“Can anyone,” I asked on Twitter on Tuesday, “make the case that housing minister is personally and individually a meaningful and influential post when, among the 39 ministers since 1945, there have been seven since 2010 and three in Theresa May’s 18 months as PM?”
You won’t be surprised to hear I got nothing back in the affirmative.
Assuming that transient politicians require experience in, and solutions to, the problems that their portfolios exist to address is an easy trap to fall into. They don’t. That’s what a skilled civil service providing continuity is there for.
But, unquestionably, government ministers need time to familiarise themselves with their briefs, to establish relationships with an industry’s principal protagonists, to glue together interest groups which seldom see eye to eye and to act as judge in defining a path forward. Leadership in other words.
In housing, and in other ministries of state, how is that possible when the door to the minister’s office revolves so often, depositing another incumbent in the hot seat?
Dominic Raab is the latest to land this week, replacing Alok Sharma who lasted just seven months.
Sharma’s tenure was pointless. Not because of what he did or didn’t do – his genuine listening post-Grenfell earned him respect. But for the fact that to be in place for such a short period of time only fuels cynicism and contempt.
How does it offer comfort to a family struck by tragedy and searching for answers? How does it convince a sceptical public that government is serious about – and capable of – solving the housing crisis?
And how does it persuade this industry that Raab is someone worth investing time in when he may well have moved on before the year is out?
It’s not a perfect parallel, but how would it be if Berkeley, Barratt or British Land went through chief executives as frequently as the government goes through housing ministers?
Yes, they would have boards to offer continuity and governance at the very top, and heads of development who would provide consistency on the ground.
But such frequent turnover in as important and symbolic a role as chief executive would not convince investors that theirs was a business to take seriously.
There are plenty of reasons to question how effective a housing minister Raab himself will be, given a track record that suggests a less than enthusiastic attitude to development. But that’s almost by the by.
Yes, the government has put housing’s name above the title on the old Department of Communities and Local Government’s signage.
Yes, Sajid Javid – Raab’s boss – is now secretary of state for housing, communities and local government.
And yes, the last Labour government went through housing ministers with alarming frequency too.
But if we are to believe that this government has the wherewithal and the will to the support the delivery of homes at scale and at pace (and there are strengthening arguments that only an enlightened private sector working with state agencies can do so), is there any evidence to convince us that a housing minister is a necessary agent of change?
Rather than elevate the post of housing minister, as I have previously argued, perhaps it’s time to abolish it altogether.
To send feedback, e-mail damian.wild@egi.co.uk or tweet @DamianWild or @estatesgazette
