By Maria Millers
They think I’m building a house. I’m building a haven,
not with brick, but with tenderness.
What They Don’t Know” by Jericho Brown
Housing seems to have moved centre stage in the election debates and while Brown’s poem is a reminder of how nurturing a home can be is shared by many, regrettably not by everyone.
Not all homes are nurturing havens and memories of home and an oppressive father for poet Sylvia Plath were very different indeed:
I have always been scared of you,
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
Daddy – Sylvia Plath
But whether nurturing or otherwise what is indisputable is that the right to shelter or adequate affordable housing is a recognized human right enshrined in International Law.
But sadly not protected in the Australian Constitution.
In Australia housing policy is treated primarily as an economic issue not as a rights based one.
The focus is on markets, ownership, and investment—not shelter, security, dignity, or fairness.
Australia’s obsession with home ownership is not just about having a place to live, but is tied to ideas of success and social status.
That has definitely created a divide between those who have ‘made it’ onto the property ladder and those left renting or priced out from both.
People experiencing or at risk of homelessness include single parents, low income essential workers, First Nations People, young people and even some who despite full time employment, can’t keep up with mortgage or rent.
With Anzac Day, this week we should also think about the many veterans who are homeless.
The right to housing must include our veterans.
We honour their service with medals,
but leave them without a place to sleep.
There is without doubt a housing crisis.
There are just not enough affordable houses or rentals to go around.
And this is why housing has become such a hot potato topic.
Wages haven’t kept up with house prices. So the old promise of ‘work hard and you’ll own a home’ feels hollow.
We still talk about the Australian Dream, the mythical home of John Williamson’s song which hardly reflects our society today.
Give me a home among the gumtrees
With lots of plum trees
A sheep or two, a k-kangaroo
A clothesline out the back
Verandah out the front
And an old rocking chair
But the desire to own property remains strong as parents urge offspring to get ‘a foot on the property ladder’ and as we know often provide the deposit.
Perhaps it’s time to go beyond the solutions put forward by all parties and look at the philosophical thinking around housing reflected in the language used.
When you think about it: we have a whole vocabulary built around housing: a potential home is evaluated whether it’s ‘a good investment.’
And somewhere along the way, aspirational became code for a four-bedroom house, two bathrooms, and a mortgage the size of a small country.
It’s seen as a pathway into a kind of suburban middle class respectability.
We talk about aspirational suburbs, aspirational buyers, getting on the ladder—as if aspiration itself is only applicable to real estate.
So often used in this context it has almost lost its broader meaning.
It has stopped meaning hopeful, visionary, ambitious in any way that doesn’t end in bricks and equity.
What that does, though, is subtly devalue other kinds of aspiration: It can be seen in the way anyone choosing to pursue a creative social goal such as artist, teacher, carer or just someone who seeks stability without the pressure of accumulation is not valued.
Whereas taking on a massive mortgage, chasing capital growth to the exclusion of all else is celebrated as success.
As poet WH Auden’s satire on the man who did everything ‘right’ in society’s eyes asks:
Was he free? Was he happy? The question is absurd:
Had anything been wrong, we should certainly have heard.
Unknown Citizen”– W. H. Auden
It’s like changing the meaning of any cultural myth: it starts with language, stories, and visibility.
If enough people start using aspirational to mean something broader, richer, and more human, the weight of that old narrow meaning starts to crack.
But people still must have somewhere to live, be safe and raise families.
Cities like Vienna, Copenhagen, or even parts of Japan show that affordability, density, and quality can coexist.
These countries show how a different approach can work Vienna is such a great example: over 60 per cent of the population lives in social or cooperative housing, and it’s beautifully designed, well-maintained, and integrated into all parts of city life.
After WWII, Australia had a severe housing shortage and in response, the Federal Government offered cheap land, low-interest loans, and infrastructure development to encourage families (especially returned soldiers) to build or buy homes in the suburbs.
At the same time they initiated programs like the Commonwealth-State Housing Agreement (1945)—which invested heavily in public housing.
Lots of people have gone from public housing to do great things in the world.
Prime Minister Anthony Albanese is a notable example. Raised in public housing in inner-city Sydney by a single mother on a pension, he often credits his upbringing with shaping his commitment to social justice and equality.
Jennifer Westacott, the Chief Executive of the Business Council of Australia, also grew up in public housing in New South Wales.
In the sports world, cricketer David Warner and actor Bryan Brown have both credited their humble beginnings in public housing with instilling resilience and determination.
Richard Glover, author and ABC presenter for many years grew up in Doveton, Victoria, a suburb that was predominantly public housing during his childhood.
In his memoir Flesh Wounds, Glover reflects on his experiences growing up in this working-class area, where by 1966 around 2500 homes had been built.
Policies from the 1980s saw dere4gulation, privatisation and tax incentives like negative gearing and capital gains tax discount encouraging people to invest in property.
At the same time, public housing declined, was neglected and even demonized.
As home ownership started to become harder for many it was less about shelter and more about wealth creation.
Renting became more common, and the dream began to slip away for younger generations and the more vulnerable.
Many now see it as either unrealistic or unappealing.
The crisis isn’t just about not being able to buy a home.
It’s about lack of stability, security, dignity, and choice.
And it’s being felt mostly by the very people who keep the country functioning.
