High house prices are putting off couples from having children

Shelter research shows 63 per cent more families are feeling the squeeze.

It’s a sad reality that in Britain we get used to putting up with the impact that the high cost of housing has on our lives. We accept having to spend an hour getting to and from work every day as we can’t afford to live any closer to our jobs. We think of the family homes we grew up in with nostalgia rather than aspiration, accepting we are unlikely to live anywhere similar. We pay half our salaries to keep up with our rent or mortgage, leaving little over for the rest of our lives.

However this week another impact has come to light that has serious implications for both individual families and for society as a whole. New research we have carried out at Shelter has identified a staggering 63 per cent increase in the number of people putting off having children because of the lack of affordable housing. Over a million people are delaying having a family because of housing costs. And we’re not just talking for a few months – one in four of those delaying said they have been doing so for more than five years.

Being in my mid-thirties, this is a picture I can identify with. I have seen numerous friends wanting to start families but unwilling to do so until they can buy their own home, not seeing their rented flat as a suitable place to raise a child. Others have had to move away from their families to be able to buy a home and start a family, having to give up the support networks and childcare options that are so important for young families. Some have had one child and stopped there, not out of choice but because they couldn’t afford to live anywhere that could accommodate more children.

And these are all people who work hard, who save, who do everything they can but who still can’t achieve the security and stability that was a given for previous generations.

So what can be done?

Clearly the high cost of owning your own home is not going to change overnight. So the million families renting (a number which has almost doubled in the past five years) need to ensure a rented place can feel like a suitable home to start and raise a family in. Landlords can evict them or raise the rent at any time. When you have children to consider, particularly if they are school age, for many this is just not a workable option.

Longer term we need action to bring down the cost of buying a home. Decades of underinvestment have left the supply and demand for affordable homes completely out of kilter. Earlier this month we saw levels of housebuilding fall yet again, down almost a quarter over the past year. When people’s lives are being put on hold in this way, this is simply not sustainable. We must see more homes being built that families across the country can afford so we can put a halt to this deeply concerning trend.

Children gaze down the stairwell of a 1950s slum; but poor family housing isn't consigned to history. Photograph: Getty Images

Anna is the head of press at Shelter.

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A swimming pool and a bleeding toe put my medical competency in doubt

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Sometimes the search engine wins. 

The brutal heatwave affecting southern Europe this summer has become known among locals as “Lucifer”. Having just returned from Italy, I fully understand the nickname. An early excursion caused the beginnings of sunstroke, so we abandoned plans to explore the cultural heritage of the Amalfi region and strayed no further than five metres from the hotel pool for the rest of the week.

The children were delighted, particularly my 12-year-old stepdaughter, Gracie, who proceeded to spend hours at a time playing in the water. Towelling herself after one long session, she noticed something odd.

“What’s happened there?” she asked, holding her foot aloft in front of my face.

I inspected the proffered appendage: on the underside of her big toe was an oblong area of glistening red flesh that looked like a chunk of raw steak.

“Did you injure it?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt at all.”

I shrugged and said she must have grazed it. She wasn’t convinced, pointing out that she would remember if she had done that. She has great faith in plasters, though, and once it was dressed she forgot all about it. I dismissed it, too, assuming it was one of those things.

By the end of the next day, the pulp on the underside of all of her toes looked the same. As the doctor in the family, I felt under some pressure to come up with an explanation. I made up something about burns from the hot paving slabs around the pool. Gracie didn’t say as much, but her look suggested a dawning scepticism over my claims to hold a medical degree.

The next day, Gracie and her new-found holiday playmate, Eve, abruptly terminated a marathon piggy-in-the-middle session in the pool with Eve’s dad. “Our feet are bleeding,” they announced, somewhat incredulously. Sure enough, bright-red blood was flowing, apparently painlessly, from the bottoms of their big toes.

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Often, what patients discover on the internet causes them undue alarm, and our role is to provide context and reassurance. But not infrequently, people come across information that outstrips our knowledge. On my return from our room with fresh supplies of plasters, my wife looked up from her sun lounger with an air of quiet amusement.

“It’s called ‘pool toe’,” she said, handing me her iPhone. The page she had tracked down described the girls’ situation exactly: friction burns, most commonly seen in children, caused by repetitive hopping about on the abrasive floors of swimming pools. Doctors practising in hot countries must see it all the time. I doubt it presents often to British GPs.

I remained puzzled about the lack of pain. The injuries looked bad, but neither Gracie nor Eve was particularly bothered. Here the internet drew a blank, but I suspect it has to do with the “pruning” of our skin that we’re all familiar with after a soak in the bath. This only occurs over the pulps of our fingers and toes. It was once thought to be caused by water diffusing into skin cells, making them swell, but the truth is far more fascinating.

The wrinkling is an active process, triggered by immersion, in which the blood supply to the pulp regions is switched off, causing the skin there to shrink and pucker. This creates the biological equivalent of tyre treads on our fingers and toes and markedly improves our grip – of great evolutionary advantage when grasping slippery fish in a river, or if trying to maintain balance on slick wet rocks.

The flip side of this is much greater friction, leading to abrasion of the skin through repeated micro-trauma. And the lack of blood flow causes nerves to shut down, depriving us of the pain that would otherwise alert us to the ongoing tissue damage. An adaptation that helped our ancestors hunt in rivers proves considerably less use on a modern summer holiday.

I may not have seen much of the local heritage, but the trip to Italy taught me something new all the same. 

This article first appeared in the 17 August 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump goes nuclear