The UK’s housing shortage is among the worst in Europe, a problem amplified by stagnating growth and rising debt costs, and while a new planning and infrastructure bill is in progress, it would not be enough to dismantle the deep systemic barriers to building homes.
For many in the UK, finding a decent place to live can be harrowing. The country faces a shortfall of more than 4 million homes. More than 160,000 children are stuck in temporary accommodations, with little chance to put down roots. Soaring house prices — eight times the average incomes in some areas — have turned ownership into a fantasy for many. Homelessness has reached record levels.
With developers assured of high demand, the homes that do get built are often no triumph of design or quality. British homes are among the smallest in Europe, with private rentals averaging just 75 square meters. Many find themselves in homes plagued by substandard conditions; in 2023, 14 percent of UK households failed to meet the government’s minimal “decent homes standard.”
The root causes are well known. A discretionary and often arbitrary planning system lends itself to gaming and rent-seeking.
An excessive amount of “green belt” designations — including 88 percent of the land within reasonable commuting distance of London — has impeded construction and raised prices in the most in-demand areas. Well-meaning environmental regulations delay projects and raise costs with questionable justification.
Many of these problems have been worsened by the UK’s system of local governance. Fragmented layers of administration lengthen delays, raise costs, politicize decisions and create perverse incentives.
For instance, without revenue-raising power, local councils often cannot supply adequate infrastructure for large-scale development. If new housing leads to rising living standards, councils might lose out on central government aid that is conditioned on poverty rates.
The Labour government has announced reforms intended to address these challenges, including housing targets for councils and “gray-belt” designations meant to unlock more land for housing. New “golden rules” aim to prevent landowners from blocking projects, while environmental bodies would face limits on their ability to impose costly delays. These steps are promising as far as they go.
However, given the scale of the problem, lawmakers ought to press the government to think bigger. Green-belt reform, especially around major cities like London and Birmingham, should be much more ambitious. As things stand, about 13 percent of the country remains presumptively off-limits to development. That not only raises housing costs, but lengthens commutes, strangles productivity and impedes economic mobility.
At the same time, the government needs to address skewed incentives in the housing market. Under the current policy, landowners can often pocket vast windfalls when land is rezoned, while local authorities mostly bear the costs of supplying the needed infrastructure and services.
The UK should adopt lessons from other countries — including Germany and France — where municipalities are better at keeping a share of the gains from rising land values to fund roads, schools and services, aligning private gain with public good.
Local government reform would be a longer-term project. However, centralized tools such as the National Development Management Policies, introduced in 2022, could be used more aggressively to change incentives at the local level. In countries such as Japan and New Zealand, where supply more closely lines up with demand, national policies have proved helpful in boosting density, encouraging affordable housing and developing underused land.
The stakes are high. For too long, successive governments have promised action while papering over the cracks. As part of Labour’s growth strategy, British Prime Minister Keir Starmer has promised to “back the builders, not the blockers.”
Now is his chance to prove it.
The Editorial Board publishes the views of the editors across a range of national and global affairs.
A gap appears to be emerging between Washington’s foreign policy elites and the broader American public on how the United States should respond to China’s rise. From my vantage working at a think tank in Washington, DC, and through regular travel around the United States, I increasingly experience two distinct discussions. This divergence — between America’s elite hawkishness and public caution — may become one of the least appreciated and most consequential external factors influencing Taiwan’s security environment in the years ahead. Within the American policy community, the dominant view of China has grown unmistakably tough. Many members of Congress, as
The Hong Kong government on Monday gazetted sweeping amendments to the implementation rules of Article 43 of its National Security Law. There was no legislative debate, no public consultation and no transition period. By the time the ink dried on the gazette, the new powers were already in force. This move effectively bypassed Hong Kong’s Legislative Council. The rules were enacted by the Hong Kong chief executive, in conjunction with the Committee for Safeguarding National Security — a body shielded from judicial review and accountable only to Beijing. What is presented as “procedural refinement” is, in substance, a shift away from
The shifting geopolitical tectonic plates of this year have placed Beijing in a profound strategic dilemma. As Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) prepares for a high-stakes summit with US President Donald Trump, the traditional power dynamics of the China-Japan-US triangle have been destabilized by the diplomatic success of Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi in Washington. For the Chinese leadership, the anxiety is two-fold: There is a visceral fear of being encircled by a hardened security alliance, and a secondary risk of being left in a vulnerable position by a transactional deal between Washington and Tokyo that might inadvertently empower Japan
After declaring Iran’s military “gone,” US President Donald Trump appealed to the UK, France, Japan and South Korea — as well as China, Iran’s strategic partner — to send minesweepers and naval forces to reopen the Strait of Hormuz. When allies balked, the request turned into a warning: NATO would face “a very bad” future if it refused. The prevailing wisdom is that Trump faces a credibility problem: having spent years insulting allies, he finds they would not rally when he needs them. That is true, but superficial, as though a structural collapse could be caused by wounded feelings. Something