By modern standards, I live in a “dog box”. My unit is a 38 sq metre one-bedder on the ground floor of a classic Sydney 1960s red-brick apartment block. Located on the south-west end of the building, it doesn’t get much sunlight and sometimes the planes fly so low overhead they rattle the windows. The kitchen has just enough bench space for one chopping board, and when the dryer’s running, it can get so humid that water drips down the walls.
It’s brilliant.
My sister lives just down the street and there’s a bus that goes straight to my parents’ house. The shops are five minutes’ walk away, as are the gym, restaurants and parks. My partner and I can both ride our bikes to work, and the unit is so small we can clean it in less than an hour. We’ve covered the walls with happy memories and colourful artworks. Being Sydney, it’s certainly not cheap, but our rent is very reasonable for the area.
It would also be illegal to build today. Over the years, an increasingly complex set of rules has set minimum standards for new apartments well above our humble home. By modern standards, it’s almost 25% below the minimum size for a one-bedder, there’s not enough storage space, the bedroom is too small and I doubt it passes solar access requirements.
Yet for us it’s perfect. We’re happy to live in a dark apartment of less than 50 sq metres because it means we can be close to work, shops, services, family and public transport at a price we can afford.
A controversial recent report by the New South Wales Productivity and Equality Commission recommended relaxing apartment size and design requirements to provide more choice and to encourage rapid construction of cheaper apartments.
That’s because these standards add to construction costs; larger apartments need more land and materials than smaller ones, while solar access and design rules make it harder to fit as many units on to one site. Some local councils are already looking to implement some of these recommendations, and statewide reforms may soon follow.
This was met with dismay from architects, planners and other advocates – claiming that without these standards we’d have “a future full of apartments with dead plants”. Yet many of these people mourn the loss of similar boarding houses or small apartments in wealthy areas of the city. When it comes to these buildings, we can see the value of allowing people to economise on space and amenities so they can live in an expensive location. How can we mourn the loss of basic apartments when they’re old but ban the construction of new ones just like them?
Of course more space and light is desirable, but when asked to put their money where their mouth is, there are plenty of people just like me who don’t want or need the amounts required by law. If people truly hated living in poorly lit, small apartments, this would be reflected in how much they were willing to pay to buy or rent one – and developers wouldn’t want to build them. After all, new apartments still come with space for a fridge and cupboards despite not being required by law – because people value these features more than they cost a developer to supply.
Rather than protecting the interests of future residents, these regulations delay much-needed homes and impose the aesthetic preferences of wealthy architects and bureaucrats on to people who can’t afford them.
Unlike building safety features or construction quality, people can easily understand and assess how much space, light and storage they are getting when they sign on to a new apartment, and we should trust them to make the decision that works best for them.
It’s like airlines: we regulate the safety of the planes and ensure pilots are qualified – things that are hard for an average punter to assess – but let people choose how much legroom and in-flight food they want to pay for.
Banning economy class doesn’t mean everyone gets to fly business – it means those who can’t afford business don’t fly at all. Banning small, basic apartments means more displacement, homelessness and overcrowded sharehouses, often with less space, worse light and poorer living conditions.
Dog boxes like mine aren’t for everyone. If you had kids or regularly worked from home or didn’t value being close to the amenities that we love, you’d be better off elsewhere.
But just because it doesn’t work for everyone doesn’t mean it should be illegal.
• Dominic Behrens is an economist and committee member of housing advocacy organisation Sydney Yimby. Views are his own
