Help to Buy will inflate another housing bubble

One major part of the scheme, hurriedly brought forward by three months in an attempt to counter Labour’s populist announcements, is potentially toxic.

The Conservative Party has spent the past fortnight accusing Labour of reviving 1970s-style socialism in the form of policies such as a temporary freeze in energy prices. The irony is that it has done so while undertaking the largest-ever state intervention in the housing market. With the introduction of its Help to Buy scheme, the government that arrived in office committed to rebalancing the economy away from its reliance on property and private debt has adopted a policy that will encourage the reverse.

The first part of the scheme, which came into effect in April, is a justified intervention. By allowing buyers to borrow 20 per cent of the value of a new-build home worth up to £600,000, the government is seeking to incentivise housebuilding, which last year stood at its lowest level since the 1920s. After six months, it has had some success. In September, construction activity grew at its fastest rate since November 2003, helping to stimulate growth and employment.

It is the second part of the scheme, hurriedly brought forward by three months in an attempt to counter Labour’s populist announcements, that is potentially toxic. George Osborne, ostensibly a fiscal conservative, has issued £12bn of state guarantees for up to £130bn of mortgage lending. The offer applies to all properties, whether new-build or not, and will allow buyers to purchase homes worth up to £600,000 provided they make a deposit of at least 5 per cent.

In an attempt to emulate the success of Margaret Thatcher, whose Right to Buy council house scheme increased the Tories’ electoral fortunes among low- and middle-income groups, David Cameron has presented the intervention as one aimed at supporting first-time buyers. He declared during the Conservative conference: “As Prime Minister I am not going to stand by while people’s aspirations to get on the housing ladder are being trashed.”

Yet the early signs are that Help to Buy will do less to aid would-be buyers than Mr Cameron suggests. Those banks participating in the scheme are offering interest rates around 5 per cent, above the level that many can afford when average earnings are still 1.7 points below inflation. As such, the policy risks acting primarily as a subsidy for existing homeowners seeking to trade up or to borrow against the value of their property. Mr Osborne’s decision to set the cap for aid at £600,000, when the average house price is £172,000, is evidence that he is more concerned with creating a pre-election feel-good factor among Tory-leaning owners than he is with aiding firsttime buyers.

Even as it allows some to make it on to the ladder, the scheme risks blocking the route for others by further widening the gulf between prices and earnings.

David Cameron meets two first time buyers as the Government launches the Help to Buy scheme. Image: Getty

This article first appeared in the 11 October 2013 issue of the New Statesman, Iran vs Israel

Felipe Araujo
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Hull revisited: What happens when a Brexit stronghold becomes City of Culture?

We report from Hull, to find out if you can replace the kind of nostalgia that led to a Leave vote with cultural investment.

At 75 metres long, the offshore wind turbine blade erected across Queen Victoria Square, in the heart of Hull, is a sculpture intended to mark a new chapter in the city’s history. For the next 12 months, Hull, a city of more than a quarter of a million people in the northeast of England, will be the UK’s City of Culture.

The 28-tonne blade hails from the local Siemens plant. The German technology company employs around 1,000 people in the area, making it Hull’s biggest single employer.

Seen up close in this context – laid dormant in the middle of a town square instead of spinning up in the air generating energy – the structure is meant to remind passersby of a giant sea creature. It is also, I’m told, an allusion to Hull’s rich maritime history.


All photos: Felipe Araujo

Nostalgia is a big thing in this part of the country. At one point, Hull was the UK’s third largest port but technology and privatisation drastically changed that. The battle over cod fishing with Iceland in the waters of the North Sea 40 years ago has also dealt a major blow to a region with a long and proud trawling tradition.

People here still talk about a bygone era when the fishing industry provided jobs for everyone and there was enough money to go around.

Fast forward to 2017, and the country’s new capital of culture is the same city that voted 67 per cent in favour of leaving the EU last June. Its new-found prestige, it seems, is not enough to erase years of neglect by a political class “too busy for commoners like us”, as one resident puts it.

“More than a message to Brussels, it [the Brexit vote] was a message to Westminster,” Paul Leeson-Taylor, a filmmaker born and bred in Hull, tells me. “For the first time in a long time people in Hull felt like they had the chance to change something, and they took it.”

But while speaking to people on the high street and hanging out with locals at the Community Boxing Club in Orchard Park, one of the city’s most deprived areas, there is one word that consistently popped up in conversation – more than any specific policy from Westminster or the much-hated rules “dictated” by Brussels. Foreigners.

According to official figures, Hull’s population is 89.1 per cent white British. Still, immigration is big on people’s minds here.

During my two-day stay in the city, I find myself being the only black person in most places I visit – I’m certainly the only black guy at the boxing club. So when someone begins a sentence with “I’m not racist but…”, I know a tirade on immigrants is about to ensue.

“There are just too many of them,” Nick Beach, an estate agent whose Polish clientele is a big part of his business, tells me as he is about to teach a boxing class to local children. Beach was born in Shepherd’s Bush, in West London, but has been living in Hull for the last 20 years.

“When I go down there these days and go into Westfield shopping centre, it is very rare you get an English person serving you now,” he says. “I just find it disappointing that you go into your capital city and you are a minority there.”

These are the much-discussed “left behind”, a white working-class community that has gained particular prominence in a time of Brexit and Donald Trump. Under economic pressure and facing social change, they want to have their say in running a country they claim to no longer recognise.

For Professor Simon Lee, a senior politics lecturer at the University of Hull, immigration is only a superficial layer when it comes to explaining the resentment I witness here. For him, the loss of the empire 70 years ago is still something that as a country Britain hasn’t come to terms with.

“The reason for us to be together as a United Kingdom has gone, so what is the project?”

As destiny would have it, a foreign company will now play a major role on Hull’s economic future, at least in the short term. In the wake of the Brexit vote, there were widespread fears Siemens would pull out of the region and take its factory elsewhere. With the massive blade looming large in the background, Jason Speedy, director of the blade factory in Hull, assures me that isn’t the case.

“The Brexit decision has made no difference. We have made our investment decision, so Siemens, together with the Association of British Ports, has put in £310m. It’s all full steam ahead.”

As Hull becomes the country’s cultural hub for the next few months, the hope is that its residents stop looking back and start looking forward.

For Professor Lee, though, until there is a complete change in the power structures that run the country, the north-south divide will remain – with or without the EU. “The way you kill nostalgia is to have something new,” he said. “The reason why people here are nostalgic is because there is nothing to replace it with.”

Felipe Araujo is a freelance journalist based in London. He writes about race, culture and sports. He covered the Rio Olympics and Paralympics on the ground for the New Statesman. He tweets @felipethejourno.