Gentrification

Originally published in the Scotsman.

I’m very lucky to share a two-bedroom flat with a good friend. It’s the first time since leaving home that I haven’t lived with at least three other people. In halls, I shared a bathroom with nineteen other women, and the big improvement in moving to off-campus accommodation was a house shared among ten. According to our lease, we were all ‘family members’ so our landlord could pay the lowest tax rate for a single-family home.

Los Angeles has strict housing codes, yet he managed to get away with cramming too many people into houses with faulty smoke alarms, dodgy plumbing, vermin, and no heat (contrary to popular belief, L.A. winters get cold at night). Not uncommon in the neighbourhood were one-bedroom apartments shared between four people, with rooms partitioned by flimsy panelling or bedsheets. But there was a shared understanding among students that illegal living conditions were better than giving up convenient access to university facilities, so we didn’t say anything.

Here in Edinburgh, a similar storm may be brewing. The council is considering limiting HMO (House in Multiple Occupation) licenses in core student areas including Newington, Marchmont, Bruntsfield, and Tollcross. While it’s unlikely that landlords will get away with rampant overcrowding, prices are sure to rise and students will be faced with the same kinds of difficult choices that we had to make in L.A: pay more and live near university, or pay less and commute.

I’m struck by the irony of the council’s position. One hand seems to be undoing what the other has wrought. Widening access to university and college is supposed to be a top priority in Scotland – so why put limits on affordable housing within walking distance of universities? Scotland is supposed to be going ‘green’ – so why force a significant segment of the population to commute unnecessarily?

People’s main concern seems to be noise, which confuses me, because even on a Saturday night, the neighbourhoods in question are no louder than I’d expect of a city. As far as I can tell, a large proportion of the drunken revelry comes from people in their late 20s and beyond, or high school kids getting pissed on street corners. Unfortunately, obnoxiousness cannot be limited to a certain demographic. Still, it makes me wonder where the complaints are for the nightclub havens of Lothian Road and the Cowgate – surely they’re far noisier.

The other argument – that schools are in danger of shutting for lack of children – seems just as farfetched. If it was about children, why not place limits on numbers of pensioners or single people? Why not offer extra incentives for young families?

The transparency of this argument reveals the crux of the issue. Limiting HMO licenses in key student areas will drive prices up for everyone, not just students. Is it about families, or is it about family income? Is it the noise that makes people uncomfortable, or the economic diversity? Maybe it has to do with the posh new development in construction across the Meadows? Forgive my cynicism, but where I’m from, talk of ‘family values’ is usually a smokescreen.

Blow away the smoke, and it’s easy to see that a neighbourhood is more than demographic percentages, whether the people in question are students, young professionals, immigrants, families, or any other group. Social engineering plans usually have unintended consequences. It’s inevitable that communities change over time, and interfering with that organic process will alter the very elements that people cherish about their neighbourhoods. I would urge the council to think twice about its decision to limit HMO licenses in core student areas.