There was a time when Realtor meant something. It conjured images of polished professionals, steady hands on the tiller, people guided by ethics, not ego.
Today, the word feels less like a badge of honour and more like a brand you’d whisper about at a cocktail party before someone asks, “Oh, are you one of those?”
A shared word with split reputations
Canada’s real estate professionals use the word Realtor by permission. It is not ours. The trademark is co-owned by the Canadian Real Estate Association (CREA) and the National Association of Realtors (NAR) in the United States. CREA’s financial statements show no money changing hands through their joint company, Realtor Canada Inc., but the symbolic connection is undeniable.
And lately, that connection has been a problem.
Over the past two years, NAR has been mired in scandal, not the petty variety, but the kind that burns trust to the ground. Multiple U.S. class-action lawsuits have accused NAR of price-fixing and collusion around commission structures, culminating in a massive settlement that could reshape how real estate is practiced across America.
While those legal battles play out, an even darker story has emerged: the sexual harassment and workplace abuse scandal that forced NAR president Kenny Parcell to resign in 2023.
When leadership fails
The New York Times investigation that broke the story read like something out of a corporate horror novel. Former employees described a culture of fear and silence, where senior executives faced repeated accusations of harassment and retaliation. Parcell allegedly sent explicit messages to subordinates, made unwanted advances, and fostered what insiders called a “boys’-club environment.” NAR apologized, launched internal reviews, and promised reform. But the damage was done. The organization built to uphold ethics could not even uphold its own.
For Canadian agents watching from across the border, the embarrassment is hard to ignore. The public does not parse the difference between CREA and NAR. To most consumers, a Realtor is a Realtor. When NAR sinks, the whole fleet lists with it.
When allies walk away
Redfin’s decision to cut ties with NAR in 2023 was a turning point. CEO Glenn Kelman had tried for years to reform the organization from within, pushing for transparency and modernization. Instead, he was met with resistance, outdated commission policies, and, as he said, “a pattern of alleged sexual harassment that betrayed the ideals the association was founded on.”
So Redfin left. Not quietly, not diplomatically, but with a statement that echoed across the industry: “Enough is enough.”
It was not just about money or antitrust risk. It was about integrity. If one of the largest, most visible brokerages in America could no longer stomach the association, what does that say about the health of the brand itself?
Control without independence is not freedom
Here in Canada, CREA controls the trademark rights to the word Realtor, but not the narrative. We carry a name that is not truly ours, tied to an organization in another country that keeps proving it cannot manage its own moral compass.
We do not pay dues to NAR, but we pay something harder to measure — reputational cost. Every time another headline breaks, Canadian agents brace for the fallout. Conversations with clients shift from home values to ethics. The word that once distinguished us now puts us on the defensive.
Who am I to say so?
I am a new agent. My licence cuts me if I turn around too fast. I have not worn off the corners or creased it into the soft parchment that comes with a dozen years in the field. I came into this industry through being an assistant in the aughts, then a real estate photographer in this decade. Three generations of my family have worked in real estate. My grandfather was a bit of a shark in the Lower Mainland, back when women did not do this job.
I debated getting my licence for a long time because, to be honest, this profession has baggage. Maybe it was getting licensed through the NAR lawsuit era, or maybe it was the public perception of what we do, but it gave me pause.
I’m passionate about finding people homes, but I’m not passionate about the wince that sometimes comes with the word Realtor. You will not find Realtor in my branding, and I do not use it with clients. That is my choice. I am not asking every agent to redo their signs and billboards — that expense in this market!? But what I want to do is plant a seed.
It is time to build our own brand
The easy answer is to say “it is just a word.” But language matters. Words carry reputation, and reputation builds trust or erodes it. When the word Realtor drags behind it lawsuits, harassment scandals, and tone-deaf apologies, maybe it is time to ask if we still need it. The word Realtor ties us to NAR’s shenanigans, and if 2025 has taught us anything, it is that a strong Canadian identity is important.
Imagine rebranding the profession under a distinctly Canadian identity — one that does not require shared custody with an organization still trying to find its moral footing. A name that signals independence, modern ethics, and national pride. Something that says, “We represent our clients and our communities, not another country’s baggage.”
The word Realtor once stood for something bigger. But words can lose their meaning. Maybe the most professional thing we can do now is outgrow it.
After all, integrity is not trademarked. And maybe, finally, it’s time Canadians stopped renting their professional identity from the United States of America.
Lauren has lived in Canada, Germany, Italy, France, Mexico, Belize and Thailand—an eclectic résumé that includes time as a frustrated architectural photographer and a business English educator (really… the intellectual equivalent of a ski instructor). Now based in the South Okanagan, she channels her lifelong curiosity and eye for design into real estate, helping clients see the beauty and potential in every property. She loves alternative forms of housing, and even more, helping people with furry friends find the perfect place. Equal parts pragmatist and dreamer, she believes that finding the right home isn’t just a transaction—it’s an act of translation between space and soul.