Modern Day Slaves

Tim Gurner, a property developer in Melbourne, Australia, says 'When I was trying to buy my first home, I wasn’t buying smashed avocado for $19' (just over £10) 'and four coffees at $4 each. We’re at a point now where the expectations of younger people are very, very high.' (15/5/17)

Abbie slices a generous corner from her sourdough toast and scoops a mix of the avocado and mushroom topping, stirring in a little of the thick egg yolk. She places it in her mouth and smiles at the luxurious taste, the balance of flavours, and at her date opposite. He pours his AeroPress coffee from the clear beaker into his cup, the liquid paler than the usual thick brown mass, slightly more bitter and eminently more satisfying. It is a Sunday morning and the Northern Quarter of Manchester is already buzzing with life. Other people's enjoyment is contagious and the brunch date is going well.

'I have friends,' he says, 'that never go out. They tell me that to save up for a house you should never buy coffee, always brew your own, never buy drinks, just get plastered on pre-drinks at home, and certainly never succumb to the temptation of brunch.'

'What do they do on a date?' asks Abbie, savouring the lingering flavours of her avocado.

Her date licks his lips subtly but seductively. 'Beats me. Why do you need to worry about buying at twenty eight?'

They laugh. Life is good. They are free.

The average cost of a home in London is more than 14 times average earnings – the highest level on record, according to figures from property consultancy Hometrack. (Guardian 25/11/16)

'I managed the entire month's shop for less than a hundred pounds,' proclaims Frank as he pushes value products into the depths of the dilapidated kitchen cupboards, 'including the vodka'. He wears a smile that although on the face of it self satisfied, belies a deep uneasiness at what he will eat over the next thirty days. His skin is becoming dry.

'The question is,' laughs Denise, 'did you manage to do it without resorting to baked beans?'

'No baked beans. Not even the cheap tins. No baked beans on toast.' Part of the reason for this is that he has walked the mile and a half back from their nearest superstore and there is a limit to the weight one man can carry; it was too expensive to run a car.

'I'm so relieved,' she replies, wondering what might be the alternative. Live cheaply they had agreed, but never buy baked beans. But in truth they had never come up with a better alternative, although they both played the illusion.

'How much did we save last month for our deposit?' she asks excitedly as the bank statement sits unopened on the table. They stare at it, neither reaching out as if a game of slapsies. Finally she grabs the envelope and rips it open, searching for the number at the bottom. They know the figures off by heart, they know exactly what they want this number to be.

She makes a fist pump. 'Yes! Twelve pounds over. Two hundred and thirty two pounds we saved this month.'

Frank unscrews the vodka bottle and pours two very small tumblers of the clear liquid. 'Here's to our deposit,' he toasts, knowing that it will still take a very, very long time to save enough for the flat they have in mind.

They laugh. Life will be good. They will be free.

Young people are bearing much of the burden: in the past 25 years the rate of home-ownership has fallen by 30 percentage points among 25- to 34-year-olds. Small wonder that Sajid Javid, the communities secretary, on February 7th boldly declared that the housing market was “broken”. (Economist 9/2/17)