How we cosplay landlords even without owning property
My landlord is allowing us to choose the next housemate. Has the power gotten to us?
One of the cringiest things I’ve ever done, according to my cousin, is the time I asked my live-in landlady if I could have the place to myself to invite two friends over. It was a two-bedroom house in Oxford, one of the most expensive places to rent in England, and I just wanted one night where I invited two girlfriends over (it would have been the first time I did so) and I didn’t want it to be under the watchful eye of my landlord. I was 23 and had an audacity (or naïveté) to question people with power. It felt like the most natural thing in the world for me, a paying tenant, to have the premises to myself for one night. My landlady, of course, said no, looking at me as if I’d asked whether I could take a shit in the middle of the living room. To her, it was an unfathomable ask, even if I did help pay her mortgage.
My current landlord, an elderly gentleman who grew up in this home, is considered One of the Good Ones. He hasn’t capitalised off every square inch in the home by turning all the communal spaces into living quarters, and he doesn’t charge an astronomical amount for rent. Oh, but he did increase rent a few months ago, even though his mortgage is likely already paid off. Cozzy livs is hitting landlords hard too, apparently.
Maybe I’m being too harsh on him. If a viral Novara Media video at the National Landlord Investment Show is anything to go by, landlords are unnecessarily vilified, misunderstood, and hard done by. That’s according to landlords themselves, of course. I’m curious, do they really think that if a property is left unowned, it ceases existing?
One landlord unashamedly told journalist Rivkah Brown how he didn’t need to raise rent, he just chose to ‘cause the market was going that way. One property investor gleefully explained how they make landlords even richer by sourcing higher value tenants. ‘So does that involve asking tenants who can’t pay, to leave?’ Rivkah asked. The property investor, smiling, reveals that it’s a ‘beautiful thing’ that her job means she does the dirty work, so landlords don’t have to deal with tenants. Funny, I wouldn’t call kicking someone out because they can’t afford astronomical rent prices ‘beautiful’.
As a private renter whose rent was increased a few months ago, and generally as a person with empathy, the whole housing crisis pisses me off so much (build more social housing! More rights for renters! No evictions! etc. etc.). This post isn’t about greedy landlords and preaching to the choir about abolishing landlordism, but rather how in an ever increasingly individualistic world (everyone only looking out for themselves), we end up co-opting landlord qualities; policing, selfishness, and whatever the opposite of nurturing is.
I get why it happens. Renters have little power and lots of anxiety. You can never fully relax in the home you pay 40% of your income towards, lest you leave some evidence that you live there. You end up with an ugly sofa that doesn’t match with the rest of the furniture. A flimsy wardrobe which has lost its even flimsier backing with the push of your clothes against it. The undecorated beige walls ‘cause you’re not sure you can nail things on the wall. Reader, I don’t even have a bed. For almost two years, I’ve been sleeping on two mattresses; one which the landlord provided in his original furnishings and another I took from my sister’s old bed. The furnishings the landlord provided are faulty, soulless, and un-enduring. I could ask for better things (and risk getting on the bad books for pestering my landlord) or buy my own but I don’t want to pile this place with things I’ll have the burden of shifting myself when I inevitably move. Such is the precariousness of renting.Â
The only real time I’ve felt like I’ve had control over housing is when choosing and conducting housemate auditions (trying to find a new housemate to live with). While some landlords choose to do this themselves, mine has allowed me and my other housemate to choose who the next person to live with us is. And in doing so, we’ve been imbued with a power we haven’t had before. In essence, we’ve become mini landlords.
We started caring about whether this new housemate would have too much stuff, whether they had a bike, if they were going to be home a lot, work from home, how often they’d be home, how busy their social lives were (my housemate cares more for this than me, I spend my weekends at my parents), if they would want to change the house too much (read: make it their own more than we’d made it our own, as if that would negate our stake to the house).
Housemate horror stories are aplenty online and anecdotally (my housemate did do this once), and it’s natural that both my housemate and I want someone who doesn’t upset the dynamic and harmony we’ve got going on. After all, we have to live with that person. But I surprised myself with how specific my idea of a good renter is, and how we were judging potential housemates on things we wouldn’t want to be judged for (I wfh, so this makes me a hypocrite for sure).
To date, we’ve seen maybe 10 different people, with at least two no-shows and plenty of cancellations, and it can be frustrating on both ends – one person who we’d initially agreed on ended up bailing, leaving us to foot her share of the bills (not fun) for the month. I wish I had a better solution and could provide a commune to all the women we’ve seen, many of whom are being kicked out by landlords selling the property.
Alas, I have no such power. So with the little power I do have, I’m going to suspend the voice that says no to bikes, to WFHers, to those with a partner or pets. Everyone has the right to decent housing, a home they can rest without the anxiety and fear of being kicked out, a home they can decorate as they see fit, and one that truly feels like home.
Anyway, another housemate audition beckons. I hope she’s the one.
Here are some previous bits I wrote: On using Istikhara to decide on whether to get married
On a life update, joblessness and Big Fat Heartbreak.