City in Crisis: The housing emergency's threat to the working class

By Sasha Main and Lola Lea

This article is part of a series which explores how working-class culture in Glasgow is changing. All related articles are available to read on this website. This project was produced by Flora Irvine-Hall, Sasha Main, Ryan Mullen, and Lola Lea.

Since November 2023, Glasgow has been in a housing emergency. Currently, Glasgow City Council states that there is a waiting time of 44 weeks for social housing for a single person, and five years for housing for a family.

Recent reports from publications such as the Glasgow Times suggest that, in reality, families seeking accommodation could face waiting lists of 100 years. Undeniably, for those being priced out of the city by rising rent costs, there are few options to turn to.

In the past few years, Glasgow has seen the highest increase in rent in the entirety of the UK. According to a report compiled by Zoopla for the BBC, between 2020 and 2023, the average rent price in Glasgow increased by 38.9%. However, according to the Office for National Statistics, the average annual salary in Scotland only rose by 12.38% in that time.

Behind the statistics and policy debates, Glasgow’s housing crisis has a deeply human dimension. For working-class people in particular, the lack of affordable, stable accommodation is not just a housing issue, it is a crisis that affects every aspect of their lives.

Samara (whose real name will remain protected for her privacy) is a 21-year-old from Glasgow who spent several months in temporary accommodation after being unable to find housing. Now in stable social housing, Samara agreed to share some insights into her experience of living in Glasgow’s housing crisis, a struggle that is all too familiar to many young people in the city.

She said: “For three weeks I was staying with a friend, and then I had to call them (Glasgow Council) and tell them I needed somewhere to go, and they managed to get me a hotel room that night. I was there from June 2024 to January 2025.”

As rents have soared over recent years, many people have found themselves priced out of the private rental market entirely. For those working low-wage jobs or juggling insecure or part-time employment, the cost of a basic one-bedroom flat is now far beyond reach. The result is a growing population living in precarious situations: sleeping on friends’ sofas, staying in overcrowded family homes, or cycling through temporary accommodation without any clear path to a permanent solution.

In 2018, there were 87,895 applications for discretionary housing payments reported by the Scottish Government; by 2024, this number had risen to 124,215, growing by almost half in just six years. If rent rises continue to take place at the same rate, those who are unable to be placed in social housing, or who cannot sustain living in temporary accommodation, will have little chance of being able to find property in the private rental sector.

At Glasgow’s recent May Day march and rally, the Scottish Socialist Party (SSP) called for increased taxation on Scotland’s wealthiest to fund better infrastructure for the working class.

Jamie, president of the Glasgow students’ arm of the SSP, said: “In a country as rich in resources and space and obviously as financially wealthy as Scotland, there’s no reason for a housing crisis. You only need to walk down Buchanan Street to see how many people are currently living houseless in Scotland.”

Glasgow's May Day march

Living Rent is Scotland’s mass-membership tenants’ and community union. Founded in 2024, they are a members’ union that fights for working-class people and minority groups living in rented property. Among protests, manifestos and meetings, Living Rent prioritises disputing rent hikes and short-term lets, promoting stable and fair housing across Scotland.

In a recent open letter sent to the council by Living Rent, they stated: “Latest figures show that visitors spent £2.35 billion in Glasgow in 2023, almost 50% more than in 2022. At the same time, 36,000 people are on social housing waiting lists and 7,266 people are in temporary accommodation, including 2,765 children.”

Glasgow’s temporary accommodation system, while a necessary safety net, is under immense strain. Hostels, B&Bs, and other forms of emergency housing are consistently at capacity. These are often unsuitable environments, particularly those with complex needs or a history of trauma. Shared facilities, lack of privacy and short-term leases can create feelings of insecurity and stress, especially when residents have no clear timeline for moving on to permanent housing.

“There’s no cooking facilities,” said Samara, describing her time in temporary accommodation. “They give you a breakfast pack in the morning so you were getting provided with one meal a day, but it was a very small tub of yoghurt, a pain au chocolat, and a little carton of juice. Thats all they would provide for you. I lost a lot of weight and ended up in hospital with problems with my liver because I was not able to eat enough food.”

Currently, the council receives around 175 homeless applications per week, and almost 1500 B&B rooms are being used to provide emergency shelter for those in need, which is also being divided between asylum seekers coming to Glasgow. For each asylum seeker in Glasgow, the Home Office provides only £750 in support per year.

The experience of housing insecurity is disruptive and often traumatic. Young people who are forced into temporary living arrangements lose more than just a roof over their heads. They lose stability, privacy, and the ability to plan for the future. Basic routines like going to work, attending college or university, or keeping healthcare appointments become significantly more difficult when they’re unsure of where they will be sleeping next week.

Living Rent believes that the new tourist tax being implemented by Glasgow City Council should be used to improve the city’s housing infrastructure and to build more adequate social housing, rather than being reinvested into tourism. They are calling for 25% of all new homes built in Scotland to be allocated as social housing.

Living Rent's bloc at Glasgow May Day

Jamie of the SSP said: “It could be solved so easily by building more sustainable council housing. The SSP has a policy of building 10,000 environmentally friendly council houses, which would help to address the housing crisis. It’s purely down to the greed of a few that are getting wealthier and wealthier that the rest of us are suffering, and as we are, homelessness is on the rise.”

While the tangible threat to Glasgow’s working class can be proven on paper, the emotional toll is less visible.

For many, becoming homeless or facing eviction can lead to feelings of shame, isolation, and hopelessness. Some are reluctant to seek help for fear of stigma, or because they have already been let down by overstretched services. In many cases, the lack of a stable home also weakens existing support networks, as friends and family members may be unable or unwilling to provide long-term accommodation.

Samara said, “The past year has been the most mentally exhausting time of my life. I remain hopeful that I’m able to build myself back up again, but sometimes it does get hard, and you lose yourself a bit. It’s very isolating.”

While on the waiting list, those seeking secure housing often have to navigate confusing bureaucracy, attend multiple assessments, and live in limbo while competing for limited resources. The uncertainty can take a psychological toll, leaving many feeling powerless in the face of a system that seems slow to respond to their needs.

Samara said: “Most people I spoke to in the hotel had had bad experiences with the social workers provided by the council, the only time the social workers did anything for me was when I put in a formal complaint against my social worker. I fear that’s how I got my flat quicker than others.”

There are also hidden costs to society at large. Housing instability can lead to increased demand for mental health services, lost productivity and greater strain on public resources. When young people are unable to secure a stable home, the effects ripple outward, impacting their education, employment prospects, and long-term wellbeing.

What emerges from this crisis is a generation growing up with little faith in the housing system. For many, the idea of renting their own flat or one day owning a home feels like an unattainable dream. Instead of building independent lives, they are forced to remain in survival mode, focusing on short-term solutions and coping with the stress of constant uncertainty.

Block of flats in Glasgow. Credit: Unsplash

Even for those who have secured a private rental, the threat of rent raises looms large. However, Living Rent has shown some hope in challenging threats to secure housing. Their 2025 report on challenging rent increases stated: “Our analysis of decisions by Rent Service Scotland (RSS) found that, on average, they halved the rent increase proposed by the landlord. This was consistent with our survey which found that of those that challenged their rent increase, nearly to fifths saw their rent increase reduced to between 10 and 12% and a third saw it reduced to lower than 10%.”

This may provide some solace for working-class individuals facing unaffordable rent prices, but for those who are yet to secure somewhere to live, the situation is still dire.

Samara shared how her experiences have changed since moving into permanent accommodation in social housing: “I’m currently doing my law degree, so it’s helped me focus again because I’m not having to worry about my safety or when I’m going to have food on the table, like an actual, proper meal.”

She said: “My story is not just individual; it’s a collective story. We’re not expecting people to help us, we’re expecting the government to fulfil their duty of care over us.”

The human cost of Glasgow’s housing crisis cannot be measured in numbers alone. It is written in the stories of those navigating homelessness, in the anxiety felt by those facing eviction notices, and in the day-to-day struggles of the city’s working classes simply trying to find a place to call home.