A row of houses in the north of England. Photo: Getty Images
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The government's plans are nothing short of an attack on social housing

Social housing used not to be the preserve of the few. That's a ideal worth harking back to, says Tom Copley.

There were some good things in George Osborne's budget. Scrapping non-dom tax status (a Labour manifesto pledge rubbished by the Tories at the time), reducing mortgage interest tax relief for private landlords and increasing tax relief for homeowners who rent out a room. The former two will dampen demand for property and the latter will encourage more efficient use of housing stock.

But let's turn to the bad and the ugly. This budget is the continuation of an all-out assault on social housing by the Conservatives. It began under the Coalition when the affordable housing grant was cut by 60 per cent. Housing Associations were told to introduce the so-called "Affordable Rent" at up to 80 per cent of market rent, and make up the shortfall in funding to build new homes with borrowing.

Then came the last minute Tory election pledge to extend Right to Buy to Housing Association tenants. Even with the £100,000 discount paid for by the government, this will erode Housing Associations' asset bases and thus their ability to borrow the very money they need to make up for the cut in grant from the government. This week's surprise announcement of a government imposed one  per cent annual cut in social rents further erodes their finances and thus their ability to build.

I support cutting rents for social tenants. In fact I, along with nearly every borough in London – red, yellow and blue – vehemently opposed the decision the Chancellor’s previous Government took in 2011 to essentially redefine social housing as anything charging up to 80 per cent of market rent. But the harsh reality is that without any subsequent increase in grant it will mean fewer much needed affordable homes being built - 27,000 fewer according to the National Housing Federation.

George Osborne lamented the 20 per cent rise in social rents since 2010. Yet it was he who agreed a ten year inflation plus one per cent rent increase with Housing Associations in 2013. To renege on that agreement now will plunge the social housing sector into chaos, and may result in a judicial review. Unsurprisingly he had not a word to say about sky high private sector rents.

Turning to councils, they will be forced to sell high value properties to pay for the discounts for Housing Association tenants exercising their new Right to Buy. In practise this means that any new council homes built by inner London boroughs like Islington will have to be immediately sold off as they will all be worth more than the government's regional cap.

Taken in isolation the imposition of one of these policies may be regarded as merely misguided. But taken together is difficult to see this package of measures as anything other than a deliberate attempt to sabotage the delivery of social housing. First they cut government grant and told Housing Associations to make up the difference with more borrowing and higher rents. Now they're undermining the Associations' borrowing ability and forcing them to cut rents.

Meanwhile, all social tenants who earn above £40,000 in London or £30,000 outside will be forced to pay market rent for their homes. This Aspiration Tax will discourage social tenants from earning more for fear of losing their homes. It will encourage others to exercise the Right to Buy, meaning yet more social housing will be lost forever. Work and benefits are not two different lifestyle choices. People move between the two. Social housing is supposed to provide stability for those who can't or don't wish to own a home. Getting a new job or a pay rise shouldn't put the stability of that home at risk.

The Tory justification for charging better-off tenants market rents is to say it's wrong for them to get subsidised rents. This is wilfully misleading. Unlike the Tories' huge Right to Buy discounts, social rent is not subsidised. It covers the maintenance, management and debt repayments of the home. We must be careful not to look at this problem down the wrong end of the telescope. The problem isn't that social rents are too low, but that market rents are too high. The real solution to high market rents is to build more genuinely affordable housing, a goal which this budget makes even harder to achieve.

George Osborne's plan may yet fall apart. The Office for Budgetary Responsibility warned in its budget overview that his meddling with Housing Associations may see the ONS reclassify them from private to public organisations, bringing £60 billion of their debt onto the government's books. But if it goes ahead the legacy will be even fewer new genuinely affordable homes than we're building now.

At the root of this lies a fundamental debate about what social housing is for. The Conservative view is that it is housing for the poor and that anyone with "aspiration" should leave it, whether they wish to or not. Yet before it became so scarce many middle class people lived in social housing. Nye Bevan's dream for council housing was of the "living tapestry of the mixed community." It was a noble dream indeed.

Tom Copley is a Labour member of the London Assembly

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We argue over Charlie Gard, but forget those spending whole lives caring for a disabled child

The everyday misery of care work is hidden behind abstract arguments over life and death.

“Sometimes,” says the mother, “I wish we’d let him go. Or that he’d just been allowed to slip away.” The father agrees, sometimes. So too does the child, who is not a child any more.

On good days, nobody thinks this way, but not all days are good. There have been bright spots during the course of the past four decades, occasional moments of real hope, but now everyone is tired, everyone is old and the mundane work of loving takes a ferocious toll.

When we talk about caring for sick children, we usually mean minors. It’s easiest that way. That for some parents, the exhaustion and intensity of those first days with a newborn never, ever ends – that you can be in your fifties, sixties, seventies, caring for a child in their twenties, thirties, forties – is not something the rest of us want to think about.

It’s hard to romanticise devotion strung out over that many hopeless, sleepless nights. Better to imagine the tragic mother holding on to the infant who still fits in her loving arms, not the son who’s now twice her size, himself edging towards middle-age and the cliff edge that comes when mummy’s no longer around.

Writing on the tragic case of Charlie Gard, the Guardian’s Giles Fraser claims that he would “rain fire on the whole world to hold my child for a day longer”. The Gard case, he argues, has “set the cool rational compassion of judicial judgement and clinical expertise against the passion of parental love”: “Which is why those who have never smelled the specific perfume of Charlie’s neck, those who have never held him tight or wept and prayed over his welfare, are deemed better placed to determine how he is to live and die.”

This may be true. It may also be true that right now, countless parents who have smelled their own child’s specific perfume, held them tightly, wept for them, loved them beyond all measure, are wishing only for that child’s suffering to end. What of their love? What of their reluctance to set the world aflame for one day more? And what of their need for a life of their own, away from the fantasies of those who’ll passionately defend a parent’s right to keep their child alive but won’t be there at 5am, night after night, cleaning out feeding tubes and mopping up shit?

Parental – in particular, maternal – devotion is seen as an endlessly renewable resource. A real parent never gets tired of loving. A real parent never wonders whether actually, all things considered, it might have caused less suffering for a child never to have been born at all. Such thoughts are impermissible, not least because they’re dangerous. Everyone’s life matters. Nonetheless, there are parents who have these thoughts, not because they don’t love their children, but because they do.

Reporting on the Gard case reminds me of the sanitised image we have of what constitutes the life of a parent of a sick child. It’s impossible not to feel enormous compassion for Charlie’s parents. As the mother of a toddler, I know that in a similar situation I’d have been torn apart. It’s not difficult to look at photos of Charlie and imagine one’s own child in his place. All babies are small and helpless; all babies cry out to be held.

But attitudes change as children get older. In the case of my own family, I noticed a real dropping away of support for my parents and disabled brother as the latter moved into adulthood. There were people who briefly picked him up as a kind of project and then, upon realising that there would be no schmaltzy ending to the story, dropped him again. Love and compassion don’t conquer all, patience runs out and dignity is clearly best respected from a distance.

All too often, the everyday misery of care work is hidden behind abstract arguments over who gets the right to decide whether an individual lives or dies. I don’t know any parents who truly want that right. Not only would it be morally untenable, it’s also a misrepresentation of what their struggles really are and mean.

What many parents who remain lifelong carers need is adequate respite support, a space in which to talk honestly, and the recognition that actually, sometimes loving is a grim and hopeless pursuit. Those who romanticise parental love – who, like Fraser, wallow in heroic portrayals of “battling, devoted parents” – do nothing to alleviate the suffering of those whose love mingles with resentment, exhaustion and sheer loneliness.

There are parents out there who, just occasionally, would be willing to set the world on fire to have a day’s respite from loving. But regardless of whether your child lives or dies, love never ends. 

Glosswitch is a feminist mother of three who works in publishing.