After the Grenfell fire, the church got it right where the council failed

Giles Fraser in The Guardian

We are an “unsuccessful church”, the exhausted Rev Alan Everett told me, as I persuaded him to take a break and have some lunch. He meant that they only get 30 to 60 people in the pews on a Sunday morning and that it wasn’t one of those whizzy Alpha course churches beloved by London bishops and their growth spreadsheets. Next to us in the church’s sunny courtyard, an extended Muslim family talked openly about their escape from the fire. “Our lungs are full of smoke but at least, thank God, we are all alive.” A church worker told them where to find new shoes and clothes. It felt like a refugee camp. Perhaps it was a refugee camp. And hanging over the whole scene, Grenfell Tower, black and enormous. It stands as a biblical-scale condemnation to a whole society.

In the days after the fire, the church of St Clement’s, Notting Dale, became a hub for grieving families, generous donations of clothes and food – and camera-ready politicians. First Jeremy Corbyn came. Then a furtive Theresa May met a few residents in the church. Then Sadiq Khan was at mass on Sunday morning. I wanted to know from Everett how the church was able to respond so quickly in a way that the council didn’t. “I was woken up at 3am by a priest who lives in the tower, and so I came down to the church, opened the doors and turned the lights on,” he said. It all began from there. People started coming in out of the dark – often passersby looking to help. First they sorted out tea and coffee. By 7am, they had a fully stocked breakfast bar, with volunteers organising themselves into teams. Within hours, local restaurants were delivering food; clothes began to pile high in the church sanctuary – about 40 Transit vans’ worth, the vicar estimates. The place looked like a warehouse.

Listening to Everett, it struck me that “opening the doors and turning the lights on” was precisely the difference between the church and a local authority that had become arms’ length from its residents, continually dealing with local people only through intermediary organisations such as the locally much-hated Kensington and Chelsea Tenant Management Organisation. The nicest thing I heard about the royal borough from local people was that it had outsourced its care for the poor as a cost efficiency. The worst, that it was deliberately running down its stock of social housing so that they could eventually bring in the developers.

Donations inside the church of St Clement’s, Notting Dale. Photograph: Matthew Barrett

In his Sunday morning sermon, Fr Robert Thompson, an assistant priest in the parish and also a local Labour councillor, channelled his anger. Contrasting the good communication of the local volunteers with the bad communication of the authorities, he said: “The people on the lowest incomes of this parish simply do not feel listened to, either this week or in previous years, by those in power. Worse than that, what the whole issue of the cladding and the lack of sprinklers may well highlight is that some people in our society have simply become excess and debris on our neoliberal, unregulated, individualistic, capitalist and consumerist society.” The churchy way of saying “I agree” with all this is “amen”. The church of St Clement was built and paid for in 1867 by Alfred Dalgarno, a philanthropist vicar with deep pockets and a compassion for the poor. Thompson is a councillor for the Dalgarno ward, named after him. “This parish was built pre-welfare state and it is going to be needed as we now enter the post-welfare state,” he told me, chillingly.

Of course, parishes like St Clement are only superficially unsuccessful. Its secularised charity arm, the Clement James centre, helps thousands of local people every year, into work, into university. That’s why the parish is so trusted locally. “We are called to share in the brokenness and the forgottenness of the people we serve,” the vicar explained. In poor parishes, the job is to keep the doors open and the lights on. And this being permanently present is no small thing. Not least because, as Christians believe, the light will always beckon people out of the darkness.

Why landlords should pass a fitting person test and criminal record checks

Penny Anderson in The Guardian


Being a landlord is a privilege, and it shouldn’t be available to everybody: with the power they have over their tenants should come a sense of responsibility

 

‘Owners misunderstand, ignore or forget legal requirement to issue proper notices to quit, or the need for prior warning of inspection visits.’ Photograph: Alamy


There are more private landlords than ever. Many are reasonable. Some are even excellent, but letting property is largely unrestricted.

Sadiq Khan, the mayor of London, has highlighted the failure of his predecessor Boris Johnson to sign up 100,000 landlords to his much vaunted London Rental Standard, which aims to help landlords with things such as having a gas safety check every year, and the laws around deposits and fire safety. After two years in operation, the scheme had attracted fewer than 2,000 landlords in addition to the 13,300 it inherited.

The files reveal that officials warned the mayor at the outset that his target was unattainable and that it would take “more than 50 years to accredit a sufficient number of landlords to meet the target”. Another note read: “We simply don’t have the resources to proactively enforce the London Rental Standard, which leaves us with an unacceptable reputational risk.” Johnson’s betrayal of renters in the capital after all the promises made is embarrassing for him, but a disaster for tenants. There is no doubt that the job needs doing.

Dilettante amateur property investors often know little about basic good practice, the law or simply what’s best for everyone when it comes to running their business in a civilised, humane fashion – and yes, it is a business, with the potential for profit and loss. They might be reluctant or “forced” rentiers (a term I prefer to landlord), with the family home in negative equity, compelled to rent it out if they want to move on. Outside London this is still a reality, and with the predicted house-price crash on Brexit, that practice may become more widespread.

This situation fuels the likelihood that tenants will be turfed out as soon as possible when the building increases in value. Remember that all tenants live under the threat of just two months’ notice when their initial assured shorthold tenancy rolls over. There is no security for renters.

There are recurring issues, such as owners who do not understand the concept of reasonable wear and tear expecting their properties to remain pristine and unmarked, even when the low-quality carpets and sofas they chose were threadbare to begin with. This in turn propagates the now traditional unlawful deposit retention/deduction battle, which can see mundane events – the simple act of using the sofa perhaps – cited as justification for the retention of hundreds of pounds, obliging tenants to fight for, and rarely succeed in getting, the return of hard-earned money paid up-front.

‘There are recurring issues, such as owners not understanding the concept of reasonable wear and tear, even when the low-quality carpets and sofas they chose were threadbare to begin with.’ Photograph: Popperfoto/Getty Images

There are the problems of legal management. Owners misunderstand, ignore or forget the legal requirement to issue proper notices to quit, or the need for prior warning of inspection visits, using the power of thought or suggestion instead. Some owners I have rented from imagine they can let themselves in whenever they see fit.

Let’s be reasonable. We know that property doesn’t manage itself, and can be costly to maintain. The obligation to repair causes tension once owners, even the best-intentioned ones, grow acquainted with the expense of emergency out-of-hours plumbing.

Some owners – through indolence or meanness – would rather let the place rot; a friend’s landlord knowingly allows water from the leaky tiles to be absorbed by cavity wall insulation. Ultimately, his roof will cave in, but he doesn’t seem to care – either about the tenant or the ultimate expense. Other owners issue “revenge” notices – where tenants are forced out for insisting on damage being made good. Tenants who stand up for their rights are frequently viewed as troublemakers.

Tenants are not angelic. Some give as good as they get in the owner-tenant relationship. But the balance of power between the two is clearly in the landlord’s favour. Isn’t it time for power with more responsibility?

A requirement for landlord training would allow neophyte property moguls to escape being bogged down in pointless, petty battles with tenants. They also would learn about both the availability (and wisdom) of landlord insurance and the pros and cons of letting agents, who charge up to 15% of income and often do very little to earn it.

Being a landlord is a profitable privilege, but it isn’t one that should be automatically available to everybody. It should be earned by those who prove themselves knowledgeable and capable, having passed both a “fitting person” test and a criminal records check. Don’t forget: landlords possess keys to their tenants’ homes, and need to understand obligations. Owners would also benefit from better safeguards and more clarity because both would improve their relationships with tenants, and contented tenants stay longer in their properties.

The rentier economy marches on and will continue to do so, because set against the decline in pensions and increasing job insecurity, property is regarded as a solid guarantee against poverty. The fact that people make money from renting isn’t a problem. Nor is the fact that these transactions occur in the private sector. What’s missing and badly needed is the idea of responsibility.