If the Australian housing crisis had a soundtrack, it would be the 1992 hit “Runaway Train” by Soul Asylum. The cost of housing has grown exponentially, outpacing the average income to a crisis point where the average house costs sixteen-and-a-half years of the average household income, compared to nine years, which was the case back when Soul Asylum was blasting over the airwaves. No town, city, or state has been spared from unprecedented growth, benefiting property investors and leaving those who are not able to buy a home in a precarious position.
The 2024 People’s Commission report highlights the testimony of over 1,500 Australians facing the housing crisis. Professor Nicole Gurran, the Co-Commissioner of the report said that, “The distressing testimony we’ve heard from people who’ve experienced housing stress, insecurity and homelessness reinforces the urgency for change and the solutions required.”
The report is tremendous, covering experiences of disadvantaged, middle-income and professional Australians of all ages who have had their finances, health, mental health and life trajectories significantly impacted by the housing crisis. From young TAFE students to retiring single women, the enormity of the housing crisis is undeniable.
Economists, researchers and housing rights advocates work to highlight this reality. They are joined by the voices of millions of Australians, particularly younger people, feeling the pinch of a housing crisis and the rising cost of living. To many, it feels depressing, inequitable, and deflating. Often, however, those who raise critiques are met with insults. “Get a job, then.” “You just want handouts.” “Your generation is so entitled and lazy.” And, of course, “Stop buying avocado toast.”
Property developer Tum Gurner coined the ‘avocado toast’ argument in a now-infamous 2017 interview. It has plagued conversations about housing and renting in Australia ever since.
The retorts are, frankly, bizarre. Imagine this: at the marathon start line, the race official is told that half of the runners’ shoes have been dipped in cement. We wouldn’t tell that half to ‘run faster.’ We would halt the race.
As the housing crisis exacerbates, so does the emerging empathy crisis. This is a pervasive insinuation; that people ‘deserve’ to be in the housing crisis because of their work ethic or situation. It is troubling to hear the multi-faceted, nuanced discussion about the housing crisis be drowned out by the drone of people who already own property, telling people who do not, to “work harder.” People work hard, but it is not enough.
This makes many people feel that they are not only running with cement shoes, but that they are also being taunted from the sidelines.
@emreadman come at me with compassion bro because what the hell is this suffering olympics we have going on #housingcrisis #housingcrisisaustralia ♬ original sound – Em
Tiff, a woman in regional Queensland, highlights the frustration of being told that previous generations figured it out. “I look at what my single mum could do versus what I can do. It’s not even close. I cannot do today what she could,” says Tiff.
Zoë, a nonbinary person from Perth metro, says that, “it feels hopeless to hear dismissive commentary and snarky remarks in response to my housing struggles and anxieties; as though their willingness to try to understand my situation is dependent on my proximity to their lived experience.”
One young woman, remaining anonymous from Melbourne metro, says that, “everyone I speak to can’t see past how hard they had it. And it was hard, but now it’s exponentially harder. I just wish one older person could tell me that they see the game is different now.”
In our country’s five major capital cities city in 2025, you need to “earn more than $170,000 a year to afford the repayments on an average house”. Rents are creeping ever-upward, limiting the ability to save for a deposit. Compounding factors of stagnating wage growth, the growing class divide, housing policies written for investors, having a disability, having children or family and domestic violence are rarely discussed. Even if they are raised, the response does not change, we are told, ‘just work harder’, because back in my day I could do it.” No one denies the difficulties of the past. We are, however, asking for the exponential difficulty of the present to be met with understanding and humanity. These comments come from family members, coworkers, and even luxury real estate billboards, not just career landlords and developers. The mocking is an unnecessary cruelty that people who are struggling at unprecedented levels do not need on their shoulders.
For those fortunate enough to be exempted from the pressures of the housing crisis, if your response to hearing vulnerable people express their fear, worry, and anger is to mock, taunt, or discredit a person’s experience, I ask you to reconsider. The evidence is clear, people’s stories of struggle are real. Empathy is not hard to procure, in fact, it is one of our truly infinite assets.
Melanie, a homeowner in South East Queensland, reflects on the attitudes of fellow homeowners. “While my income is now stable, it wasn’t when I bought my house, there’s absolutely no way I’d be able to enter the market now,” she says. “The cost of living, the exponential cost of rent, and the housing shortage would have made it so difficult for me.
“I see my role as a homeowner who cares about housing as a human right to be vocal, to advocate, and not to say to people ‘if you just save money you can do it’.”
The lack of empathy towards people trapped in a crisis that they cannot out-save, out-earn or out-hustle is setting us back significantly. While some are wrapped up in the concept of worthiness, we stray further and further away from reaching a critical part of the discussion: it does not have to be like this. ‘Housing’ and ‘struggle’ should be in the same sentence.
The path forward to a more stable and accessible housing landscape cannot be derailed by a blame game devoid of compassion. The stories shared in reports, on social media, and across the dinner table have to be believed and taken seriously, both in our communities and our legislative chambers. We need multifaceted solutions that address both short and long term problems. We have to start with acknowledging that everyone deserves a safe and affordable place to live, and that we have work to do to make that happen. That acknowledgement, at least, is free.
Top photo source: Supplied/Pictured by Jenna