What, precisely, is the government doing with the Renters’ Rights Bill? This was the legislative fix demanded for the “housing crisis”—the one senior Labour members spent the last election shouting about, often using the now-infamous, hollow phrase, “on day one.”

I’ve been watching this with more than just interest. Since January 2024, I have received three Section 21 “no-fault” eviction notices across two separate properties. One landlord filed it to avoid undertaking necessary damp works because they lacked the proper license. The current one—whom I have never even met—along with his agent (hi, Sam!), has dragged his heels on two improvement notices. The agent, at one point, put me in temporary accommodation that featured broken glass in the fridge and discarded needles in the backyard. I’ve now run out of road: court action can begin to evict me under this very Section 21 on the first of January.

Renters rights – not just yet

Wait, I hear the shouting: Aren’t they getting rid of Section 21s? Yes. They are. But not now. That wouldn’t be reasonable, would it? It’s only been seven years since the Tories first promised to ban no-fault evictions. Perhaps the landlords haven’t had enough notice.

We must, after all, think of the landlord. In the words of Karl Marx:

He renders no service to the community, he contributes nothing to the general welfare, he contributes nothing to the process from which his own enrichment is derived…The unearned increment on the land is reaped by the land monopolist in exact proportion, not to the service, but to the disservice done.

Oh, sorry, was that Winston Churchill? Awkward.

We all know landlordism is fundamentally destabilising the country, so why is the current government bending over backward to cater to the landlord lobby? What happened to “on day one”? I suppose they meant day one of May 2026. Kind of. Unless you’re in the social sector.

But at least there’s the National Landlord Database to help people like me when we get booted out to find a good new landlord… Oh, that’s not until the end of 2026, you say? Well, okay. But the Warm Homes Standard, surely? Well, if we’re talking how long it’ll be for all homes in the country to reach those standards? Around about 2028.

Parasites race to the bottom

Sometimes, I honestly don’t know who I despise more: my landlord for being a leaching parasite, or the government for pandering to this entire farce.

There’s a local property management company currently buying up homes at auction in a nearby small community—sometimes for as little as £30k cash. They immediately slap on some magnolia emulsion and rent them out for £600 a month. How is any of this legal? My last house lacked loft insulation; the council’s housing service telephone operator knew my letting agent by name when I reported him. Yet he is still allowed to manage dozens of properties, while local councils choose not to use the legal mechanisms available to repossess dangerous properties.

And even the basics are a struggle: I am still waiting for a date for my Rent Repayment Tribunal to reclaim money spent on a dodgy house that was not legally habitable for most of the time I lived there. How can you rent a house that is unsafe for people to live in and still profit from it? This entire system is fundamentally broken.

It all ties together. No, I am not painting the gate this year; I don’t give a damn. I’m not volunteering at the local library, and I’ve given up my allotment. Why? Because who knows where I’ll be living? If I move five miles in the wrong direction, I lose access to my therapist. I have no stability, so I am not investing time or effort into a place I won’t be in six or eight months from now. When that mentality infects 30% of a street, a village, or a city—when 30% of the population has no stake in the land they inhabit—that is a truly terrifying world.

Trapped

I helped a friend move into their first house yesterday. It’s warm, the roof doesn’t leak—it’s a home—and the mortgage is less than my rent. Make it make sense. Only one in eight renters can afford to buy a property where they live. Everyone else is told they can’t afford to buy, all while we are reliably paying someone else’s mortgage month after month.

Even some of the criticism from landlords is valid: this legislation genuinely doesn’t fix anything. It has spooked smaller landlords into leaving the market, yet too few people who need to buy those properties are able to afford them. This is further compounded by a generation of property owners who refuse to downsize because of the tax implications on an asset that they bought for literal peanuts. That is the legacy of the last few decades of deregulation in the housing sector; tens of thousands of families stuck in a high-supply, low-demand trap, with land banking driving up current property values. People in rented accommodation in the North East and Midlands pay more council tax than homeowners I know in the South East.

Ultimately, even when this watered-down legislation comes into play, if local councils lack the funding to implement these changes, it will all mean nothing. As my Environmental Health Officer wisely told me, the government can pass whatever law it wants, but if councils don’t have the capacity to implement and enforce the new regulations, they might as well not exist.

Featured image via the Canary

By Barold

This post was originally published on Canary.