The World Matters: SDG 11: No Place to Call Home
Why the Global Housing Crisis Isn’t Just Structural — It’s Systemic
I’ve lived in more cities than I can count — worked across four continents, watched skylines rise and neighbourhoods vanish, sometimes in the same year. But no matter where I’ve gone, one truth keeps showing up: if people don’t have a stable place to live, nothing else sticks. Not progress. Not growth. Not hope.
That’s why this issue isn’t just close to home — it is home. This is my response to a clear and timely call: in a recent World Economic Forum post, where Jonathan Reckford — CEO of Habitat for Humanity International — urged world leaders to confront the global housing emergency not just with urgency, but with unity.
Reckford laid out a bold, collaborative vision: one that brings the public and private sectors together to build homes that are sustainable, resilient, affordable — and above all, inclusive. He argued that housing isn’t just about shelter. It’s about systems. And the only way forward is through shared responsibility and policies that put people — especially low-income families — at the centre of urban development.
This article builds on that premise. Because Reckford is right: what’s needed now is not just more homes, but better ones — and a broader coalition committed to building them.
By 2030, an estimated 3 billion people could be living without access to safe, adequate, and affordable housing. That’s not a forecast — it’s a warning. It means that more than a third of the global population will be living without the basic conditions for security, opportunity, or rest.
This isn’t theoretical. You can already see it in the overcrowded apartments of Cairo, the tent cities of LA, the abandoned tower blocks in Istanbul, and the flood-prone slums on the outskirts of Jakarta. The crisis has arrived. It just hasn’t been distributed evenly — yet.
We often talk about housing as if it’s a technical issue: zoning, finance, concrete. But it’s not. Housing is the place where every other right starts. Education. Safety. Health. Work. Belonging. And right now, those foundations are crumbling.
“The global housing crisis is too big for any single actor to fix. We need bold public–private collaboration to drive inclusive, sustainable urban development — and to ensure everyone, especially low-income families, has a place to call home.” — Jonathan Reckford, CEO, Habitat for Humanity International
This isn’t just a crisis of buildings. It’s a crisis of imagination — and of will.
A Crisis That’s Already Here
You don’t need to wait until 2030 to understand what housing insecurity looks like. Just walk a few blocks in the wrong direction in any major city. It’s already here. It’s just unevenly acknowledged — and too often ignored.
In San Francisco, luxury tech compounds exist within walking distance of sprawling tent cities. In London, schoolteachers commute two hours each way because they can’t afford a flat anywhere near the classroom. In Lagos and Manila, unregulated construction and informal settlements sprawl faster than any infrastructure can keep up with.
But this isn’t just about people without homes. It’s about people living in unsafe ones. Or insecure ones. Or homes so expensive they can’t afford anything else — including food, transport, or heat.
This is precariousness. And it’s spreading.
The consequences go beyond individual hardship. Poor housing drives poor health, drops educational performance, and fuels inequality. It divides cities into invisible castes — those with stable addresses, and those without access to opportunity, voting, or even basic services.
And while developers claim a “housing shortage,” the real issue is distribution — not supply. Luxury apartments sit empty as investment assets while families sleep in cars. Entire blocks are flipped for speculation while public housing waits for maintenance that never comes.
This system isn’t broken. It’s functioning exactly as it was designed to: to protect capital, not people.
Four Pillars, One Urgent Mission
Solving the housing crisis isn’t just about building more. It’s about building right.
That means knowing what we’re aiming for — not just in terms of numbers, but in terms of principles. Because if we don’t decide what “better” means, the market will. And the market doesn’t build for belonging. It builds for return on investment.
That’s why the World Economic Forum and Habitat for Humanity have laid out four non-negotiables — four pillars that every housing solution should be built on: Liveability. Sustainability. Resilience. Affordability.
These aren’t buzzwords. They’re survival conditions for any society that wants to stay standing.
Liveability
It’s not just about square footage. A home is only liveable if it connects to life. That means access to public services — water, waste, transport, education, care. It means a neighbourhood that’s safe, walkable, green, and human.
Too often, we settle for housing that boxes people in but cuts them off — from jobs, from health, from the very things that make life more than survival.
“The house is not just a machine to live in — it is the stage set for life.” — David Adjaye
Sustainability
The way we build is wrecking the world we live in. Cement alone accounts for 8% of global CO₂ emissions. Poor insulation drains energy. Fragile systems collapse in storms, floods, fires.
Sustainable housing isn’t a luxury — it’s how we keep cities habitable. That means low-impact materials. Net-zero energy systems. Passive design that respects climate and culture.
If we keep building homes that harm the planet, there won’t be a planet left to live on.
Resilience
Crisis is no longer the exception — it’s the operating condition. Earthquakes, fires, displacement, pandemics, inflation. Every new build should be future-proofed for volatility — structurally, socially, economically.
That means flexibility in design. It means shared ownership, disaster resistance, and social safety nets built into the housing ecosystem. It means homes that don’t just survive shocks — they help people bounce back from them.
Affordability
Let’s not overcomplicate this. If people can’t afford a home, it’s not a housing solution. It’s a financial product.
We need systems that cap speculation and promote ownership. That support rent-to-own schemes, co-ops, and public investment. That make it possible for a nurse, a teacher, or a street vendor to live with dignity near where they work.
Because when housing becomes a luxury, society becomes a fortress.
This is precisely the kind of framework Reckford argues we need — a shared foundation that aligns private-sector scale with public-sector accountability.
These four pillars aren’t optional. Every time we ignore one, we build something that looks stable — until it’s tested. And then we realise: what we built was never a home. It was a liability waiting to collapse.
Where It Is Already Working
It’s easy to feel like the housing crisis is too big to solve. But the truth is, solutions already exist — scattered across the map like signals from a future that’s trying to break through.
These aren’t utopias. They’re real cities, real models, real communities who chose differently. They show what happens when housing is treated not as a speculative asset — but as a social infrastructure.
Regent Park, Toronto
Once one of Canada’s most notorious social housing blocks, Regent Park was written off for years — underfunded, over-policed, and pushed to the edges of political memory.
But in the last decade, something remarkable happened. Through a long-term partnership between the city, community groups, and developers, Regent Park was reborn. Not just demolished and rebuilt — but reimagined.
It’s now a mixed-income, mixed-use neighbourhood where subsidised homes sit next to market-rate apartments. Where schools, shops, cafés, parks, and public art exist for everyone — not just the lucky few.
It hasn’t been perfect. Gentrification pressures remain. But it proves something critical: when trust is built, and when design serves people, housing can heal the wounds it once deepened.
Échale a tu Casa, Mexico
In Mexico, the solution didn’t come from above — it came from within.
The Échale model empowers families to build their own homes using local materials and community labour. It’s participatory, affordable, and deeply human. Over 250,000 homes have been built this way — brick by brick, neighbour by neighbour.
This isn’t charity. It’s ownership. It’s dignity through action. It’s the opposite of top-down dependency — and it works because people don’t just live in the result. They help create it.
GHTC, India
India’s Global Housing Technology Challenge isn’t just a funding scheme. It’s a call for design innovation. From prefabricated bamboo homes to modular concrete structures adapted to different regions, the focus is on what works locally.
Because mass housing doesn’t have to mean soulless towers. With the right technology and intent, scale can serve culture — not erase it.
Vienna, Austria
And then there’s Vienna — the global gold standard.
Over 60% of residents live in publicly supported housing. Not slums. Not leftovers. High-quality, architect-designed, mixed-income homes with rent controls and long-term public ownership.
The result? Housing costs stay low. Homelessness is rare. Gentrification is manageable. And neighbourhoods remain stable across generations.
Vienna proves that public housing doesn’t have to be a last resort. It can be a first principle.
“Cities have the capability of providing something for everybody — only because, and only when, they are created by everybody.” — Jane Jacobs
What these places share isn’t a single ideology. They share a refusal to accept that the housing market must dictate how we live. They show that with vision, partnerships, and trust — we can build homes that serve communities, not just balance sheets.
The Turning Point: Rethinking Housing Futures in Turkey
If there’s one country that sits squarely at the crossroads of urgency and opportunity, it’s Turkey.
The signs are stark. From the endless sprawl of Istanbul swallowing farmland and pushing people further from their livelihoods — to the devastated cityscapes of Hatay, Adıyaman, and Kahramanmaraş, where the 2023 earthquakes exposed not just physical fragility, but institutional failure.
And yet, within that same terrain is the chance to lead. Not with slogans, but with blueprints.
Because while other nations are paralysed by market inertia, Turkey is already experimenting — often from the ground up — with forms of housing that are smaller, smarter, and more socially coherent.
Tiny House Communities — Minimalism Meets Mobility
What once felt like a fringe lifestyle trend has become a lifeline for a generation priced out of the city. In İzmir, Çanakkale, and along the Aegean coast, tiny house cooperatives are gaining traction — not just as compact homes, but as community platforms.
These villages reduce construction impact, energy use, and financial strain. They offer young families, freelancers, retirees, and displaced workers a dignified base — without the weight of 30-year mortgages or endless rent traps.
And unlike the tower blocks of the past, these homes scale horizontally — in connection with nature, not in competition with it.
Shipping Container Conversions — From Emergency to Adaptability
In post-earthquake zones and urban fringes alike, shipping containers are being converted into quick-build, structurally sound homes. Initially seen as emergency shelters, they’re now being reimagined — with insulation, solar panels, and modular layouts that can grow with the family.
From student housing in Ankara to pop-up housing collectives near Gaziantep, they’re proving that speed doesn’t have to mean disposability — and affordability doesn’t have to mean neglect.
Co-operative Financing and Local Governance
The real bottleneck isn’t just building materials. It’s trust in the system.
That’s why new forms of co-ownership and community financing are emerging — slowly, but visibly. From village restoration projects in the east to greenfield developments on the periphery of Antalya, people are asking: what if we didn’t wait for top-down solutions?
What if housing could be shaped by the people who live in it?
But let’s be clear: none of this will scale without structural change.
Zoning laws still treat alternative housing like second-class solutions. Municipal support is patchy. And banks remain fixated on conventional real estate models. What Turkey needs now is not just innovation — but institutional permission to let that innovation take root.
Because this isn’t just about shelter. It’s about sovereignty — the right to live in a space that fits your means, your needs, and your future.
The Next Generation Already Can’t Get In
We talk about a housing crisis as if it’s some slow-building storm on the horizon. But for the next generation — it’s already arrived. Not with a bang, but with a locked door globally.
Here in Turkey, over 60% of the population is under 35. That’s millions of young people entering adulthood in a market that offers them little more than shrinking space, ballooning rent, and dreams that no longer scale. The idea of owning a home isn’t just delayed. For many, it’s being written off entirely.
This isn’t about ambition. It’s about access.
Even middle-income professionals — teachers, nurses, engineers — can no longer afford to live in the neighbourhoods they grew up in. Even if they manage to scrape together a deposit, rising interest rates and predatory lending terms trap them in decades of debt. And those without family wealth? They’re not even in the game.
Meanwhile, landlords flip apartments like trading cards. Gated compounds grow on city fringes. Urban cores are hollowed out — not by disaster, but by exclusion.
This is the quiet crisis: a generation pushed to the edges of cities, and the margins of society, not by a lack of effort, but by a system designed to reward speculation over stability.
“We’ve created a world where young people can access credit to buy a car — but not a home. That’s not a market failure. That’s a moral one.” — Conversations in youth housing policy forums, Istanbul 2024
And the damage isn’t just economic — it’s emotional. When you can’t secure a place to live, how do you plan a future? How do you invest in your neighbourhood, your career, your country? The psychological toll is real — anxiety, burnout, alienation.
If we don’t act, we won’t just lose an economic generation. We’ll lose a civic one — disconnected, displaced, and disillusioned.
When the Climate Hits Home
Turkey’s housing crisis isn’t just about affordability or access. It’s about exposure — to disaster, to displacement, to a climate that no longer plays by old rules.
The 2023 earthquakes were a national tragedy. But they were also a brutal audit of decades of neglect — in planning, in enforcement, in design. Millions were displaced in under a minute. Buildings that should have stood didn’t. And the ones that did revealed a different kind of fault line: corruption, corner-cutting, and institutional denial.
But it won’t stop with earthquakes.
The Mediterranean coast is facing rising sea levels and saltwater intrusion. Inland cities are baking under longer, hotter summers. Power grids are strained by cooling needs in poorly insulated buildings. And rural villages are seeing once-stable ecosystems give way to drought, flood, or fire.
We’ve spent decades building homes for a past climate. Now we have to retrofit — or rebuild — for the one we actually live in.
And yet, most new housing developments still chase short-term margins. Quick builds. Poor materials. No regard for water runoff, solar orientation, or heat absorption. It’s housing as product — not protection.
“Architecture is not only shelter. It is also expression. People need both.” — Shigeru Ban
If the home is where life happens, then a climate-resilient home is where survival begins. That means designing for disaster. Elevating structures. Improving drainage. Using materials that cool, not trap heat. Planting trees, not just parking lots.
It also means recognising who gets hit first. Vulnerable communities — in informal settlements, old apartment blocks, or edge-of-town zones — are always on the front line. Climate injustice and housing injustice are now the same crisis.
Because what good is a mortgage if the roof can’t hold? What use is a front door if the floodwater comes through the back?
If we want people to stay — not just survive but stay — we have to build homes that hold.
Building Belonging: The Case for Community-Centric Design
In the Gulf, something is shifting — not just in architecture, but in attitude. Where once the focus was on scale, spectacle, and skyline dominance, a new conversation is taking root. One centred on community-first urbanism.
At a recent construction and design expo in Riyadh, a phrase kept surfacing: community-centric housing. Not as a niche concept — but as a structural ambition. One that puts people before plans. One that considers not just where we live, but how we live together.
Saudi Arabia’s Vision 2030 may be best known for mega-projects — but projects like the AMAALA Employee Village and the Diriyah Gate masterplan are telling a more nuanced story. These aren’t just luxury zones. They’re human-scaled, walkable, public-facing spaces designed to encourage encounter, not escape.
The principle is simple but radical: housing isn’t just about units. It’s about connection. And the built environment can either strengthen that — or sever it.
“Our approach is always about creating human-centric environments. We believe good design can restore dignity.” — Sir Norman Foster, on the Hatay masterplan
In Turkey, this matters. Because after the devastation of 2023, the real rebuilding has only just begun. Not just of roads or structures — but of trust, coherence, and community memory. Projects like the Foster + Partners Hatay Masterplan aim to do more than replace what was lost. They aim to reweave what was torn.
Wide pavements. Shaded walkways. Central squares. Places to gather, to remember, to rest. Not every home will be luxurious. But every neighbourhood can offer dignity.
“Great communities aren’t made in blueprints. They’re made in courtyards, cafés, sidewalks — in the everyday choreography of shared life.” — Adapted from the Jeffrey DeMure design manifesto
What’s emerging across the region is a counter-narrative to isolation. A shift away from gated compounds and car-centric sprawls — toward shared greenspace, inclusive zoning, and multi-use planning. The kinds of places where people want to walk, linger, participate.
This isn’t just aesthetic. It’s political. Because when people feel connected, they’re more likely to invest — in their street, their safety, and their society. And that’s the real power of housing: not just to shelter, but to anchor.
What Can We Actually Do Now?
Big frameworks matter. So do bold policies. But if you're reading this from a rented room, a shrinking budget, or a planning department that’s running on fumes — the real question isn’t “What should be done?”
It’s: What can I actually do now — with what I’ve got?
Here’s what’s already working — not in theory, but on the ground. In Turkey. And around the world.
In Turkey
1. Tiny Home Cooperatives
Small-footprint housing isn't just a lifestyle trend — it’s a lifeline. In places like İzmir, Muğla, and Çanakkale, tiny home clusters are emerging as affordable, sustainable alternatives for young families and retirees. These communities offer shared green space, collective governance, and lower living costs — without sacrificing dignity.
2. Retrofitting Existing Stock
Not every solution starts with new construction. Across Turkey, hundreds of thousands of buildings are earthquake-prone, poorly insulated, or energy-draining. Block-by-block retrofitting — focused on seismic reinforcement, insulation, and renewable energy — is not just cheaper than rebuilding. It saves lives.
3. Shipping Container Units
Originally designed for emergency relief, converted container homes are now being used for mid-term housing — especially in post-quake zones and informal settlements. Fast to install, easy to relocate, and structurally sound, these units work for students, displaced families, or seasonal workers when designed with care.
4. Legal and Financial Literacy
The greatest housing innovation might be this: understanding the system. From shared title deeds to co-operative ownership models, many renters and low-income families don’t realise what tools they already have access to. Community workshops, NGO-supported training, and local legal aid can make the invisible rules visible — and negotiable.
Globally
1. Modular Infill Housing
Cities like Melbourne, Nairobi, and Barcelona are experimenting with stackable prefab units on unused or underused plots — behind public buildings, above parking lots, beside transit corridors. It’s low-cost, fast, and scalable — especially when zoning rules are flexible.
2. Community Land Trusts & Co-ops
From Boston to Berlin to Montevideo, CLTs and co-ops lock in affordability by separating land from speculative markets. Residents collectively manage and protect the land — and no one can flip it for profit. It’s not just a home. It’s a stake in permanence.
3. Rent-to-Own Microfinance
Rather than demanding a 30% deposit up front, new financing models in Latin America and Southeast Asia allow tenants to build equity over time. This approach transforms renters into stakeholders — giving them more than just keys, but agency.
These aren’t silver bullets. But they’re real. They’re working. And they’re replicable — if we shift our mindset from idealism to pragmatism, and from blame to build.
The future won’t be saved by megaprojects alone. It will be shaped by hundreds of thousands of small-scale, people-first solutions — adapted, tested, and trusted.
Global Lessons Worth Adapting
If you want to understand what works in housing — really works — you don’t need to reinvent the wheel. You just need to study the cities that stopped treating housing as a commodity and started treating it as infrastructure.
These aren’t perfect models. But they’re functional ones. Practical ones. And they’re built on a shared truth: when housing is designed for stability, not speculation, society becomes more liveable — for everyone.
Singapore — Public Housing as National Infrastructure
Singapore didn’t become a housing success story by accident. Over 80% of its citizens live in government-built housing, most of it owned through long-term leasehold. These aren’t anonymous high-rises. They’re well-maintained, multi-income communities with public schools, markets, and transport woven in.
The secret isn’t just funding. It’s integration. Housing is treated like healthcare or education — a system, not a sideline.
Uruguay — Mutual Aid Housing Co-ops
In Montevideo and beyond, mutual aid cooperatives (known as cooperativas de vivienda por ayuda mutua) allow low-income families to build their homes collectively, using sweat equity and shared governance. Materials are subsidised. The land is protected. And members vote on how the community runs.
It’s not fast. But it’s profoundly stable — and deeply democratic.
Germany — Baugruppen (Building Groups)
In Berlin, Freiburg, and Hamburg, Baugruppen (or “building groups”) allow citizens to pool resources, hire an architect, and build custom co-housing together. It’s a way to bypass speculative developers, lower costs, and create exactly the kind of homes and shared spaces residents want — from day one.
It’s urban co-design at its best. And it works without top-down control.
South Korea — Smart Density in Seoul
Seoul’s answer to a space-starved city wasn’t to spread out — but to go smart. Micro-apartments with efficient layouts. Integrated public transport. Digital services tied into housing systems. And a strong regulatory environment that encourages adaptive reuse of space.
It’s not always warm and fuzzy — but it’s clean, efficient, and forward-looking.
Finland — Housing First, Not Bureaucracy First
Finland made a radical decision: to solve homelessness, start by giving people homes. No conditions. No endless forms. Just keys and support. Since then, homelessness has plummeted. Emergency shelters have been replaced with permanent housing. And dignity, not punishment, became policy.
“The cost of not housing people is always higher — socially, financially, and morally.” — Adapted from Y-Foundation Finland policy briefing
Each of these models is built on different systems, cultures, and values. But they all ask the same question: What is housing for?
And the answer is always the same: not profit. Not prestige. But possibility — for people to live, grow, and belong.
This Isn’t Just Urgent — It’s Immediate
We tend to talk about the housing crisis as if it’s part of the future — something coming toward us at the speed of policy cycles. But it’s not the future. It’s the now. It’s not building. It’s already built — into our cities, our laws, and our inequality.
“The shelter crisis isn’t looming. It’s already here. And it’s tearing the social contract apart.”
Let’s put this plainly: By 2030, over 40% of the world’s urban population could be living in slums or informal settlements. That’s nearly 2 billion people — living without stable infrastructure, formal rights, or climate protection. Not because of natural disasters. But because of design. Policy design. Market design. And the deliberate withdrawal of responsibility.
And the climate crisis is compounding everything.
As temperatures rise, the cost of keeping a home livable — or even safe — rises with it. Cooling systems strain power grids. Coastal settlements face encroaching seas. Inland communities run out of water. Entire geographies become uninhabitable — and migration is no longer a matter of choice.
This isn’t just a housing emergency. It’s a systems-level reckoning.
What happens when people can’t afford to live in the cities they work in? What happens when those cities become engines of exclusion? What happens when housing — the most basic form of stability — becomes the sharpest edge of inequality?
“We can’t solve inequality if we don’t solve housing. Because without a home, you have no base. No vote. No voice.” — UN Habitat forum panel, Nairobi 2023
And here’s the kicker: the fallout doesn’t stay in one place.
It bleeds into education outcomes. Healthcare systems. Productivity. Mental health. Polarisation. Social unrest. Entire economies.
Because a world where billions are priced out of dignity is not just unjust. It’s unstable.
What You Can Do
No one person — no one policy, no single institution — is going to fix this. But that doesn’t mean we’re powerless. Change happens when enough of us start pulling in the same direction, in the same window of time.
Whether you’re a policymaker, a developer, a citizen, or someone just trying to get through the month — you have a role. And it starts with seeing housing not as an abstract problem, but as the place where every other solution begins.
For Policymakers and City Leaders
Treat housing like infrastructure. That means funding it, regulating it, maintaining it — the same way we do roads or schools. Homes are public goods. The market can’t carry that alone.
Reform zoning laws. Allow for smaller homes, denser footprints, co-housing models, and mixed-use buildings. Stop privileging car-centric, exclusionary layouts.
Support resilient retrofits. Invest in programs that make homes safer and greener — especially for vulnerable populations. One building at a time still saves lives.
Invest in land trusts and long-term affordability. Stop flipping land like poker chips. Anchor value where people actually live.
For Developers, Investors, and Builders
Build for value, not just valuation. Ask not what’s profitable next quarter — but what’s worth living in for the next generation.
Partner with the communities you build in. Let residents co-design, co-decide, and co-invest. The result isn’t just goodwill — it’s longevity.
Future-proof your designs. Climate-ready, energy-efficient, mixed-income, accessible — these are no longer bonuses. They’re baselines.
Measure impact, not just ROI. Housing is legacy. What kind of legacy are you leaving?
For Citizens, Educators, and Advocates
Change the narrative. Push back on the idea that housing is a reward for success. It’s a foundation for it.
Support alternative models. Co-ops. Tiny homes. Community-led builds. These aren’t fads — they’re tools. Amplify them.
Make housing political. Ask your representatives what they’re doing. Show up. Vote like shelter is a human right — because it is.
Speak up, even if you’re housed. This crisis doesn’t end at your front door. It’s bigger than that.
“Cities can be changed. But only by people who believe that housing is more than shelter — that it’s power, stability, and hope.” — Leilani Farha
If we want to build something better, we have to start with who it’s for. And that means all of us.
One Last Thing
We talk a lot about the future. Green jobs. Smart cities. Digital economies. Sustainable growth. But none of that matters — none of it sticks — if people have nowhere to live.
Because housing isn’t a side issue. It’s the structure every other ambition depends on. You can’t work without rest. You can’t learn without safety. You can’t plan a future if you don’t know where you’ll sleep next week.
So the question is no longer,
“Can we build enough units?”
It’s,
“What kind of world are we building them for?”
Because the future doesn’t start in parliaments or planning meetings. It starts at street level — with bricks, doors, courtyards, and keys. With neighbours who wave. With windows that open. With people who feel safe enough to stay.
This piece stands in alignment with the vision laid out by Jonathan Reckford — a future where every person has not only a roof, but a reason to stay. Because housing, as he reminds us, is where dignity begins.
If we want that future to hold — we have to make sure everyone has a place inside it.
Not eventually. Not hypothetically. Now.
Learn more: World Economic Forum — Reimagining Real Estate