Where social housing meets the working poor

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Graph supplied by the Grattan Institute

I suppose you have been waiting for me to wax eloquent about the Federal Government’s $10 billion housing plan and why don’t they get on with it?

Don’t blame me. I didn’t vote for The Greens, who seem to think their role in government is to block legislation just because they can. The Greens MPs in Parliament want the Federal Government to freeze rentals for two years. This seems to be predicated on some naïve proposition that the Labor Premiers buddy up with the Feds and persuade the others to fall in line.

What part of States Rights do they not understand? As Prime Minister Anthony Albanese rightly says, the Federal Government could not impose a nation-wide freeze on rentals even if it wanted to. The mechanism for such a move lies with the respective State and Territory governments. I can’t imagine that telling the landlords (and developers) in their constituencies that they can’t raise rents for two years would help State or Territory government re-election chances next time round. Having said that, the Australian Capital Territory has implemented a rent ‘cap’ so anything’s possible.

The Bill, which stalled through lack of support in June, has been tabled again this week although not much has changed. There is talk (at chat show level) of a double dissolution – that is, Mr Albanese will go early to the people and let them decide. Unlikely.

There are a few things to note about the Housing Australia Future Fund. For one thing it’s not a new idea. The $10 billion fund was an election promise, which means its formation goes back well before 2020. We already had a Future Fund (which primarily invests in the share market and in commercial property). The Labor Government’s plan to co-opt this fund into investing in the volatile housing market has made it a target for the Coalition and dissident independents.

One of the issues as I see it is the Bill has been designed as an economic/financial policy instrument. Given the size and severity of the housing problem in this country (affordability, rental housing shortages and homelessness), it should have been designed foremost as social policy, letting the numbers take care of themselves, as numbers do.

The Greens are not alone in their critique of the Albanese government’s housing policy. Numerous housing advocates say that despite the size of the Housing Australia Future Fund, it will scarcely touch the sides of the problem. The legislation promises 30,000 new social and affordable houses in the first five years. Once the fund starts generating returns, more social and affordable projects can be started.  And as Housing (and Homelessness) Minister Julie Collins added, this will include 4,000 homes for women and children affected by family and domestic violence, or older women at risk of homelessness.

That’s all very well, but numerous reports concur that the current social housing need is for more than 100,000 dwellings. A report by the National Housing Finance and Investment Corporation (NHFIC) showed that Australia is facing a shortfall of 104,000 houses in the next five years. This is brought about primarily because the construction industry can’t keep up with demand. Then there are mitigating factors like rising interest rates and the ever-increasing cost of raw materials.

This glum forecast came at a time (April) when rental vacancy rates in every capital city in Australia were at or below 1% (Ed: and likewise in regional cities and towns). Bad weather in 2022 added to the woes of builders; some of whom closed their doors, leaving home buyers with half-finished dwellings and cost over-runs.

The NHFIC is forecasting 1.8 million new households over the next decade, with just 148,500 new dwellings added this financial year. The total will drop to 127,500 in 2024-25, with the biggest drop in apartments and multi-density dwellings (40% down on levels experienced in late 2010).

In 2021, the Grattan Institute took a futuristic look at how we could build 100,000 social housing dwellings by 2040. As you can see by the table above, this would depend entirely on State and Territory government assigning matching contributions.

Grattan Institute economic policy director Brendan Coates wrote:

“If matched state funding was forthcoming, the Future Fund could provide 6,000 social homes a year – enough to stabilise the social housing share of the total housing stock. It would double the total social housing build to 48,000 new homes by 2030, and 108,000 by 2040.”

Four Corners should do an investigation on what exactly is meant by the terms ‘social, affordable and community housing’ and who benefits. Once upon a time there was just public housing. It was owned by the government and traditionally leased to people who were on government pensions and unlikely or unable to find paid work. The rental for people in these circumstances was traditionally struck at 25% of income. The Department of Human Services also calculates rent assistance for people in this category. Now, however, we have public/private partnerships which develop ‘affordable’ or ‘community housing’ properties. While the rents charged to these properties still look attractive (to those in the private market), it can represent up to 40% of disability or aged pension income. The properties are typically built new by private developers on land bought or provided by the relevant Government (or Council). These projects are financed by investors, so even though the housing provider may be a ‘not for profit’, the profit motive is inherent, whereas with public housing it is not.

Whatever the Federal Government and its State and Territory counterparts are going to do about social housing, they’d best get on with it. The Australian Housing and Urban Research Institute (AHURI) has estimated that the need for future social housing will be 1.1 million dwellings by 2037.

The 2021 Census recorded there were almost 350,000 social housing dwellings across Australia (just under 4% of the number of all households), at the end of June 2021.

AHURI recently reported there were 165,000 applicants on the waiting lists for public housing, more than 40,000 applicants for community housing and just over 12,000 applicants for State owned and managed Indigenous housing.

“If we add together all the households on the waiting list and those already in social housing, we find that over half a million (close to 565,000, or just over 6%), Australian households were living in, or had requested to live in, a form of social housing.”

All that aside, there is the ever-growing cohort of ‘working poor’ – Australian families where one or both parents have jobs. But their household income can’t keep up with high private market rentals and the cost of living in general. Not to mention the 1.8 million Australian households Roy Morgan Research says are at risk of mortgage stress.

No quick fixes in sight although the CFMEU (one of the country’s last robust unions), wants the government to impose a Super Profits tax on the top echelon of companies.

The Guardian reported that CFMEU says a super profits tax of 40% of excess profits would ‘comfortably’ cover the cost of building more than 750,000 new social and affordable homes.

The CFMEU revealed this bold plan last week at the National Press Club, tabling a commissioned report by Oxford Economics. The report assumed that a permanent 40% tax on excess profits on companies with over $100m annual turnover, would raise an average $29bn a year, enough to fund the construction of 53,000 new homes each year.

Yep, that’ll happen.

 

 

Homeless or “Houseless”

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Goondiwindi Showground at dusk, photo Bob Wilson

I felt obliged to write about the vexed topic of homelessness after witnessing people sleeping rough in Queensland’s small towns. It shouldn’t happen, but it does.

The stereotype of a homeless person is the hobo asleep in the doorway of a city store, worldly goods in two carrier bags as a pillow. The reality is closer to an unhappy teenager, couch surfing with friends, or an 60+ women in a van on her own. Or Mum and two kids living in their car in a small town where they are less likely to be hassled. She’s cooking stew on a two-ring propane stove at the local park while using a public power point to charge her mobile. The kids are running about, being kids.

As we all should know, the official data (at the last Census in 2016), confirmed there were 116,000 people in Australia who were defined as homeless. However, the Australian Homelessness Monitor 2020 estimated the numbers had climbed to 290,000 by the close of 2018-2019 – that’s one in 86 people.

Queensland has big challenges when it comes to helping the homeless. The state is so physically large (1.835 million square kilometres) that social workers can sometimes rack up a 1,300 km round trip just to see one client.

This FOMM started forming after we watched the Academy Award winning movie, Nomadland, on Sunday night.

Emerging into a chilly early evening I said, “Better get home and light a fire,” despite being well aware our cosy brick house doesn’t yet need much heating (Warwick recorded 1degree Celsius last night-Ed).

Nomadland, if you have not seen it, is a docu-drama focusing on a 61-year-old widow, Fern, who has joined the legions of people known in the US as van-dwellers. Fern has been hit by a quadruple whammy: husband dies, factory closes, job goes, town is abandoned.

Left with a house she cannot sell, Fern hits the road in a beat-up van she has modified for her own purposes.

In Australia she’d be known as a Grey Nomad, although as in the US there are two distinct classes of traveller. First there are the well-to-do nomads, able to afford a big road rig with all the trimmings. Most often they are self-funded retirees, letting their hair down after a lifetime working. In the US they’d probably be known as Snowbirds (wintering in Arizona).

The other type of nomad, perhaps like those portrayed in Nomadland, live permanently on the road, in whatever style of motor-home or caravan they can afford. Like Fern, these people do not regard themselves as homeless (so are therefore not a statistic).

They favour free camps, recreation reserves and roadside rest areas where local governments have sanctioned overnight stays.

Some just pull off into the bush, far enough away that they cannot be seen from the road. In Australia, free camps will usually have a toilet; some may have a shower and a few have electricity. Fees range from nothing to $10 or $15 a night, the latter usually only applying to camps that have power and showers.

So while we toured around playing at being nomads, in Nomadland, Fern lives permanently with these restrictions and more. In one scene she is tucked away in her camper van at night eating a pizza when a man creeps up and peers through the van window. Then he hammers on the door.

“You can’t park here!”

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving.

In Australia, our version of van-dwellers gather together in large numbers at the better known “free” camps. They also favour the physical space and lack of bureaucracy found at local showgrounds. These facilities are popular with big rigs (buses, motor homes and fifth-wheelers). If you own such a vehicle it is hard to find a caravan park which can accommodate an 8m-long van plus towing vehicle.

In Goondiwindi, I counted 50 rigs staying overnight at the showgrounds on the edge of town, close enough to the highway to hear the constant roar of heavy traffic. For $25 we got a powered site, TV reception and (as always out west), patchy mobile reception. There was a camp kitchen, toilets and showers and a separate toilet and shower with disabled access. Also the all-important dump point (for vans with chemical toilets).

Many small town showgrounds charge between $15 and $20 a night, less if not using power. It is often an honour system, with no way of knowing how many people came in after dark and left before dawn.

It’s probably impossible to establish how many Grey Nomads live permanently in their vans and own no real estate. They’re not homeless as long as the money holds out and the vehicle does not break down. As Fern explains to someone who is hiring casual staff – “No, I’m not homeless – I’m houseless.”

According to Tourism Research Australia, about 2.6 million Grey Nomad trips were taken by 55 to 70-year-old domestic travellers in 2019. This was up 12% on the previous year. As we found on our journey north in 2021, restrictions on international travel are accelerating this growth.

In a  submission to the Inquiry into Homelessness in Australia, the Queensland Government stated that in 2018-19 , one in 116 people in the state received homelessness assistance.

While this was much lower than the national rate of one in 86 people, it shows an increase from the previous year.”

The submission said that 55% of Housing Register applications had been identified as being at risk of homelessness.

Homelessness in Queensland is driven in part by housing affordability pressures, increased cost of living, stalling wages growth and welfare payments that don’t keep pace with the cost of living.

The majority of the 43,000 people seeking Special Homelessness Services (SHS) were spread among three cities (Brisbane, Townsville and Cairns) and seven regional centres.

Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders accounted for 33% (14,432) of all those seeking SHS (40% men and 60% women).

The largest cohorts seeking help were people fleeing domestic and family violence (31%), people with mental health issues (27%) and young people aged 15-24 (20%). My demographic accounted for just 6% (2,676), men and women (50/50) aged between 55 and 70.

I always had this somewhat romantic notion that being homeless and sleeping rough in tropical Queensland might not be a hardship. I said as much in the lyrics of Big Country Town: “We caught the ferry back to Main Street, there’s fellas sleeping in the park, beneath the blanket of the summer, they’re safe and warm there in the dark.”

Well, maybe in the height of summer, but on this caravan trip we shivered through a few single figure nights. As many Grey Nomads would know, sub-zero night temperatures are common in the interior of the country.

Meanwhile, as autumn turns to winter in Warwick, charities are doing their best to fill the gaps in services for those suffering hardship. Volunteers from the Seventh Day Adventist Church take their Community Van to Leslie Park every Sunday evening. The Salvation Army organises a ‘community gathering’ every Saturday, offering “a free meal, a positive and practical message and friendship.” These well attended free meal sessions attract more people than one might expect in a town of 15,000. Until you remember than one in 116 Queenslanders were homeless in 2018-2019, and that was before the pandemic.

More reading

https://bobwords.com.au/tales-of-quarantine-and-homelessness/

https://www.abc.net.au/news/2021-04-17/queensland-homeless-crisis-rental-shelter/100074284

Footnote; The Conversation, which I often cite, is on a donation drive to ensure it can continue providing independent, academically sound, not-for-profit journalism. https://donate.theconversation.com/au