The number being helped by Help to Buy is at a record high. That’s not a good thing

Help to Buy, Bristol, 2013. Image: Getty.

James Brokenshire the secretary of state for the Ministry of Housing, Communities and Local Government (MHCLG) has been having a busy week. On Monday, the department published its rough sleeping strategy, while Tuesday saw the release of the long awaited social housing green paper.

Neither has filled commentators or the housing sector with much confidence – not least because they offer no new support for genuinely affordable homes. This is a problem because, well, there aren’t enough and building more will cost money. 

Since 2010, affordable housing funding has taken a significant hit. Financial support for building social rented homes, where rents are linked to local earnings, has been cut in favour of rents set at 80 per cent of market rents. As a result the supply of new homes at social rent has dwindled dramaticallyIPPR research has shown that, across the country, the so-called affordable rents which have replaced them are simply too expensive for many households on low incomes.

This lack of a support stands in marked contrast to government’s approach to homeownership, as figures released today on sales through the Help to Buy show. Help to Buy loans, in which government lends a household 20 per cent of the value of a new build home (40 per cent in London), are at a record high. To date, around 170,000 homes have been sold through the scheme.

But the Help to Buy policy has two key problems. Firstly, far from supporting those who otherwise couldn’t afford to buy, the scheme is instead assisting households who would be able to buy at some point without support; lower income households continue to be priced out. The government’s own analysis shows that many of those buying through the scheme would have been able to buy at some point in the future without the scheme.

At the same time, the data released today shows that more than a third of those who have made use of Help to Buy to date have household incomes of £50,000 or higher. Around 1 in 10 of those who have bought through the scheme have a household income of over £80,000.

Secondly, far from improving affordability, Help to Buy worsens it. Research by the housing charity Shelter has shown that, through boosting demand for scarce housing, Help to Buy has inflated house prices. 


The main beneficiaries of this are the developers who have factored the scheme into house prices and as a result have seen a significant increase in their profits. Take, for example, the excessive bonus paid to the CEO of Persimmon Homes earlier this year of £75m (originally £100m), which stoked such shareholder and public fury: that was linked to a surge in profits driven by the Help to Buy scheme.

Both of these critiques demonstrate that government is currently not putting its balance sheet to best use. To date, Government has leant out £8.9bn through the Help to Buy. In 2017 alone, the money could have been used by councils to build somewhere in the region of 22,000 homes for social rent, over 400 times the amount actually built in 2016-17.

Letting councils borrow to build affordable housing would make significant steps towards delivering the 145,000 affordable homes which are needed each year, tackling poor housing conditions, over-crowding and poverty. At the same time, it would generate a return for councils, which could in turn be used to invest in more affordable homes and improve existing ones.

Yet, our absurd national accounting rules currently prevent this from happening. Help to Buy lending is not counted towards the deficit. This is because, asGeorge Osborne boasted when launching it, the Help to Buy scheme is a financial transaction, and therefore the taxpayer would be “making an investment and getting a return”.

By contrast, under rules imposed by the Conservative Government of 2010-15, councils are subject to a debt cap on what is called the housing revenue account. This prevents them from borrowing prudently against future rental streams to build council homes. This is despite cries from the Local Government Association that councils want to get building in order to tackle the housing crisis.

On a more positive note, the social housing green paper indicates that the government is starting to budge on this. It has already lifted the borrowing cap slightly in areas with pressure on affordability and is using these schemes to test the possibility of going further. 

This is welcome, but as the social green paper shows warm rhetoric on its own is not enough. Government should commit to changing the borrowing rules, lifting the local authority debt cap and phasing out help to buy.

Darren Baxter is a Research Fellow at IPPR he tweets @DarrenBaxter.

 
 
 
 

What does the fate of Detroit tell us about the future of Silicon Valley?

Detroit, 2008. Image: Getty.

There was a time when California’s Santa Clara Valley, bucolic home to orchards and vineyards, was known as “the valley of heart’s delight”. The same area was later dubbed “Silicon Valley,” shorthand for the high-tech combination of creativity, capital and California cool. However, a backlash is now well underway – even from the loyal gadget-reviewing press. Silicon Valley increasingly conjures something very different: exploitation, excess, and elitist detachment.

Today there are 23 active Superfund toxic waste cleanup sites in Santa Clara County, California. Its culture is equally unhealthy: Think of the Gamergate misogynist harassment campaigns, the entitled “tech bros” and rampant sexism and racism in Silicon Valley firms. These same companies demean the online public with privacy breaches and unauthorised sharing of users’ data. Thanks to the companies’ influences, it’s extremely expensive to live in the area. And transportation is so clogged that there are special buses bringing tech-sector workers to and from their jobs. Some critics even perceive threats to democracy itself.

In a word, Silicon Valley has become toxic.

Silicon Valley’s rise is well documented, but the backlash against its distinctive culture and unscrupulous corporations hints at an imminent twist in its fate. As historians of technology and industry, we find it helpful to step back from the breathless champions and critics of Silicon Valley and think about the long term. The rise and fall of another American economic powerhouse – Detroit – can help explain how regional reputations change over time.

The rise and fall of Detroit

The city of Detroit became a famous node of industrial capitalism thanks to the pioneers of the automotive age. Men such as Henry Ford, Horace and John Dodge, and William Durant cultivated Detroit’s image as a centre of technical novelty in the early 20th century.

The very name “Detroit” soon became a metonym for the industrial might of the American automotive industry and the source of American military power. General Motors president Charles E. Wilson’s remark that, “For years I thought what was good for our country was good for General Motors, and vice versa,” was an arrogant but accurate account of Detroit’s place at the heart of American prosperity and global leadership.

The public’s view changed after the 1950s. The auto industry’s leading firms slid into bloated bureaucratic rigidity and lost ground to foreign competitors. By the 1980s, Detroit was the image of blown-out, depopulated post-industrialism.

In retrospect – and perhaps as a cautionary tale for Silicon Valley – the moral decline of Detroit’s elite was evident long before its economic decline. Henry Ford became famous in the pre-war era for the cars and trucks that carried his name, but he was also an anti-Semite, proto-fascist and notorious enemy of organised labor. Detroit also was the source of defective and deadly products that Ralph Nader criticized in 1965 as “unsafe at any speed”. Residents of the region now bear the costs of its amoral industrial past, beset with high unemployment and poisonous drinking water.


A new chapter for Silicon Valley

If the story of Detroit can be simplified as industrial prowess and national prestige, followed by moral and economic decay, what does that say about Silicon Valley? The term “Silicon Valley” first appeared in print in the early 1970s and gained widespread use throughout the decade. It combined both place and activity. The Santa Clara Valley, a relatively small area south of the San Francisco Bay, home to San Jose and a few other small cities, was the base for a computing revolution based on silicon chips. Companies and workers flocked to the Bay Area, seeking a pleasant climate, beautiful surroundings and affordable land.

By the 1980s, venture capitalists and companies in the Valley had mastered the silicon arts and were getting filthy, stinking rich. This was when “Silicon Valley” became shorthand for an industrial cluster where universities, entrepreneurs and capital markets fuelled technology-based economic development. Journalists fawned over successful companies like Intel, Cisco and Google, and analysts filled shelves with books and reports about how other regions could become the “next Silicon Valley”.

Many concluded that its culture set it apart. Boosters and publications like Wired magazine celebrated the combination of the Bay Area hippie legacy with the libertarian individualism embodied by the late Grateful Dead lyricist John Perry Barlow. The libertarian myth masked some crucial elements of Silicon Valley’s success – especially public funds dispersed through the U.S. Defense Department and Stanford University.

The ConversationIn retrospect, perhaps that ever-expanding gap between Californian dreams and American realities led to the undoing of Silicon Valley. Its detachment from the lives and concerns of ordinary Americans can be seen today in the unhinged Twitter rants of automaker Elon Musk, the extreme politics of PayPal co-founder Peter Thiel, and the fatuous dreams of immortality of Google’s vitamin-popping director of engineering, Ray Kurzweil. Silicon Valley’s moral decline has never been clearer, and it now struggles to survive the toxic mess it has created.

Andrew L. Russell, Dean, College of Arts & Sciences; Professor of History, SUNY Polytechnic Institute and Lee Vinsel, Assistant Professor of Science and Technology Studies, Virginia Tech.

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.