Affordable Homes

At the end of the Second World War Britain was confronted with a housing shortage which was in many ways far greater than the one we face today. Thousands of homes had been razed to the ground during the aerial bombardments of cities like London, Coventry, Plymouth and Southampton. Many of the old slum dwellings were well past their sell-by-date and needed to be demolished. Demobilised troops were getting married and demanding homes fit for returning heroes. The situation was dire, but somehow the country muddled through, and within a few years affluence returned. Unemployment was minimal, the economy remained stable and the shops were soon overflowing with luxury consumer goods. New homes were built at the rate of 300,000 a year, which made the dream of creating a property owning democracy a distinct possibility. In the words of Harold MacMillan the British people had ‘never had it so good.’

What lessons can be learnt from this remarkable recovery, which might help us overcome our present housing crisis? The first is to reduce government intervention to an absolute minimum, and give individuals the freedom and autonomy to make their own housing choices. No two people have exactly the same housing needs, but bureaucrats always assume that they have, because they can only deal with mass demands. Their goal is to provide standardised housing units for the hypothetical, average British household. They cannot possibly cater for the heartfelt desires, and myriad aspirations, of individuals. Given this mindset at the end of WW2 the government set out to commandeer large stretches of countryside to build a series of New Towns on the fringes of Harlow, Peterlee, Crawley, Newton Aycliffe and Hemel Hempstead. This enabled them to reach their target of building 300,000 housing units in a single year. But these cookie-cutter homes were not to everyone’s taste. In Acacia Avenue people might have better accommodation than in their bomb-damaged terraced house, but their wellbeing and life styles often plummeted when they were transported from their old communities, with its familiar pubs, churches, schools, family and friends. These new conurbations were carefully planned and surrounded by protective green belts, but were nevertheless aesthetically unattractive, repetitive and dull. Chicken farms and barrack blocks are rarely objects of great architectural beauty. This we’ll soon discover if the government goes ahead with its plans to build a series of euphemistically named ‘eco-towns’ on green field sites. This may help them reach their housing target, but it won’t help people who are looking for a one-bedroom flat, or would like to extend their grandparents’ home to provide a two-roomed starter home. Even in a severe housing crisis, it will soon be apparent that one size doesn’t fit all, and that this soul destroying uniformity will never create attractive, vibrant townscapes, for as Emerson observed, ‘the secret of ugliness lies in being uninteresting.’

People, if left to their own devices, will soon find ways of solving their urgent housing needs. At the end of WW2 thousands of homeless families became squatters, moving without permission into disused service camps and empty blocks of flats. This may not be an ideal solution to the housing shortage, but it’s perfectly legal to occupy an empty property providing you want it for your personal use and are not seen to cause any ‘criminal damage’ when you gain entry. The Halifax building society reckons that at present more than a quarter of a million private homes in Britain are lying empty, a figure which housing charities rightly describe as ‘shocking’. If you’re in desperate need of a temporary shelter this is a route you may well consider. The mechanics are fairly straightforward: first locate a suitable neglected property, gain entry, then place your own lock on the entry door so you establish what is legally known as ‘secure access.’ More details about squatting can be obtained through housing charities, and dedicated websites such as www.crashpadder.com .

A crisis always offers an opportunity for change, and provides a stimulus for ingenuity and creative thinking. During the last world war the British people showed their resourcefulness and adaptability. They collected acorns to make ersatz coffee and surrendered their pots and pans and garden railings to turn them into tanks and planes. When the hostilities were over they showed an equal willingness to experiment with new building technologies. They had no qualms about moving into prefabricated homes made out of the aluminium scrap salvaged from war damaged aircraft, or created from sheets of lignocrete, a new material which was a mixture of concrete and chemically treated sawdust panels. People then had lower expectations than we have today. They wanted a roof over their head, and didn’t mind if their new homes were small and decidedly unconventional. Their goal was quality, rather than quantity. The prefabs were popular because they could be erected in a single day and were functionally efficient and visually attractive. They had large picture windows and splendidly fitted kitchens, which made them the envy of those living in traditional pre-war dwellings. One man was caught peering into a prefab, and was arrested as a peeping Tom, when all he wanted to do was view their luxury fitments. According to Neil Kinnock, the EU commissioner whose family occupied a prefab for fourteen years, it was ‘like living in a spaceship.’

Nowadays politicians can only think of building bog-standard estates of four bedroom, brick built houses, whereas we’d be far better using our resources to create pre-fabricated, eco-friendly homes from some of the exciting new building materials which are available today. This is the view of the world famous architect Lord Richard Rodgers, who says: ‘When we first started seriously to think about the prefabricated home, everybody jumped to the conclusion that it would lead to monotony. I say it offers us a way of building truly imaginative and exciting homes.’

Key words: New towns; Squatting; Neil Kinnock; Lord Richard Rodgers.