent speaker at real estate events, offering data-driven insights on brokerage strategy, professionalism, and the future of the industry.

He holds a Master of Business Administration from the Sprott School of Business. Brandon lives in Ottawa, where he remains closely involved in local policy discussions on housing affordability and real estate governance.

The post Reay: The hidden constitution of real estate appeared first on REM.

Finches with thick beaks cracked seeds none of their cousins could touch; slim beaks reached nectar that others couldn’t access. The insight wasn’t that birds grew bigger or tried harder. It was that form and function changed together; a new trait for a new reality. 

That is evolution.

But if those birds were boards, Darwin’s experience would have been very different. He’d find lots of motion: new logos, fresh committees, tech programs, even mergers. That’s growth, getting bigger, and adaptation, tweaking to survive. But would he see evolution, a durable change in governance DNA that shifts who holds power, how decisions are made, and how accountability works? 

I’d argue he would not.

Further, did the finches know that they’d evolved? 

Probably not; they were busy surviving. 

It took an observer to contrast what came before with what existed now and say, “This is different.” Boards can be the same: inside the system, small moves feel like progress; outside, the species looks unchanged. That is to say: it isn’t for the species to determine that it has evolved.

Survival of the fittest… bylaws

It is worth saying out loud that growth and adaptation are not bad. They often keep systems responsive in the short term. But evolution is different. It creates traits that survive turnover at the board table and do not depend on personalities. Those traits pass to the next generation. That is the bar if we care about what is better for the profession.

Boards exist to serve the profession, not to perpetuate themselves. By that measure, evolution is the work.

The habitat has changed (and no, a new logo isn’t camouflage)

The landscape is already nudging boards toward new traits. In Canada, the proposed settlement in the Sunderland and McFall class actions would have Re/Max adopt changes that include ending the practice of requiring its franchisees and their affiliated brokers and agents to join a defendant board or association or to follow the rules alleged to give rise to damages. 

The settlement requires court approval, but the signal is plain: assumptions about mandatory membership are no longer fixed. 

In the United States, the Phoenix Association of Realtors (PAR) offers a non-member MLS access path that uncouples platform access from traditional association membership. Following discussions with NAR in February of this year, PAR adjusted its program to comply with national bylaws while continuing non-member access to the Arizona Regional MLS (ARMLS), a practice NAR acknowledged has existed in Phoenix since the 1990s. ARMLS’ current rules also recognize both Realtor and non-member participants. 

The sky didn’t fall. It’s just another beak in a different habitat.

A different beak for a different feed

Darwin’s finches survived because their beaks evolved to fit their environment. Boards need the same kind of change. Four traits, carried forward across leadership cycles, would make boards measurably fitter and the profession stronger.

The first beak: member referendums

A trait matters only if it persists. Governance is the same. Structural decisions that bind the profession for years should not rest solely with a handful of directors. Binding member referendums make authority heritable. Mergers, long contracts, and bylaw rewrites that alter rights should go to the members with plain-language summaries of costs, benefits, and alternatives. In Ontario, the Not-for-Profit Corporations Act already allows members to remove directors by ordinary resolution, which lowers the practical threshold of accountability. Building referendums into bylaws takes the next step and ensures power remains with the profession itself. Professional associations from credit unions to universities already use binding referendums for major structural questions. Realtors should expect no less

The upside here is ownership: members feel the system is theirs, not something done to them.

The second beak: sunset clauses

In nature, unhelpful traits fade. In boards, outdated contracts linger. Sunset clauses create selection pressure. Major policies and multi-year agreements should expire by default, five years at most, with shorter horizons for volatile technology. Renewal must be justified in daylight, with outcomes, costs, and alternatives on the table, and member consent where impact is significant. Sunset clauses aren’t radical; they exist in legislation, in corporate debt covenants, even in tech vendor licensing. Their purpose is simple: to force daylight reviews and prevent bad contracts from becoming permanent fixtures.

The upside is agility: boards stay nimble, avoid vendor lock-in, and keep only what still serves the profession.

The third beak: brokerage centrality

Finches didn’t evolve their beaks to beautify nests. They evolved them to reach food.

 Brokerages carry the regulatory burden and answer to provincial regulators for compliance and consumer protection. Boards do not. That reality suggests a different division of labour. Boards are strongest when they focus on the commons, advocacy, professional standards, and data integrity, while brokerages take the lead on training, tools, and culture. That’s not a cutback for boards; it’s alignment with where accountability already lives in regulation. When roles are clear, duplication fades and members see better value on both sides. 

The fourth beak: a share-capital lens

New traits must withstand pressure. For boards, that means scrutiny. 

Publish director attendance and voting records. Tie long-term contracts to measurable outcomes and report them in member-facing dashboards. Commission independent value audits and treat external critique as feedback for improvement. This is not demutualization or privatization (though I find myself drawn to the potential upside of these). Boards would remain not-for-profit. What I’m suggesting is importing the accountability norms share-capital corporations already live under: director attendance and voting records, contract performance tied to measurable outcomes, and independent audits. It’s not about changing the structure; it’s about raising the standard.

The upside is trust earned through proof rather than slogans.

Extinction events: board edition

How can members tell whether a board has evolved or merely adapted? 

Ask whether the change survives a leadership transition or vanishes when faces change. Ask whether power, accountability, and transparency moved toward members or retreated behind closed doors. Ask whether Realtors are tangibly stronger, faster, and more credible in their markets because of it. 

If the answers line up with durability, redistribution of power, and professional fitness, the beak has changed.

Duty over drift

Growth is impressive and adaptation is often necessary, but neither change what an organism is. Boards are not ends in themselves. They are stewards of a profession. The duty is to strengthen the environment in which Realtors thrive.

That duty is fulfilled when boards evolve. Member referendums embed consent. Sunset clauses stop dead weight from calcifying. Brokerage centrality aligns responsibility with accountability. A share-capital lens proves value in daylight.

The profession deserves boards that evolve as surely as Darwin’s finches did, reshaped to thrive in their environment and stronger for the generation that follows.

Brandon Reay

Brandon Reay brings a multifaceted background in real estate practice, policy, and governance. Before stepping into brokerage leadership, Brandon spent several years in organized real estate, contributing to strategic initiatives and advocacy efforts with CREA and OREA, and various Chambers of Commerce. His work has included shaping housing policy, supporting regulatory reform, and improving REALTOR® engagement across the country.

Brandon’s approach blends hands-on brokerage experience with a systems-level understanding of how policy, market forces, and professional standards intersect. He is known for helping professionals navigate evolving market conditions and advocating for higher standards within the industry. In addition to his leadership role at RE/MAX Hallmark Realty Group, he remains an active REALTOR® focused on agent development, business strategy, and client service.

Brandon regularly contributes commentary on market trends to media outlets and industry publications and has served as a spokesperson on housing issues in Ottawa. He is also a frequent speaker at real estate events, offering data-driven insights on brokerage strategy, professionalism, and the future of the industry.

He holds a Master of Business Administration from the Sprott School of Business. Brandon lives in Ottawa, where he remains closely involved in local policy discussions on housing affordability and real estate governance.

The post Reay: What Darwin can teach us about real estate board evolution appeared first on REM.

While more people voted in favour, the proposal was defeated because it did not meet the required two-thirds approval.

“With an unprecedented number of members in attendance, we could not be prouder of the engagement of our membership,” said Mary Ambrose, president of the Kingston and Area Real Estate Association (KAREA).

The members voted on the proposed amalgamation with the Ottawa Real Estate Board, Renfrew County Real Estate Board, and the Rideau-St. Lawrence Real Estate Board.  

Of the 420 votes cast, 238 (56.6 per cent) were in favour and 182 were opposed, said Ambrose’s statement.

“We respect the decision of our members and remain committed to working collaboratively to strengthen our Association and support (Realtors) in delivering professional, informed service to their communities. We recognize the importance of ongoing dialogue about how best to serve our members’ evolving needs and to ensure the long-term sustainability and success of our industry.

“We thank all members who participated in this important decision and extend our appreciation to everyone who contributed time, energy, and ideas throughout this process.”

A special meeting of KAREA was held after its members did not reach the required number of votes in March to move forward with an amalgamation of neighbouring boards.

Of the nearly 300 votes in the first vote, 163 (55 per cent) were in favour of the amalgamation, failing to reach the 66 per cent majority required to pass. 

Seeking strength in numbers

Jason Clarke, with the Jason Clarke Real Estate Team, part of LPT (Listing Power Tools) Realty in Kingston, voted last Thursday for the amalgamation.

“I’ve experienced it on different boards and in different parts of the country. When it’s not unified, it just creates islands. It’s better to have everything united—it just makes business easier. You can sell more homes, and the customers get the most for their homes,” he said.

“That’s the reality. Whenever you’re making it more restrictive or harder, you’re just making it harder to sell homes. So I think it would’ve been a positive move to go ahead and do that.

“I was surprised. They’ve done it twice now, and both times the majority voted for amalgamation—but a majority isn’t enough.”

Carrie Brunet, a realtor with RE/MAX Finest Realty in Kingston, also voted in favour of the amalgamation.

“I just think in the future we’re going to need it. Because we’re all on our own right now. Kingston’s kind of on its own. Eventually, we’re going to have to amalgamate with somebody, so why not do it now, rather than wait until we’re forced to?”

Anne Caldwell of Royal LePage ProAlliance Realty in Kingston, said she, too, was in favour of the amalgamation.

“Mostly for reasons that were shared—basically, more of us equals a bigger voice. The sharing of information across the board, across different regions, is helpful. Especially for agents who don’t live within city limits. They’re servicing people in the Kingston area, but also maybe closer to Ottawa, because they live an hour between both places,” she said.

“I didn’t really look at all of the information that came to us over the last few months about this, but I think—I wasn’t opposed to the change. It does seem like all of the boards are growing. It just seems like every other sector of industry is doing this, so why not real estate?”

Caldwell said there seemed to be a lot of conflict among members over the issue when the first vote came up.

“I don’t know, for some reason I really thought it would’ve passed this time around,” she said.

Where did the idea come from?

In June 2024, members of the Kingston, Ottawa, Renfrew County and Rideau-St. Lawrence boards learned of a plan for regional integration, spearheaded by a task force made up of representatives from the four Eastern regional real estate boards.

The proposal focused on enhancing professional services, increasing advocacy, and better positioning members to meet evolving industry demands and opportunities.

In December 2024, each of the regional boards of directors gave tentative approval to a proposed amalgamation, pending affirmative voting results by the members of each board.

The Ottawa and Renfrew County boards voted in favour of the merger. 

The proposed amalgamation would create the third-largest real estate association in Ontario.

Cornwall and District Real Estate Board proposed the amalgamation to its members, but formally withdrew from the process before it went to an official vote.

Mario Toneguzzi

Mario Toneguzzi is a contributing writer for REM. He has more than 40 years of experience as a daily newspaper writer, columnist, and editor. He worked for 35 years at the Calgary Herald, covering sports, crime, politics, health, faith, city and breaking news, and business. He now works on his own as a freelance writer for several national publications and consultant in communications and media relations/training. Mario was named in 2021 as one of the Top 10 Business Journalists in the World by PR News – the only Canadian to make the list.

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