A general view of housing in Brixton on January 30, 2013. Photograph: Getty Images.
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We need rent controls to solve London's housing crisis

Too many essential workers are being priced out of the capital. Rent controls could address the uncertainty and unaffordability they face.

In an unusual break from the disagreement, dissent and bickering that pervades politics, consensus has broken out amongst policy makers in the capital: London is in the midst of a housing crisis.

The facts are stark. Private rents in London have risen nine per cent since December 2011. Property price growth has returned to pre-2008 levels and is on the brink of exceeding it.Higher rents make it difficult to save a deposit, and rapid house price growth pushes the size of that deposit further and further out of reach. Indeed, those two factors combined mean that the projected average age by which a young person will be able to buy their first home in London is now 52. Sixty six per cent of first home buyers are supported by the bank of Mum and Dad in order to afford a deposit.

London has reached the point where the cost of housing is affecting productivity growth. We are on the cusp of having to bus in cleaners, retails workers and hospitality staff from the Shires because those on low incomes cannot afford London rents. Londoners on average already spend more than half of their income on paying their rent or mortgage. Not only does that disincentivise the best and brightest teachers and nurses from living in London, it also significantly reduces the disposable income of those with the highest propensity to spend, threatening the future of the retail sector in particular and the economic recovery in general.

London clearly needs to build more homes. A report by London Councils found we have 283,000 too few homes in London now, and we will need a further 526,000 by 2021 to cope with a growing population. But building hundreds of thousands of homes will not happen in the very short- term; meanwhile, Londoners are struggling to pay their rent.  With the monthly rent for a one-bedroom flat in Wandsworth sitting well above £1,100, it has become patently obvious that London needs some form of rent control.

But let me be clear about what I mean when I talk about rent control. I don’t mean the old-school "first generation" rent control that was introduced in the UK during the Great War, which prevents any increase in rents, diminishes investment returns in real-terms over time, and discourages people from becoming landlords. I don’t mean the type of rent control that keeps rents so low that they are not enough to pay for the proper maintenance of a home in a liveable condition. I mean rent controls that nod to the market but allow for the realities of what it is to have a home to live in; the type that are espoused by those who could hardly be called left-wing ideologues, including Angela Merkel and Michael Bloomberg.

Currently in London, a family can move into a home at an expensive but affordable rent. The landlord cannot evict them (except for non-payment of rent) for six months. But after a year that landlord can raise the rent as high as he or she would like to; the rent could be doubled without any notice to the tenant family, putting it completely out of the range of affordability. The family is obliged, then, to move house, move their childrens’ school, probably move to a different part of London, and pay another round of letting fees, bonds and two-months-rent-in-advance. The other option is to seek the landlord’s permission to sublet one of their bedrooms to another family, adding one more to the 207,000 London households already living in overcrowded conditions.

There is an alternative. Take, for example, the German system of rent controls. Renters have indefinite tenancies; a tenant can only be evicted for non payment of rent (over a number of months), damage to the property, unauthorised subletting, or to allow the landlord or a member of his or her family to live in the home or to sell the home. It is in the interests of a landlord to retain their current tenant because the costs of letting agents are borne by the landlord.  The initial rent is set by the market, but cannot be more than 20 per cent higher than similar properties in the area. Rents can be raised according to inflation or due to an increase in the landlord’s costs, but by no more than 20 per cent in any three-year period.  Further, proper maintenance of the property by the landlord is incentivised; a tenant only pays 100 per cent of the rent if the home is in 100 per cent good condition. Perhaps a system like Germany’s is exactly what London needs to address the uncertainty and unaffordability faced by tenants in our private rented sector.

A common criticism of rent controls is that they discourage investment in the private rented sector. But British history since the deregulation of the rental market in the late 80s has shown that argument to be flawed; 89 per cent of landlords are individuals or couples, not builders or developers. In general, they buy pre-existing properties as an investment or nest egg.  They aren’t the part of the housing market that builds new homes in London, though they do compete against first homebuyers for existing properties. The fact that more rental accommodation has not been built in London, with its high rent prices, shows the inelasticity of housing supply in London which has more to do with cautious developers, the planning process, and a scarcity of developable land than it does with rent prices.  

To encourage investment in new homes (rather than locking up investment equity in pre-existing houses), there could be concessions to rent controls on new developments. Maybe rent controls should not apply to any new property built after 1 January 2014. Or maybe they should not apply to the first tenant of any new development; that will have the added benefit of encouraging longer term leases by property developers.

We need to start getting serious about how to address the housing crisis in London, because it’s not just those on minimum wage or housing benefit that are struggling to afford to live here. Teachers, civil servants, retailers and service workers essential to the running of our city are all threatened by the crisis. Though not a silver bullet that will singlehandedly solve the crisis, we should think about how rent controls – done sensibly – can be part of a comprehensive plan to ensure that all Londoners can afford a home in our city.

David Lammy is Labour MP for Tottenham

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Erdogan’s purge was too big and too organised to be a mere reaction to the failed coup

There is a specific word for the melancholy of Istanbul. The city is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. 

Even at the worst of times Istanbul is a beautiful city, and the Bosphorus is a remarkable stretch of sea. Turks get very irritated if you call it a river. They are right. The Bosphorus has a life and energy that a river could never equal. Spend five minutes watching the Bosphorus and you can understand why Orhan Pamuk, Turkey’s Nobel laureate for literature, became fixated by it as he grew up, tracking the movements of the ocean-going vessels, the warships and the freighters as they steamed between Asia and Europe.

I went to an Ottoman palace on the Asian side of the Bosphorus, waiting to interview the former prime minister Ahmet Davu­toglu. He was pushed out of office two months ago by President Recep Tayyip Erdogan when he appeared to be too wedded to the clauses in the Turkish constitution which say that the prime minister is the head of government and the president is a ceremonial head of state. Erdogan was happy with that when he was prime minister. But now he’s president, he wants to change the constitution. If Erdogan can win the vote in parliament he will, in effect, be rubber-stamping the reality he has created since he became president. In the days since the attempted coup, no one has had any doubt about who is the power in the land.

 

City of melancholy

The view from the Ottoman palace was magnificent. Beneath a luscious, pine-shaded garden an oil tanker plied its way towards the Black Sea. Small ferries dodged across the sea lanes. It was not, I hasten to add, Davutoglu’s private residence. It had just been borrowed, for the backdrop. But it reminded a Turkish friend of something she had heard once from the AKP, Erdogan’s ruling party: that they would not rest until they were living in the apartments with balconies and gardens overlooking the Bosphorus that had always been the preserve of the secular elite they wanted to replace.

Pamuk also writes about hüzün, the melancholy that afflicts the citizens of Istanbul. It comes, he says, from the city’s history and its decline, the foghorns on the Bosphorus, from tumbledown walls that have been ruins since the fall of the Byzantine empire, unemployed men in tea houses, covered women waiting for buses that never come, pelting rain and dark evenings: the city’s whole fabric and all the lives within it. “My starting point,” Pamuk wrote, “was the emotion that a child might feel while looking through a steamy window.”

Istanbul is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. In Pamuk’s work the citizens of Istanbul take a perverse pride in hüzün. No one in Istanbul, or elsewhere in Turkey, can draw comfort from what is happening now. Erdogan’s opponents wonder what kind of future they can have in his Turkey. I think I sensed it, too, in the triumphalist crowds of Erdogan supporters that have been gathering day after day since the coup was defeated.

 

Down with the generals

Erdogan’s opponents are not downcast because the coup failed; a big reason why it did was that it had no public support. Turks know way too much about the authoritarian ways of military rule to want it back. The melancholy is because Erdogan is using the coup to entrench himself even more deeply in power. The purge looks too far-reaching, too organised and too big to have been a quick reaction to the attempt on his power. Instead it seems to be a plan that was waiting to be used.

Turkey is a deeply unhappy country. It is hard to imagine now, but when the Arab uprisings happened in 2011 it seemed to be a model for the Middle East. It had elections and an economy that worked and grew. When I asked Davutoglu around that time whether there would be a new Ottoman sphere of influence for the 21st century, he smiled modestly, denied any such ambition and went on to explain that the 2011 uprisings were the true succession to the Ottoman empire. A century of European, and then American, domination was ending. It had been a false start in Middle Eastern history. Now it was back on track. The people of the region were deciding their futures, and perhaps Turkey would have a role, almost like a big brother.

Turkey’s position – straddling east and west, facing Europe and Asia – is the key to its history and its future. It could be, should be, a rock of stability in a desperately un­stable part of the world. But it isn’t, and that is a problem for all of us.

 

Contagion of war

The coup did not come out of a clear sky. Turkey was in deep crisis before the attempt was made. Part of the problem has come from Erdogan’s divisive policies. He has led the AKP to successive election victories since it first won in 2002. But the policies of his governments have not been inclusive. As long as his supporters are happy, the president seems unconcerned about the resentment and opposition he is generating on the other side of politics.

Perhaps that was inevitable. His mission, as a political Islamist, was to change the country, to end the power of secular elites, including the army, which had been dominant since Mustafa Kemal Atatürk created modern Turkey after the collapse of the Ottoman empire. And there is also the influence of chaos and war in the Middle East. Turkey has borders with Iraq and Syria, and is deeply involved in their wars. The borders do not stop the contagion of violence. Hundreds of people have died in the past year in bomb attacks in Turkish cities, some carried out by the jihadists of so-called Islamic State, and some sent by Kurdish separatists working under the PKK.

It is a horrible mix. Erdogan might be able to deal with it better if he had used the attempted coup to try to unite Turkey. All the parliamentary parties condemned it. But instead, he has turned the power of the state against his opponents. More rough times lie ahead.

Jeremy Bowen is the BBC’s Middle East editor. He tweets @bowenbbc

This article first appeared in the 28 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Summer Double Issue