Why we must end the UK’s addiction to property

There is nothing aspirational or equitable about courting another recession.

They say an Englishman's home is his castle but the UK has a particular problem with our addiction to house-price inflation. Before the crash, house prices trebled in the space of a decade. Great for those that bought at the right time, but not for others.

As a nation, we are used to borrowing beyond our means. The UK mortgage market had the second-highest loan-to-value ratio of any OECD country before the financial crisis.

At a household level, first-time buyers who were offered 125 per cent mortgages and found themselves in negative equity following the crash.

There are roughly a million people who owe more than their homes are now worth. UK households still have more mortgage debt, relative to their income, than households in any other major economy.

There have been four housing bubbles in the UK in the past 40 years. They can be hard to spot but they invariably lead to economic bust when they burst. Macroeconomic stability matters and volatility in the UK's housing market has played a destabilising role.

One solution is to increase the supply of housing, as proposed by Kate Barker in her landmark 2004 review. But while building extra houses is absolutely necessary to constrain excessive house-price growth in the long term, housebuilding is slow to take effect. But we also have to tackle demand. And housing market demand is mediated by the availability of mortgages.

A new IPPR report published today, Forever Blowing Bubbles? Housing's Role in the UK Economy, argues that policymakers need to learn the lessons of the credit crunch. The report argues that the UK's addiction to house-price inflation is bad for the economy and that a central plank of government economic policy should be to ensure that there is greater stability in house prices.

Regulation to end speculation

IPPR's critics suggest that such an approach threatens to thwart aspiration and hinder social mobility. But there is nothing aspirational or equitable about courting another recession. And there is absolutely no reason to believe that the next housing bubble will serve first-time buyers any better than the last.

The onset of loose lending around 1999/2000 correlated strongly with the start of a downward trend in the number of first-time buyers. Far from helping home ownership, it drove it further out of their reach.

Conflating aspiration with higher levels of mortgage debt is a mistake. People with high levels of debt – notably high loan-to-value ratios – are much more likely to fall into negative equity.

Monetary policy has a part to play – house prices should be a more explicit consideration in its formulation – but it is a blunt instrument, with the hikes in interest rates needed to dampen future housing booms likely to come at the cost of excessive pain to the wider economy.

Fiscal policy – such as stamp duty or council tax – is certainly important in egalitarian and distributive terms, but tangential in terms of its actual impact on house pricing, and politically highly fraught.

The Joseph Rowntree Foundation's Housing Market Taskforce concluded its work earlier this month with some interesting recommendations on property taxes. But mortgage regulation is the most important tool in controlling demand in the housing market.

Deposit requirements on buy-to-let mortgages should be raised and lenders should ensure that rents cover repayments. Small-time speculators seeking a fast buck in the form of excessive capital gains from the buy-to-let market need to be deterred. Instead, we should be encouraging institutional investors into a more professional and more secure private rented sector to build to let.

Short-term thinking

In particular, when it comes to mortgage lending, the government and regulators need to hold firm in the face of industry lobbying and impose a 90 per cent cap on loan-to-value ratios and a 3.5 times cap on loan-to-income. Put simply, a mortgage of no more than £90,000 could be lent to buy a home worth £100,000 and a couple where each is earning £25,000 could borrow no more than £175,000.

We need to strike the right balance, allowing people to take out affordable mortgages while reducing the risk of excessive borrowing creating instability in the economy as a whole.

Mortgages are usually a 25-year commitment and high loan-to-income ratios allow borrowers to take out large mortgages that appear affordable at very low interest rates, but with no guarantee that interest rates will remain low, heightening the risk of defaults and repossessions. A 90 per cent loan-to-value ratio allows for a 10 per cent fall in the price of the investment before negative equity takes hold.

As Shelter has found, this is an argument that first-time buyers support, even though it may make it more difficult for them to get on to the housing ladder. They recognise that loose lending and cheap credit are a recipe for future instability both in our housing market and in our wider economy.

Andy Hull is a senior research fellow at IPPR.

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How to think about the EU result if you voted Remain

A belief in democracy means accepting the crowd is wiser than you are as an individual. 

I voted Remain, I feel sick about this result and its implications for what’s to come. But I’m a believer in democracy. This post is about how to reconcile those two things (it’s a bit unstructured because I’m working it out as I go, and I’m not sure I agree with all of it).

Democracy isn’t just fairer than other systems of governance, it’s smarter. It leads to better decisions and better outcomes, on average and over the long run, than countries that are run by autocrats or councils of wise men with jobs for life. It is simply the best way we have yet devised of solving complex problems involving many people. On that topic, if you’re not averse to some rather dense and technical prose, read this post or seek out this book. But the central argument is that democracy is the best way of harnessing ‘cognitive diversity’ — bringing to bear many different perspectives on a problem, each of which are very partial in themselves, but add up to something more than any one wise person.

I don’t think you can truly be a believer in democracy unless you accept that the people, collectively, are smarter than you are. That’s hard. It’s easy to say you believe in the popular will, right up until the popular will does something REALLY STUPID. The hard thing is not just to ‘accept the result’ but to accept that the majority who voted for that result know or understand something better than you. But they do. You are just one person, after all, and try as you might to expand your perspective with reading (and some try harder than others) you can’t see everything. So if a vote goes against you, you need to reflect on the possibility you got it wrong in some way. If I look at the results of past general elections and referendums, for instance, I now see they were all pretty much the right calls, including those where I voted the other way.

One way to think about the vote is that it has forced a slightly more equitable distribution of anxiety and alienation upon the country. After Thursday, I feel more insecure about my future, and that of my family. I also feel like a foreigner in my own country — that there’s this whole massive swathe of people out there who don’t think like me at all and probably don’t like me. I feel like a big decision about my life has been imposed on me by nameless people out there. But of course, this is exactly how many of those very people have been feeling for years, and at a much higher level of intensity. Democracy forces us to try on each other’s clothes. I could have carried on quite happily ignoring the unhappiness of much of the country but I can’t ignore this.

I’m seeing a lot of people on Twitter and in the press bemoaning how ill-informed people were, talking about a ‘post-factual democracy’. Well, maybe, though I think that requires further investigation - democracy has always been a dirty dishonest business. But surely the great thing about Thursday that so many people voted — including many, many people who might have felt disenfranchised from a system that hasn’t been serving them well. I’m not sure you’re truly a democrat if you don’t take at least a tiny bit of delight in seeing people so far from the centres of power tipping the polity upside down and giving it a shake. Would it have been better or worse for the country if Remain had won because only informed middle-class people voted? It might have felt better for people like me, it might actually have been better, economically, for everyone. But it would have indicated a deeper rot in our democracy than do the problems with our national information environment (which I accept are real).

I’m not quite saying ‘the people are always right’ — at least, I don’t think it was wrong to vote to stay in the EU. I still believe we should have Remained and I’m worried about what we’ve got ourselves into by getting out. But I am saying they may have been right to use this opportunity — the only one they were given — to send an unignorable signal to the powers-that-be that things aren’t working. You might say general elections are the place for that, but our particular system isn’t suited to change things on which there is a broad consensus between the two main parties.

Ian Leslie is a writer, author of CURIOUS: The Desire to Know and Why Your Future Depends On It, and writer/presenter of BBC R4's Before They Were Famous.