Landlords have evolved, but the rules protecting renters are stuck in the past

The private rented sector has fundamentally changed over the past decade; yet the rules governing how it functions are rooted in the late 1980s.

After the passing of the 1988 Housing Act the size of the private rented sector stayed roughly the same in London. However, since 2001 it has risen by 75 per cent with one in four Londoners now renting privately.

The people living in the sector has also changed, renting is no longer the preserve of the young and economically mobile who previously welcomed its characteristic short-termism. Homeownership is now an increasingly distant dream for Londoners on better incomes, combined with the hollowing out of social housing this has forced those on lower incomes to rely on the private rented sector as well, often with significant subsidy from the state in the form of housing benefit.

The result is that many – if not most – now live in the sector out of necessity, not choice. We see the evidence of this in the emergence of "Generation Rent" and that 20 per cent of the recent growth in privately renting households has been from families with children.

We have one of the weakest sets of rules and regulations of comparable countries to protect private sector tenants. Yet, we also have one of the worst housing crises. The case for reform is clear; the question is not should we reform, but how we should reform the sector.

This week the London Assembly Housing and Regeneration Committee published its report on London’s private rented sector. The report suggests how we mitigate the worst insecurities of the private rented sector – most notably affordability, security of tenure and poor landlord practices. On rents, the committee wants the Mayor to seek regulations so he can pilot a mechanism for bringing stability and predictability to rent increases. While the committee is open to suggestions of how rent increases can be made more predictable, our starting point is the "second generation" regulations of rents – such as those used in Germany and Switzerland – where rent increases are linked to inflation or interest rates.

We are not proposing caps on rents. The proposal has drawn the scorn of City AM editor Alistar Heath, who described the proposal as “stupid”, “economic illiteracy” and “antiquated, quasi-Victorian class hatred of landlords”. Aside from the lazy mudslinging, Heath clearly hasn’t read our proposal, as he seems to think we’re proposing rent caps.

He presents a false choice between New York style rent caps and – what we proposed – second generation rent stabilisation. The evidence from other western economies, most notably Germany and Switzerland, is that such regulations produce much larger, affordable and better functioning private rented sectors than we currently enjoy in London.

As Mr Heath admits in his article London is currently suffering from a dysfunctional housing market. To put it another way, London’s rental sector is experiencing market failure, a point highlighted by Shelter’s report on rip-off letting agent fees. Given the scale of market failure in London’s housing market and the profitability of the sector for landlords, it is unlikely that a mechanism to stabilise rent (not cap rents) would negatively impact on overall supply – it hasn’t in other countries. We need more houses and flats, but we also need rent stabilisation.

Given that the private rented sector is now a permanent destination for many Londoners, particularly families, it is clear that private renters need to feel stable in their home.

That is why the committee has called for the abolition of a landlord’s right to "no fault eviction".

There are a myriad of legal recourses for landlords to evict tenants if they have a genuine reason for doing so. What is not acceptable is a landlord exercising their right to evict a tenant for absolutely no reason. Throughout the committee’s investigation we heard many cases of tenants evicted from properties for asking for repairs or improvements to a property.

Picture the situation; you are a parent of children who have their GCSEs coming up in two months. The boiler has broken and you have asked for it to be repaired. The landlord then exercises his right to "no fault eviction" to get rid of you, knowing full well other tenants will be in the property soon enough. Is it right that our regulations allow this to happen?

Of course, this report is not all about bashing bad landlords. Most landlords are good landlords, who treat their tenants well and invest in their housing stock. That is why the report has encouraged support for landlords – the Assembly is championing low-cost loans and access to reduced cost services – that will make their stock better and make it cheaper for them to operate.

Bringing sense to rent rises will not result in a catastrophic loss of homes – landlords will not just walk away. Hard-pressed tenants are questioning how other western countries can have better regulated sectors than we do, while also having a much larger, more affordable and better functioning private rented sector.

We must do the same in London, this problem isn’t going away and every day we wait more and more Londoners are being poorly treated and having to put up with poor conditions. We’ve had enough talking, now its time for action.

Photograph: Getty Images

Tom Copley is a Labour member of the London Assembly

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How Donald Trump is slouching towards the Republican nomination

There was supposed to be a ceiling above which Trump’s popular support could not climb.

In America, you can judge a crowd by its merchandise. Outside the Connecticut Convention Centre in Hartford, frail old men and brawny moms are selling “your Trump 45 football jerseys”, “your hats”, “your campaign buttons”. But the hottest item is a T-shirt bearing the slogan “Hillary sucks . . . but not like Monica!” and, on the back: “Trump that bitch!” Inside, beyond the checkpoint manned by the Transportation Security Administration and the secret service (“Good!” the man next to me says, when he sees the agents), is a family whose three kids, two of them girls, are wearing the Monica shirt.

Other people are content with the shirts they arrived in (“Waterboarding – baptising terrorists with freedom” and “If you don’t BLEED red, white and blue, take your bitch ass home!”). There are 80 chairs penned off for the elderly but everyone else is standing: guys in motorcycle and military gear, their arms folded; aspiring deal-makers, suited, on cellphones; giggling high-school fatsos, dressed fresh from the couch, grabbing M&M’s and Doritos from the movie-theatre-style concession stands. So many baseball hats; deep, bellicose chants of “Build the wall!” and “USA!”. (And, to the same rhythm, “Don-ald J!”)

A grizzled man in camouflage pants and combat boots, whose T-shirt – “Connecticut Militia III%” – confirms him as a member of the “patriot” movement, is talking to a zealous young girl in a short skirt, who came in dancing to “Uptown Girl”.

“Yeah, we were there for Operation American Spring,” he says. “Louis Farrakhan’s rally of hate . . .”

“And you’re a veteran?” she asks. “Thank you so much!”

Three hours will pass. A retired US marine will take the rostrum to growl, “God bless America – hoo-rah!”; “Uptown Girl” will play many more times (much like his speeches, Donald J’s playlist consists of a few items, repeated endlessly), before Trump finally looms in and asks the crowd: “Is this the greatest place on Earth?”

There was supposed to be a ceiling above which Trump’s popular support could not climb. Only a minority within a minority of Americans, it was assumed, could possibly be stupid enough to think a Trump presidency was a good idea. He won New Hampshire and South Carolina with over 30 per cent of the Republican vote, then took almost 46 per cent in Nevada. When he cleaned up on Super Tuesday in March, he was just shy of 50 per cent in Massachusetts; a week later, he took 47 per cent of the votes in Mississippi.

His rivals, who are useless individually, were meant to co-operate with each other and the national party to deny him the nomination. But Trump won four out of the five key states being contested on “Super-Duper Tuesday” on 15 March. Then, as talk turned to persuading and co-opting his delegates behind the scenes, Trump won New York with 60 per cent.

Now, the campaign is trying to present Trump as more “presidential”. According to his new manager, Paul Manafort, this requires him to appear in “more formal settings” – without, of course, diluting “the unique magic of Trump”. But whether or not he can resist denouncing the GOP and the “corrupt” primary system, and alluding to violence if he is baulked at at the convention, the new Trump will be much the same as the old.

Back in Hartford: “The Republicans wanna play cute with us, right? If I don’t make it, you’re gonna have millions of people that don’t vote for a Republican. They’re not gonna vote at all,” says Trump. “Hopefully that’s all, OK? Hopefully that’s all, but they’re very, very angry.”

This anger, which can supposedly be turned on anyone who gets in the way, has mainly been vented, so far, on the protesters who disrupt Trump’s rallies. “We’re not gonna be the dummies that lose all of our jobs now. We’re gonna be the smart ones. Oh, do you have one over there? There’s one of the dummies . . .”

There is a frenzied fluttering of Trump placards, off to his right. “Get ’em out! . . . Don’t hurt ’em – see how nice I am? . . . They really impede freedom of speech and it’s a disgrace. But the good news is, folks, it won’t be long. We’re just not taking it and it won’t be long.”

It is their removal by police, at Trump’s ostentatious behest, that causes the disruption, rather than the scarcely audible protesters. He seems to realise this, suddenly: “We should just let ’em . . . I’ll talk right over them, there’s no problem!” But it’s impossible to leave the protesters where they are, because it would not be safe. His crowd is too vicious.

Exit Trump, after exactly half an hour, inclusive of the many interruptions. His people seem uplifted but, out on the street, they are ambushed by a large counter-demonstration, with a booming drum and warlike banners and standards (“Black Lives Matter”; an image of the Virgin of Guadalupe, holding aloft Trump’s severed head). Here is the rest of the world, the real American world: young people, beautiful people, more female than male, every shade of skin colour. “F*** Donald Trump!” they chant.

After a horrified split-second, the Trump crowd, massively more numerous, rallies with “USA!” and – perplexingly, since one of the main themes of the speech it has just heard was the lack of jobs in Connecticut – “Get a job!” The two sides then mingle, unobstructed by police. Slanging matches break out that seem in every instance to humiliate the Trump supporter. “Go to college!” one demands. “Man, I am in college, I’m doin’ lovely!”

There is no violence, only this: some black boys are dancing, with liquid moves, to the sound of the drum. Four young Trump guys counter by stripping to their waists and jouncing around madly, their skin greenish-yellow under the street lights, screaming about the building of the wall. There was no alcohol inside; they’re drunk on whatever it is – the elixir of fascism, the unique magic of Trump. It’s a hyper but not at all happy drunk.

As with every other moment of the Trump campaign so far, it would have been merely some grade of the cringeworthy – the embarrassing, the revolting, the pitiful – were Trump not slouching closer and closer, with each of these moments, to his nomination. 

This article first appeared in the 28 April 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The new fascism