Toronto is nothing if not reserved. Maybe it’s all the bank towers or the lingering effects of the city’s dour Scottish heritage. Whatever the reasons, Torontonians don’t like raised voices, and they don’t like to get physical.

Those traits may sound dull, but they’ve helped build a sophisticated city that is now a global model for civic harmony, despite one of the most ethnically and economically varied communities on the planet.

But there are plenty of signs that Toronto’s culture of civility — the main source of its all important stability — is being pushed to the limit. Over the summer, a Toronto Transit Commission bus was torched, à la Kabul, by an incensed rider who just happened to be carrying a bottle of highly flammable liquid. The provocation? Another rider had refused to spot him a token. This took place at Yonge and Bloor, the city’s main crossroads.

Michael Bryant, a Harvard-educated lawyer, former provincial attorney general and rising political star, was charged with criminal negligence causing death following an extraordinary altercation between a car and a cyclist in the city’s toniest shopping area.

A visitor to the Annex entertainment district, a few blocks from Queen’s Park and the University of Toronto, was fatally shot because he objected to being robbed.

Then there was the infamous garbage strike, which — despite causing remarkably little inconvenience, given the mountains of trash — provoked much hysteria all around. Even David Miller, the typically smooth mayor, lost it, erupting in anger when it appeared some city councillors might not ratify the proposed contract. All this, and it wasn’t even hot or muggy this year: in fact, the summer was unusually cool. This is a place that looks a lot like someone on the edge of a nervous breakdown. The question is: “Why?”

Maybe it’s the unemployment rate: 11.5% in July, up from 8.5% a year earlier and substantially higher than the rest of Ontario. Maybe it’s the soaring levels of commercial office vacancies and the ghostly, half-built condos all over town, graphic reminders of the stalled economy. Maybe it’s the swelling welfare rolls: at 88,390 over the summer, up from about 75,000 a year earlier.

It doesn’t help that multiple requests for federal and provincial assistance have mostly been met with indifference, even hostility; federal Transport Minister John Baird used the “F” word when referring to one Miller request for cash. And while Baird finally came through last month with $190 million for city projects, opponents noted that it was months late and well below the per capita rate for stimulus money allotted to other regions. Baird even rattled his sword at the same time, noting that future funds for non-profits will be cancelled if there is a fall election.

T.O. is having a moment, and it’s not a good one. The city lauded for its commerce, culture and diversity is scrambling to hold it together. It’s not all gloom. Miller is plowing ahead with plans for a vast new transit system that could finally vault Toronto into the top tier of global cities. The solvent banks are earning international laurels, and house sales are strong. That’s all good for Canada, as well as Toronto. But none of this is much comfort to the tide of youth without jobs, the widening pool of deeply discouraged business owners and the many non-profits that must cut back on badly-needed support.

Nickel and diming Toronto may score points for politicians in other parts of the country but it’s not only unfair, it’s bad for the national economy. Toronto is the single largest contributor to the national GDP and the third largest financial centre in North America. Other countries step up sharply when their leading cities start to stagger — it’s economics 101. Canada needs to do the same. IE