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By Mark Wilson / December 12, 2024

The ongoing leasehold reform debate is turning out to be a masterclass in political posturing, and nowhere is this more evident than in the emotional language being used by government ministers. Far from signaling strength or control, this reliance on buzzwords and blame-shifting may be a sign of weakness, confusion, and lack of direction.

One of the most glaring indicators of this is the repeated use of the word “feudal”. Of course, it’s intended to provoke outrage, conjuring images of medieval oppression and unfairness, but the reality is far more nuanced. To begin with, leasehold is a contractual arrangement, governed by property law, not knights and castles. When policymakers lean on this kind of simplistic, provocative, and insulting rhetoric, it could just be a sign they are struggling with the actual complexities of the issue.

A clear example of stonewalling was in the Housing Minister’s recent announcement on the new Act: ‘These serious flaws include a loophole which means the Act goes far beyond the intended reforms to valuation and that undermines the integrity of the amended scheme.’ Angela Rayner is primed with the mantra as well, referencing ‘the flaws in the legislation.’ Come on, tell us—what are they?

When dealing with something as complex as housing law, a strong government would use precise, technical language, offering clear actions and deadlines that are kept. They would avoid empty phrases like “freedom, hope, and pride” in favour of specifics on how leaseholders will transition to commonhold or when valuation reforms will come into force. But instead, the public is fed emotional descriptions that rile flat owners  but offer no practical guidance on when change will happen.

Another hallmark of weak leadership is the tendency to shift blame. The current government frequently points to the ‘flawed’ Leasehold and Freehold Reform Act 2024 and highlights the mistakes of the “previous government.” This tactic of looking backward is a transparent attempt to distance themselves from failure, but it’s also a sign they’re still grappling with how to move forward. Confident leaders don’t need to criticize the past; they present a clear plan for the future. If they truly had control, they’d set out firm deadlines, actionable steps, and definitive commitments.

There’s also an evident effort to create villains in this story. Freeholders are portrayed as greedy profiteers and managing agents as opaque middlemen collecting unjustified fees. While it’s true that there are bad actors in every industry, the reality is that freeholders and managing agents have legal obligations to maintain buildings and comply with regulations. Demonizing them is a crude simplification and a poor strategy for reform. If the government understood the market’s inner workings, it would recognize that freeholders and their agents will be essential partners in any meaningful reform.

Perhaps most telling is the government’s reliance on consultations and ‘seeking input’. Instead of offering decisive action, they promise to “engage with stakeholders” and “consult next year.” Most see these consultations as no more than an illusion of progress while actually just buying time. Again and again, the complexity of what is needed to make these reforms a success is totally daunting. Who or what is compelling the introduction of an entirely new system of flat ownership? Do new flat owners or existing leaseholders really want to be guinea pigs with their most valuable asset?

So, is the government’s use of emotional language a sign of strength or weakness? To many, it’s clearly the latter. Strong leadership is marked by clarity, precision, and control. You see it when calm, reasoned, technical language that defines the “what,” “when,” and “how” of reform is used. In contrast, this government’s reliance on emotional buzzwords, us vs. them rhetoric, and deferring to future consultations feels more like floundering than leadership. For those of us watching closely, every time the word feudal is thrown into the mix, it’s tempting to scream — because if you’re still calling it “feudal,” you desperately need a new narrative.