Housing: Building Progress

“Housing is a physical structure. Home is a psychological space.”

The two next two chapters are deliberately separate to reflect this understanding.

The chapter ‘Housing: Building Progress’ explores the macro-level reality of creating shelter on a mass scale—the policies, architectures, and large-scale projects. It’s about the tangible, physical structures that societies build.

In contrast, the chapter ‘Homes First: A Functioning Philosophy’ addresses the micro-level, human experience of a home. It is a philosophical argument for a specific policy, focusing on the intangible benefits of stability, dignity, and psychological security that a home provides.

Housing: Building Progress

Chapter 34.

The fundamental human need for shelter has, throughout history, often been seen as a privilege rather than a right. This tension continues to fuel a peculiar and frustrating bind for many aspiring homeowners in the UK today. While they pay out more in rent each month than a potential mortgage payment would be, they remain unable to get a mortgage. This paradox is a symptom of a dysfunctional housing market. As we remember William Gibson’s words, “The future is already here—it’s just not evenly distributed;” we see this rings true in housing. Functional and fiscally responsible models exist and have existed on a mass scale, but we are politically blind to them. The war against ignorance that we must fight is against the idea that a thriving housing market must be based on speculation rather than shelter. The UK’s history with mass housing, a journey fraught with both triumph and considerable challenge, offers lessons on what we must remember to build a better future.

Today, many aspiring homeowners in the UK find themselves in a peculiar and frustrating bind: they’re paying out more in rent each month than a potential mortgage payment would be, yet they remain unable to get a mortgage. This paradox is a symptom of a dysfunctional housing market, a phenomenon increasingly exacerbated by a massive, ongoing shift in who owns UK property. In the last decade, the proportion of homes owned by owner-occupiers has notably dropped as official statistics confirm. Meanwhile, the number of corporate Buy-to-Let companies, often backed by huge institutional and overseas capital, has surged, now surpassing 400,000 according to recent analyses.

While average private rents across the UK hit £1,386 per month in March 2025, a recent Zoopla analysis revealed that first-time buyers with a 20% deposit might pay around £1,038 a month on a mortgage for a typical starter home. The disconnect arises because mortgage lenders impose stringent affordability stress tests and demand substantial deposits. With the average first-time buyer deposit reaching over £61,000 in 2024, saving up becomes a monumental task when a significant portion of income is already consumed by high rental costs, trapping many in a seemingly endless cycle. These large entities increasingly view housing as one of the safest investment bets, especially during inflation, knowing that shelter is a fundamental human need that will always command demand.

Let’s look back at the foundations of Mass Housing. The notion of the state playing a central role in housing its citizens gained traction in the tumultuous 20th century, often driven by dire necessity. One such significant undertaking was in Eastern Europe, driven by necessity and scale. For much of Eastern Europe, the mid-20th century arrived with widespread pre-modern poverty. Millions endured rural huts or unsanitary urban tenements. Then, World War II inflicted unparalleled devastation, leaving vast swathes of cities like Warsaw and Leningrad in rubble and millions homeless. Unlike Western Europe, which benefited from the Marshall Plan, the East was left to rebuild from scratch, demanding rapid, affordable, and massive-scale solutions.

Their answer emerged in the form of standardised housing blocks – pre-fabricated housing units made from standardised concrete panels. Factories mass-produced these slabs, which were then assembled on-site, allowing entire buildings to rise in weeks. These apartments, though basic by Western standards, represented a monumental leap forward for millions, offering hot water, private kitchens, and individual bedrooms where previously only shared, unsanitary conditions had existed. More than mere shelters, these embodied a political promise: “every citizen deserves a home.” Urban planners designed comprehensive “micro-districts” complete with schools, clinics, shops, and public transport, pre-empting the modern “15-minute city” concept.

As Owen Hatherley explores in his critiques of Soviet and Eastern European architecture, these structures, often dismissed for their stark aesthetics, were a radical attempt at universal provision, prioritising functionality and social purpose over ornament. This speed came at a cost: thin walls, minimal individuality, and, crucially, a collapse in maintenance after the fall of socialism in the 1990s. Yet, their sheer endurance still provides shelter for millions, offering a poignant reminder of housing as a social good.

Parallel to this, Britain embarked on its own ambitious journey of state-led housing, a social revolution moving from slums to a welfare state vision. The Victorian era saw areas like London’s Shoreditch teeming with deprivation and notorious slums. Initially, blame for poverty often fell on the poor themselves, but mounting social unrest spurred a shift. The first Housing Acts began to lay the groundwork for a radical idea: could the state house its working classes? This vision began to materialise with the Boundary Estate in Shoreditch in 1893, Britain’s first council estate. While pioneering, its high rents meant it largely bypassed the most destitute.

The true national commitment emerged after the carnage of World War I, with Lloyd George’s promise of “homes fit for heroes” enshrined in the Housing and Town Planning Act of 1919. This mandated local authorities to meet the housing needs of their areas, a monumental undertaking requiring 700,000 new homes. Inspiration came from the Garden City movement, championed by social reformer Ebenezer Howard and architect Raymond Unwin. Unwin’s vision of individual houses with gardens, rather than dense tenements, influenced the design of inter-war council housing. His contributions to the Tudor Walters Report advocated for homes where every room had a specific purpose, prioritising healthy living environments. Estates like Becontree (1921-1932), which housed over 100,000 people, offered the luxury of running water, inside toilets, and private gardens for the first time. This era, while sometimes paternalistic with strict tenant handbooks, fostered immense pride and strong community bonds.

The post-World War II period saw an even grander vision under Aneurin Bevan, architect of the NHS. His aim was a welfare state where public housing was universal. This led to the creation of entirely new towns, like Stevenage (1946), providing homes and jobs for millions. The “working classes” clause was removed from the Housing Act in 1949, signalling a shift towards council housing for all. As land became scarcer in cities, the focus shifted from garden cottages to high-rise blocks from the mid-1950s. Architects embraced “streets in the sky” concepts, often with utopian intent, but these sometimes struggled to foster the community spirit of earlier estates – a critique famously articulated by urban theorist Jane Jacobs, who championed mixed-use, human-scale neighbourhoods over isolated, large-scale developments.

While Britain’s council housing programme was one of the most ambitious in the world, its trajectory was dramatically altered by the “Right to Buy” policy, introduced by Margaret Thatcher’s government in the Housing Act of 1980. This policy allowed council tenants to purchase their homes at substantial discounts, up to 70%. Its stated aims were to empower individuals, foster a “property-owning democracy,” and enable wealth creation for working-class families. Its long-term consequences for the UK’s social housing stock have been devastating. Since 1980, over 2 million council homes have been sold under the scheme. Crucially, the proceeds from these sales were not reinvested into building new social homes, leading to a massive net loss of genuinely affordable properties. For every five homes sold, often only one was replaced, and in some periods, the replacement rate was as low as 2%.

This continuous drain has led to over 1.3 million households currently on social housing waiting lists in England, with some areas facing waits of over 100 years for family-sized homes, and record numbers in expensive temporary accommodation. A proportion of these former council homes have also ended up in the hands of private landlords, who then rent them out at market rates. This has shifted many low-income households into the often less secure and more expensive private rented sector, causing the UK’s housing benefit bill to soar as the state subsidises private landlords for homes that were once publicly owned. The “Right to Buy” essentially privatised a vast public asset without adequate replacement mechanisms, severely diminishing Britain’s capacity to provide truly affordable homes.

While the long-term consequences of “Right to Buy” are clear and critiqued today, it’s important to acknowledge that the initial policy wasn’t inherently flawed in its aim. For many families, owning their council home offered a pathway to security, wealth accumulation, and personal autonomy – a dream long cherished in British society. The policy’s true failing lay not in this aspiration, but in two areas: first, the vulnerability of new homeowners to fluctuating economic conditions; and second, the systemic lack of investment in building replacement social housing stock. Without a robust programme to replenish the sold homes, the policy depleted the national affordable housing supply, exacerbating the very crisis it was meant to alleviate.

The very perception of a place’s value can be shaped more by its inhabitants than its intrinsic design. Nan Fairbrother, in her work New Lives, New Landscapes (1970), observed this when comparing London mews to Northern back-to-backs. Despite often sharing similar small footprints and high-density characteristics, mews were cherished and adapted into desirable residences for the affluent. In stark contrast, back-to-backs were often condemned and systematically cleared as slums. Fairbrother argued that the determining factor in their divergent fates was not their physical form, but the affluence and social standing of their occupants. This insight reveals how deeply class, perception, and historical context are interwoven into how we value our built surroundings.

A large-scale example of this interplay between ambition, social reality, and evolving perception is Sheffield’s Park Hill estate. Designed by Jack Lynn and Ivor Smith, it was a Brutalist vision intended to be a ‘streets in the sky’ community, re-housing working-class families with their original neighbours. Initially celebrated, Park Hill received accolades for its modern design and high resident satisfaction. As Sheffield’s steel industry declined and local authority funding tightened, the estate suffered from underinvestment and poor maintenance. The “streets in the sky” became less about community and more about disrepair, crime, and anti-social behaviour, leading to a widespread reputation as a “no-go area.”

Park Hill’s story did not end there. In 1998, it was granted Grade II* listed status, protecting it from demolition and acknowledging its architectural importance. A multi-phase regeneration led by Urban Splash began in the early 2000s, breathing new life into the estate. The renovation has restored the concrete frame, introduced vibrant coloured panels, and created a mix of homes for sale, rent, and shared ownership. It has fostered a more diverse and sustainable community, proving that even monumental structures can find an inspiring new life through thoughtful intervention. Park Hill now stands as a symbol of Brutalism’s legacy and the possibility of urban renewal when design is coupled with social ambition.

Beyond these historical shifts and architectural considerations, a more profound transformation is underway in the housing market: the increasing financialisation of shelter and the rise of corporate landlords. These aren’t simply individual investors; players like Grainger UK (whose largest shareholder is BlackRock, owning over 11,000 rental properties), Legal & General (claiming £3 billion poured into rental investments), and even Britain’s biggest bank, Lloyds (with over 5,000 rental properties), are buying entire blocks and streets. They inject vast sums of cash, artificially inflating values and monopolising local markets. This intensifies past phenomena like the Buy-to-Let boom, which previously empowered individual investors, but now sees billions poured in by corporations.

The long-term consequences of this trend are illustrated by the American experience. Following the 2008 financial crash, Wall Street firms like Blackstone and Invitation Homes aggressively acquired thousands of homes. Tenants in this system reported sudden rent increases of 30-40%, hidden monthly “junk fees” for basic administration, prolonged waits for essential repairs, and no ability to negotiate terms. This model, unfortunately, is already creeping into the UK, with small landlords selling up, families priced out, and larger corporate entities acquiring property at scale. This fundamental shift represents a transfer of wealth from families to financial institutions, from owner-occupiers to renting corporations. As the Chinese leadership has stated, “homes are for living, not for speculation.” In the West, however, we are financialising shelter. The more essential a need, the more profitable it becomes for institutions to control. This trend not only burdens individuals and families but also traps productive capital in non-productive assets, ultimately paralyzing the wider economy by reducing the disposable income available for more generative spending. It leads to less ownership, more rent dependence, and a rise in wealth inequality.

In response to this deepening crisis, the UK has sought various “hybrid” solutions. One prominent example is Shared Ownership. This scheme aims to help those who cannot afford to buy outright by allowing them to purchase a share of a property (initial from 10% to 75%) from a housing association, while paying rent on the unowned portion. It requires a smaller deposit and mortgage than a full purchase, making it accessible to those with household incomes typically up to £80,000 (or £90,000 in London). Buyers can then “staircase,” purchasing more shares over time. While Shared Ownership serves as a stepping stone to homeownership for many, it comes with complexities. Buyers are responsible for 100% of all maintenance from day one. Staircasing can be costly, and only a small proportion of shared owners (averaging 2.6% annually) actually reach 100% ownership. Resale can also be challenging. It’s a solution that attempts to bridge the gap, but its hybrid nature can sometimes lead to unexpected financial burdens and a less clear path to full homeownership than initially perceived.

As the UK grapples with these challenges, other nations offer alternative approaches. Vienna, in contrast to many global cities, consistently ranks as one of the most liveable and affordable major cities. Its success offers a blueprint for a “smart state” approach. Rather than relying solely on direct state ownership, Vienna champions a model of providing subsidies to private non-profit companies to build “social housing.” This system operates on several key principles. One is its Active Land Policy. The city proactively manages land prices by acquiring or mobilising reserves, then selling or leasing them to non-profit corporations at very low, affordable prices. This strategic intervention removes speculative profit from the land, allowing for genuinely affordable construction.

Another principle involves Subsidised Loans. Non-profit developers receive access to affordable loans for construction. This direct financial support reduces the burden of high interest rates and capital costs, ensuring that housing projects can be delivered within strict affordability parameters. Furthermore, Vienna champions Developer Competitions. This approach sees companies competing on multiple fronts: architectural quality, affordability, environmental performance, and social mix. This competitive process is a driver of innovation, pushing developers to deliver high-quality, low-cost designs that meet public objectives, and it drives down overall construction costs. A core tenet of Vienna’s approach is Inclusivity. Its social housing is designed as a “middle-class subsidy,” making it accessible to almost everyone, not just the poorest. This broad appeal prevents the stigmatisation often associated with public housing and ensures wide political support. Residents are not forced out of their homes if their income increases, which fosters stable, vibrant, and mixed communities. It is fiscally responsible because it addresses the core issue of stability and dignity for all, rather than funnelling billions into an unproductive housing benefit bill to subsidise private landlords, as the UK does today.

Vienna demonstrates a commitment to Intelligent Density and Maintenance. The city embraces a broad density, typically favouring buildings five to eight stories high, carefully balanced with public transport links and green spaces. This ensures liveability within a compact urban form. Beyond new construction, the city is dedicated to “gentle urban renewal,” actively maintaining its vast stock of over 500,000 affordable flats. This proactive approach prevents the decay and social decline that plagued many other public housing projects globally, ensuring that Vienna’s affordable housing remains comfortable, habitable, and climate-proof for generations. Vienna demonstrates that even in an era of a “smaller state” in terms of direct command-and-control, strategic intervention in land, finance, and regulation can effectively steer development towards affordability and quality for all.

Beyond national models for social housing, architectural innovation has also sought to redefine urban living. Habitat 67 in Montreal, Canada, designed by Moshe Safdie, stands as an iconic example. This modular, prefabricated concrete complex aimed to combine the benefits of suburban homes with the efficiency of high-density urban living. Each of its 354 identical, pre-cast concrete forms is arranged to create 158 unique residences, each with its own terrace. While not a model for mass housing due to its experimental nature, Habitat 67 symbolises the enduring quest to enhance quality of life and individuality within dense urban environments.

The diverse stories of Eastern European standardised housing blocks, British Council housing, Vienna’s contemporary model, and innovative projects like Habitat 67, though arising from different political systems and historical contexts, share a common thread: they represent massive attempts to address housing crises. All, in their own ways, succeeded in providing millions with modern, dignified homes. They prioritised the collective good and the basic right to shelter over purely market-driven profit. While criticisms are valid—from the aesthetic monotony of some blocks to the paternalistic rules of early British estates, and the devastating impact of “Right to Buy”—their initial impact was transformative. They were, for millions, a symbol of stability, security, and dignity.

Today, as the UK grapples with escalating housing unaffordability, record social housing waiting lists, and increasing homelessness—challenges exacerbated by the growing financialization of shelter and the monopolization by corporate landlords—the legacy of these 20th-century housing solutions offers lessons. They remind us that true societal progress is not merely about accumulating wealth for the few, but about ensuring basic necessities for all. The war we are fighting is not one of scarcity, but of ignorance—the ignorance that tells us we cannot afford to provide homes for our citizens when fiscally responsible models are already succeeding elsewhere. The historical record of these ambitious projects underscores the enduring importance of strategic collective action and a commitment to providing “enough for those who have too little,” counteracting the forces that turn shelter into mere speculation.

 

Next Chapter: Homes First: A Functioning Philosophy

Bibliography

Bevan, Aneurin. (Key political figure in UK post-WWII welfare state; his vision significantly influenced social housing).

Fairbrother, Nan, New Lives, New Landscapes, Architectural Press, 1970.

Hatherley, Owen. Landscapes of Communism: A History Through Buildings. (Representative work for his critiques of Soviet and Eastern European architecture).

Hatherley, Owen. Militant Modernism. (Another representative work for his critiques of Soviet and Eastern European architecture).

Howard, Ebenezer. (Social reformer, key figure in the Garden City movement).

Jacobs, Jane. The Death and Life of Great American Cities.

Le Corbusier. (Architect, conceptualised the “Unité d’habitation” which inspired Park Hill).

Safdie, Moshe. (Architect, designer of Habitat 67).

Unwin, Raymond. Town Planning in Practice: An Introduction to the Art of Designing Cities and Suburbs.

Zoopla analysis (for UK rent and first-time buyer mortgage data, March 2025).