NOT SO RADICAL REVOLU TIONS

On home, community, and reclaiming a space of our own Órlaith Roe

These days, it is a near certainty that the phrase “long-term housing” will strike deep fear into even the most brazen of accommodation seekers. Younger generations are increasingly plagued by the onslaught of housing woes and the worsening anxiety of instability. Home ownership has morphed into an unattainable dream-like state, collapsed by the crushing reality of rising rents and surging house prices. In a recent report released by the Parliamentary Budget Office of the Republic of Ireland, house prices were now “six to seven times” average salaries, creating a painfully bleak and unaffordable landscape for many workers. This figure is replicated across Europe in various forms, mainly affecting urban cities and built-up areas. The current housing market is squeezing out average-salary earners, who are then forced to navigate the dire state of the European rental landscape as they prolong their search for a long-term home. This economic and financial strain of modern-day house hunting is coupled with an environmental dilemma that feeds into the lack of long-term sustainable living. UN Habitat states that buildings and constructions account for more than one-quarter of all greenhouse gas emissions (GHGs), through “greenfield development, cement production, and the burning of fossil fuels such as oil, gas, and coal for construction purposes.” And when an affordable house becomes available on the market, oftentimes it comes at the expense of sustainability and eco-friendly construction, in line with many countries’ national housing policies that choose affordability without sustainability.

Cities like Dublin, London, and Amsterdam have quickly transformed into hellscapes for renters and young potential buyers. The problem is not merely an urban hou-

sing shortage. The growing issue is that of systematic property monopolisations, Airbnb expansions, and vacant homes lying idle across cities and countries, derelict, empty, and neglected by government authorities for potential re-purposing. It is a sad and frustrating cycle of inefficiency that is worsened by the growing climate crisis and unwillingness of governments to pledge for more sustainable construction methods. Faced with these mounting obstacles, what viable solution can renters and first-time buyers, who long for an eco-friendlier space, turn toward? Community living and co-housing are nothing new, but they are now arguably essential facets of sustainable community and longterm living that we should re-imagine and expand. With current housing norms failing both the people and the landscape, learning how to love our space more holistically can push us ever closer to a long-term solution.

The restructuring of living space around community and collective domestic labour was proposed by Karel Teige, the Czech theorist, who in 1932 published The Minimum Dwelling. It planted the seeds for many thinkers in modern day collective community spheres and underlines why the chic co-living market cannot solve our housing woes, as it lacks the “social intent of collective living”. “Millennial co-living” is being marketed as the solution for young house seekers in need of viable accommodation in urban spaces. Currently being dictated by companies such as Collective and Quarters, they can charge upwards of 1200 euros per month to live in a hotel-sized room, with the promise of being able to always avail of its shared amenities and events such as co-working spaces, libraries, restaurants (things I am pretty sure you can also find out in the real world). This type of co-living may be having its moment, but like all ‘must have’ things, the trend will pass. It is hard not to feel as though the commercial companies, eagerly expanding their collectives to new cities as we speak, are exploitive opportunists damaging the rental market in the long-term. As eco-friendly and communal as they may brand themselves, there are better, more sustainable options to house us all. Matthew Stewart, a researcher at the University of Westminster, pointed out another problem with companies such as the Collective, “… they make similar claims about solving the housing crisis, but it doesn’t stand up. Teige was talking about a mixture of different ages, generations, classes – it wasn’t targeted at a specific group. It was more about democratising housing, rather than just having these enclaves of millennials who are being charged a lot of money.”

“In its truest and most collective form, co-living has the potential to revolutionise housing and substantially alter the living situations of young professionals, students, new families, retirees, and much more.”

A place where amenities are shared, tasks eased by helping hands, and an open interactive space should you choose to get involved (and it’s completely fine if not). Unlike Collective and Quarters, there is an increasing number of less commercial co-living projects being made a reality. As the Guardian profiled, Marmalade Lane is a 42-home multigenerational “oasis”. Their insistence on incorporating a cross-section of generations differs from millennial-focused co-living buildings – it is essential in ensuring a vibrant and natural community space. “It has a mix of homes, ranging from four-bedroom houses to one-bedroom apartments, with a central “common house” providing a focal point where the community can eat together and socialise. Everyone can also make use of communal laundry, gym, meeting rooms and garden, and the organisation is managed by its residents using consensus-based decision-making.” It is far more similar to the original Danish conception of “co-housing” rather than “co-living”. With things like childcare and transportation shared and pooled, the everyday actions of its inhabitants become easier and more productive. Moreover, when projects such as Collective are being spearheaded by wealthy and privately educated CEOs, there is a huge lack of understanding when it comes to community living, shared spaces, and affordable standards. To be successful for the community, our spaces must be built by the community.

With increased homelessness rates, skyrocketing rents, a worsening climate crisis, and the inability for younger generations to get a mortgage, a radical shift in housing policy is needed. Sustainable materials, durable foundations, safe environs, shared amenities, and a community-driven vision may all sound like impossible dreams, but they are attainable and realistic despite what politicians and businessmen may regurgitate. Reclaiming our space for ourselves and our planet is our right, and there is no better way than doing that than by laying down sustainable roots, returning to community thinking, and loving our space.