New legal loophole allows developers to shirk affordable housing obligations. Photo: Christopher Furlong, Getty
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Developers able to demolish affordable housing provision

A new law is allowing property developers to wriggle out of their affordable housing obligations.

A Bill that was quietly approved last year is allowing property developers to get out of their contractual agreements with local authorities to build or fund affordable homes.

The Growth and Infrastructure Act 2013 introduced new guidelines last April for developers to appeal their affordable housing obligations, if they could prove they would not make a “competitive return” on their developments if they adhered to them.

These obligations require developers to include a prescribed number of affordable homes in residential complexes they build, or else negotiate paying a subsidy to fund those affordable homes being built elsewhere in the nearby area.

Many people would agree that for councils to confer some responsibility for affordable homes onto developers in this way is only fair. After all, left to their own devices, most developers seek to maximise profits by focusing almost exclusively on building lucrative executive accommodation.

The new rules, shoe-horned into the Town and Country Planning Act, mean that residential developers can fight their way out of their obligations, despite having agreed them as a condition of gaining planning approval.

A developer simply has to argue that honouring their agreed contribution towards affordable housing has become commercially “unviable” for their business's development.

The government has introduced this loophole based on the idea that differing economic conditions between the planning stage of a development and its construction or completion can render initial agreements to build or fund affordable housing “unrealistic”.

Not only does the new appeals process seem unfair in offloading all commercial risk from developers on to local councils, but it also appears open to exploitation by rapacious developers who might present cases of confected “economic unviability” in order to maximise profits.

Some recent waivers issued by councils are worth examining. Last October Oldham Council was left £450,000 out of pocket after waiving the subsidy payment that developers Wiggett Construction had agreed to pay in lieu of making a fifth of homes in their new site in Greenfield “affordable”.

The company had originally agreed to pay £700,000 in three stages. Having paid the first installment of around £230,000, the company was due to pay the second upon the sale of the 45th property on the site. Oldham Metropolitan Council decided to waive the subsidy when Wiggett was just one house sale away from that benchmark, however, leading to outrage from local residents.

The same council also allowed another developer, Tamewater Developments, to escape paying more than £280,000 in agreed affordable housing subsidy earlier this month.

According to Construction News, 10 appeals are currently under consideration by the Planning Inspectorate to reduce or eliminate affordable housing obligations under the new law.

Among them are bids to remove requirements for 290 affordable homes in a Gloucestershire development and a £9 million contribution towards affordable housing in Blackpool.

As many developers are only just waking up to the possibilities of this new loophole, the impact on the number of affordable houses built is yet to be realised.

In order to appeal, developers must submit appropriate up-to-date evidence that overturns the original viability appraisal and indicates that they will not make a competitive return under current market conditions.

The crucial question is, of course, what benchmark profit margin equates to a “competitive" return? The government guidance does not spell it out. Industry experts suggest that most developers expect to make in the region of 20 per cent profit. Are local councils simply allowing developers to avoid paying their contribution towards affordable housing if it threatens their usual profit margin?

When the demand for affordable housing has reached such exorbitant and desperate levels as it has across the UK, developers should not be allowed to renege on promised contributions towards their provision whether it threatens their profit or not.

Lucy Fisher writes about politics and is the winner of the Anthony Howard Award 2013. She tweets @LOS_Fisher.

 

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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