At one of the apartments that Nayan Das visited in the hope of finding another relatively short term home, having pretty much given up on owning a home, he met another prospective tenant who seemed a bit panicked. She had just a week to go before being officially homeless. Should he give up his application in her favour?
“If people cannot be pragmatically optimistic, then being a pessimist is not bad either. Superficial optimism often has a much more depressing influence than pessimism.” – Yevgeny Yevtushenko
Most days, I am optimistic. And why not – I have little to complain about. Relatively speaking, I live in one of the greatest places on Earth – Australia. Beautiful beaches, dreamy night skies, and friendly people. Unfortunately, even the best places have flaws, and I am concerned about the housing crisis we have been facing since the onset of the COVID-19 lockdowns.
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I am not alone in this. According to a survey conducted by SEC Newgate, the mood of the nation is not positive, and housing affordability remains a source of anxiety for many.
The thing is people, Down Under tend to be laid-back and community oriented. Too often, this nicety of ordinary people has been taken for granted by those responsible for housing reform. Years of housing policy announcements have yet to ease the strain many are feeling.
Instead, the crisis continues to deepen, spreading far and wide. As an ordinary Australian, how can I be optimistic about this situation?
So, I write – not out of pessimism, but out of concern.
Housing crisis
Let us zoom out from Australia for a moment. The shortage of affordable housing is a global problem. The World Economic Forum recognises this issue and calls for nations to rethink their solutions. It highlights the paradoxical nature of the issue: one news article laments the housing crisis, while another, right beside it, displays a luxury home selling for millions of dollars.
Let us consider the housing scenario in Europe. House prices have risen sharply over the last decade. Young Europeans are struggling to enter homeownership. I tend not to compare Australia with Europe, as the two continents are geographically and demographically different. However, there are similarities when we examine the state of housing, and there are lessons to learn from Europe.
In the 1980s, the median Australian house price was $40,000, and average yearly earnings were $12,000. A house, therefore, costs roughly 3.6 times the average salary.
Today, the median house price is almost 7.5 times average earnings.
To make matters worse, a January 2026 report by Cotality indicates that property prices in Australia will continue climbing. Sadly, there is no similar optimism for wage growth.
I do not envy those who secured their dream homes. I have immense respect for them, as they show what is possible. What concerns me is the growing section of our population that remains outside the property market. For this group, the finish line is not in sight. It is like a mirage – the closer you get, the farther it moves away.
How could a hard-working Aussie even dream of owning a home?
Rental crisis
As I was writing this piece, I was in the middle of moving from one rental place to another.
My landlord decided to sell her place – which meant I had to pack up and leave.
This part of the story is personal to me, and emotional too. Not because I am a renter, not because I received a notice to leave, but because I am witnessing many crises within the housing crisis. The rental crisis, the financial crisis, and the one that often gets missed by the national media – the health crisis.
A particular incident during my rental move really touched me. At one of the apartment inspections I attended, I met a young woman who was keen to submit her application for the same apartment. She looked anxious. I approached her for a casual chat. She was friendly and kind in her words. She mentioned she had lost hope of homeownership and was now struggling to find a decent place to rent.
She was in a rush, having sacrificed her work lunchtime to attend the inspection. She told me she had been going to many inspections for some time. She needed a place within a week; otherwise, she risked becoming homeless.
As I was applying for this place, I felt sad and helpless. I did not want to compete with her.
Yes, she was no friend to me. But she seemed like a kind human being. She was one of us. I felt compelled to give her situation some thought. I would have panicked if I were in her situation. Luckily, I had four weeks in hand. I could have forgone the application for her.
But did I? Perhaps. Perhaps not. There is no memory without guilt.
The rental crisis is real. One in three people lives in rental properties. Among OECD countries, Australia ranks among the top for the highest proportion of population renting in the private sector.
Rents are at historic highs, while vacancy rates remain extremely low, leaving renters with
very few options. To add insult to injury, renters are now paying nearly 35 per cent of their income on rent, pushing many towards financial strain. That is a considerable proportion of anyone’s salary.
Health crisis
The state of housing in this nation is causing health problems ranging from mental illness to asthma. As a lifetime renter, I often wonder if I will ever have a place to call my own. Short-term leasing periods and the lack of tenure security prohibit long-term life planning.
These conditions can create psychological stress. I deal with them as they come. But should I always have to?
Also, renters do not have much say as to how energy efficient their place can be. Most Australian homes are not energy efficient. Even though these homes were acceptable in the 1950s, the accelerated nature of climate change meant the most vulnerable communities were up against the wrath of nature. In this case, renters are among the most vulnerable.
It is no secret that Australia can become really hot in summer. It also gets really cold in winter. Obviously, we do not have snowfalls everywhere – but it gets cold enough in Sydney that I shiver even under a blanket.
Unfortunately, too many renters like me suffer during extreme weather conditions. Many properties in colder climates, particularly in Tasmania and Victoria, are prone to mould formation. Such conditions present serious health risks.
Even where I live in Sydney, I have to use mould cleaner spray on shower curtains and around the edges of the wash basin and taps. This is because bathroom spaces in some apartments have very little ventilation to prevent mould growth. What is even more ironic is that when I report it to the owner or property agent, they simply ask me to keep the windows open for ventilation.
What a paradox in winter – do I open the window and freeze, or keep it closed and let the mould grow?
Most rental properties have basic features like single-glazed aluminium windows and poor roof insulation. In Australian homes, single-glazed windows can account for up to 87 per cent of heat gain in summer and 40 per cent of heat loss in winter.
Can we possibly live in a house with no windows? Surely not. We need windows for daylight and connection to the outside world. The problem here extends beyond just windows and roof insulation. It is the imbalance of power between renters and owners.
With rents already at record highs and expensive upgrade works, who would take the costly step to install energy-efficient features?
There is compelling evidence that poor housing puts people at risk of illness. The health crisis is real.
Is there hope for renters like me?
I will admit that I am not here with an answer to Australia’s housing problem. It is wiser to admit being the “fool” than to offer impractical advice.
My hope lies with ordinary Australians who come together and face adversity like a family. Organisations such as Habitat for Humanity repurpose unused accommodation to provide temporary but secure shelter to victims of domestic violence. Some of these shelters are built to high standards of accessibility and usability. This gives me hope.
My hope also lies with future policymakers who may study best practices from around the world and adapt them thoughtfully to our communities, especially for the vulnerable.
Australia is a remarkable country. We have the capacity to build better – not just more.
There are initiatives such as A Better Deal for Renters introduced by the government in an attempt to strengthen protections for renters. These measures include limiting rent increases to once per year and restricting no-grounds evictions. Whether they will be sufficient remains to be seen.
In Europe, the need for adequate housing has been recognised at the parliamentary level as a fundamental human right.3 I value the recognition of housing not merely as property, but as dignity.
I acknowledge that there are many complex reasons why we find ourselves in this position today. Tax structures, long-term policy settings, market forces – all play their part. It is too complex for me to comment on the specifics. Does that mean I should stop believing that we can do better?
Does that mean I should stop being optimistic?
Perhaps not.