The Rise of Property Guardianship: A New Solution to Britain’s Housing Crisis

What Property Guardianship Really Means

Imagine living in an abandoned police station, empty hospital, or disused office building to save hundreds of pounds each month. While it might sound unconventional, this is the reality for a growing number of Britons who have turned to property guardianship as an alternative to increasingly unaffordable traditional renting. Unlike squatting, property guardianship is a legitimate arrangement where people live in otherwise vacant buildings under a licence agreement, usually at costs significantly lower than standard rent because occupants also provide security for the property owner.

The concept works differently from traditional renting. Instead of signing a standard lease and paying monthly rent, guardians typically sign a 28-day rolling licence agreement and pay a licence fee. Property owners use either security companies or specialized guardianship firms to find suitable occupants, similar to how landlords work with estate agents. About ten years ago, the practice gained widespread attention partly due to the Channel 4 series “Crashing,” though unfortunately it was horror stories about substandard living conditions that made headlines. Since then, the industry has evolved considerably, with companies taking steps to improve standards and some joining the Property Guardian Providers Association, which establishes industry benchmarks. However, it’s important to note that beyond basic housing standards and health and safety measures, there are no specific regulations governing this sector.

The trade-offs are significant. Guardians don’t enjoy the same legal protections as traditional tenants—they can be evicted with just 28 days’ notice compared to the two-month minimum for renters under a section 21 notice, and property owners can conduct inspections at any time. While guardians usually pay deposits, landlords aren’t required to place them in protection schemes, and guardians don’t have the right to request repairs unless there’s a safety concern. Children are banned from guardian properties, pets are typically prohibited, and the 28-day rolling contract means residents must live with constant uncertainty about their housing security. Despite these drawbacks, the financial savings and access to accommodation in an increasingly difficult housing market are drawing more people to consider this option.

Real Stories from Real Guardians

Cherise Woods’s journey into property guardianship began in 2024 after being evicted from her previous home due to a rat infestation. The 30-year-old artist and designer, who runs her own company called Trippy Creations, found a listed building in Somerset with several floors and two car parks. Her room, approximately 20 square metres, was formerly an office—evidence remains in the plastic casing housing wires and plug sockets along the walls, an abandoned pinboard, and dark blue carpet. When she moved in, the space was empty, but she’s since furnished it with a bed, clothes rail, fridge, and desk. She shares bathrooms and kitchens with at least 15 other people on her floor.

“It’s pretty basic, but at the same time nicer than how I lived at university,” Cherise explains. “The kitchens are really nice. Obviously, they are not five-star luxury, but they are clean and hygienic. It just lacks home comforts. We’re talking shared bathrooms. Both genders go in there, and some of them are makeshift, with pop-up plastic showers. You have to wear waterproof flip-flops in the shower so you don’t get verrucas.” Despite the lack of certain conveniences—like having to walk down several flights of stairs to use a microwave—the financial benefits are undeniable. Cherise pays £614 monthly, which includes allocated parking and a cleaner for communal areas, with her only additional expense being a Wi-Fi dongle. She has no council tax or electricity bills. Compared to the average room rent in her area of £679 plus bills, with some places charging £800 to £900 for tiny bedrooms, the savings have allowed her to save enough for a house deposit and she’s soon moving into her first home.

Sam Whelan Curtin, a 38-year-old social justice worker, turned to property guardianship three years ago when moving from Dublin to London. His one-bedroom 1970s council flat in Poplar, east London, costs £720 monthly—significantly less than the area’s average rent of £1,031. However, the arrangement required initial investment. “It was really nice when I moved in, but you have to make it your own, you have to fix it up, you need to buy an oven,” Sam explains. “There’s that kind of investment and you don’t know how long you’re going to have it. You could move in and get a notice a week later, so it’s a calculated risk.” His guardianship company, DotDotDot, adds an interesting requirement: residents must volunteer for at least 12 hours monthly. Sam works with Friends of the Joiners Arms, an organization protecting and creating LGBTQ+ spaces.

The psychological adjustment to the 28-day rolling contract took time. “It weighed heavily on my mind… you’re kind of going, well I could get an email or a phone call tomorrow saying I’m out and you just have to be ready,” Sam reflects. “I had to learn to live with that reality and the risk that you could kit it all out and then you have to leave.” With redevelopment expected to start on his building within six months, he’s preparing to move and ideally wants another guardianship rather than facing the private rental market’s higher costs.

Adriana Faria, a 49-year-old freelance set designer, has been a property guardian in east London for two and a half years. Living in an old council estate building scheduled for demolition in 2028, she was attracted not just by cheaper bills but by the opportunity for more working space—something impossible to find in London’s rental market with its small, expensive, or overcrowded options. “Everyone who lives in London knows it is a nightmare,” she says. “It is difficult to find a suitable place, especially for me being a freelancer. My income is sometimes stable and sometimes not so much.” Her one-bedroom flat includes a big kitchen, living room, small balcony, and windowless bathroom, costing £1,025 monthly (£825 licence fee plus £200 in bills). When she moved in, the space was completely empty with flooring in a “very bad state,” so she removed red carpet patches herself and painted the hard floor underneath grey. Despite restrictions on pets, children, elderly dependents, smoking, open flames, and large gatherings, Adriana has found the experience positive: “I have more space, and I’ve had the opportunity to meet new people and create a relationship with where I live. It’s created a bond with the place and the people.”

Understanding the Scale and Potential

The statistics surrounding property guardianship and vacant properties in the UK paint an intriguing picture of both need and opportunity. While there’s no official country-wide data on the number of property guardians, estimates suggest between 5,000 and 10,000 people currently live under these arrangements. Meanwhile, according to the Office for National Statistics, England has 754,264 vacant properties, with 34,635 owned by local authorities and 303,185 having been empty for six months or more. Natasha Taylor, managing director of AdHoc, a property management and security firm, believes approximately half of these vacant properties could potentially house guardians, representing hundreds of thousands of possible homes.

“The vast amount of vacant properties seems like a waste to me,” Taylor observes. “There are so many things you could do with your vacant properties rather than just leaving them empty.” However, she acknowledges significant barriers: “There are things that prevent us sometimes as we are bound by local authorities, so HMO [house in multiple occupancy] licences, planning, all of that comes into play.” The regulatory landscape creates challenges for converting empty buildings into guardian accommodation, even when the physical space might be suitable. Additionally, demand for property guardianship has increased from both sides—people seeking affordable housing and property owners looking for security solutions—as rents, house prices, and mortgage rates have soared during the UK’s deepening housing crisis.

The security aspect cannot be understated. While advocates point to guardianship as an option for those struggling with record rents—with homelessness charity Shelter reporting at least 382,000 people without homes in England—the primary purpose from property owners’ perspectives is asset protection. In recent years, guardians have been strategically used to prevent anti-social behavior and stop squatters from moving in. “There’s a whole squatters movement at the moment in the UK which has great followings on Instagram or Facebook showing how they get into these big buildings when they know it’s vacant. It’s dangerous,” Natasha explains. In one striking example, a property AdHoc manages in Lambeth was occupied by squatters within just four hours of security measures being removed. The costs can be substantial for owners, with some squatters dumping waste or causing damage, making guardians inside buildings a powerful deterrent.

Industry Perspectives on Housing Solutions

Arthur Duke, founder and chairman at Live-in Guardians, reports his company has experienced “steady and significant increase” in enquiries from property owners in both private and public sectors seeking guardians. He connects this trend to broader business priorities: “More and more businesses are actively looking at how their property strategies align with their environmental, social and governance commitments. Property guardianship reduces waste, prevents high street decline and provides affordable housing at a time when it’s badly needed.” Duke acknowledges that converting empty properties into guardian homes won’t single-handedly solve the housing crisis but believes it could “absolutely” be part of the solution.

Duke emphasizes the versatility of the model: “In reality, almost any building can be suitable for guardianship if it’s managed properly. Guardianship helps ease pressure at the lower end of the rental market by providing genuinely affordable accommodation, particularly for key workers and young professionals.” However, he’s careful to set realistic expectations: “It’s not a substitute for long-term housebuilding or structural reform. What it does very well is bridge the gap—reducing waste, improving security for owners and offering people a roof over their heads at a time when affordability has become critical.” This perspective positions guardianship as a practical interim solution that addresses multiple stakeholders’ needs while acknowledging it cannot replace comprehensive housing policy reform.

The practical reality is that guardianship serves dual purposes that happen to align: property owners get cost-effective security for assets they’re not currently using, while people struggling with housing affordability gain access to accommodation at below-market rates. This alignment has allowed the sector to grow organically as economic pressures have intensified. However, the question remains whether this growth should be encouraged as a housing solution or whether it represents a concerning development of a two-tier system where some residents have significantly fewer rights than others.

The Regulation Debate and Future Directions

Professor Chris Bevan, a property law expert who has spent years researching the sector, largely agrees that vacant properties could be utilized to house people in guardianships, but he emphasizes the critical need for more robust regulation and data collection to ensure people aren’t living in substandard conditions. His concerns reflect those of critics who worry that guardianship legitimizes a two-tiered system of tenants’ rights, where financial necessity forces people into arrangements with minimal legal protections. “Whatever form the accommodation takes, it has to meet decent home standards and I would like local authorities to be proactive in ensuring that if there are vacant properties in their area, and they are to be occupied by guardians, I would like them to be inspected and tested to that decent home standard,” Professor Bevan states.

His proposed regulatory framework includes several key elements. First, he believes the ombudsman should take a more active role in the sector, providing oversight and accountability mechanisms currently absent from the industry. Second, local authorities should conduct surveys of guardianship properties to ensure compliance with basic standards. The fear underlying these recommendations is clear: “If the regulation is not put in place, then there is the threat of this sort of development of a substandard housing regime that sits under private accommodation which is left for people who can’t afford anything else. We’ve got to avoid that. We should regulate the system to realise its potential.” This perspective suggests that with proper oversight, guardianship could be a legitimate and beneficial option, but without it, it risks becoming exploitative.

The regulatory vacuum is particularly concerning given the inherent power imbalance in guardian arrangements. Unlike traditional tenants who have clear legal protections regarding eviction timelines, deposit protection, and rights to request repairs, guardians operate in a much more precarious position. The 28-day rolling contracts mean guardians can never fully settle or invest in their living spaces without risk of sudden displacement. The inability to have children in these properties means families are completely excluded from this form of affordable housing. The lack of deposit protection schemes removes a key safeguard that prevents landlords from unfairly withholding money. These factors combined create conditions where vulnerable people seeking affordable housing might accept substandard conditions simply because they have no alternatives.

Weighing the Benefits Against the Costs

The experiences of guardians like Cherise, Sam, and Adriana illustrate both the opportunities and challenges of this housing model. For Cherise, guardianship served as a stepping stone to homeownership, allowing her to save money that would have otherwise gone to higher rent and bills. Her declaration that “I would never ever want to go back to renting” speaks to the financial relief the arrangement provided. Similarly, Adriana values the space and community she’s found, planning to continue with guardianship rather than return to traditional renting if possible. Sam’s experience with required volunteering adds an interesting dimension—while it’s an additional obligation, it also connects guardians to their communities in meaningful ways.

However, the trade-offs are significant and shouldn’t be minimized. Living with the constant possibility of 28-day eviction notice creates ongoing stress and prevents the sense of home and stability that housing should provide. The restrictions on personalization and the need to invest in furnishings and improvements with no guarantee of staying long enough to benefit from them represent financial risks. Shared facilities, particularly bathrooms with makeshift showers requiring waterproof flip-flops, highlight how guardians often accept conditions below what would be acceptable in traditional rentals. The lack of control over who else lives in the building can lead to conflicts and discomfort, as Cherise experienced with noisy neighbors and guardians with “hierarchy complexes.”

The broader question is whether society should embrace guardianship as a solution to the housing crisis or whether its growth indicates a disturbing trend toward normalizing precarious housing with minimal rights. Advocates point to the mutual benefits: owners protect vacant properties while people gain affordable housing. They argue that empty buildings represent wasted resources that could house people during a housing shortage. Critics counter that the arrangement exploits people’s desperation for affordable housing, creating a class of residents with second-tier rights who can be displaced with minimal notice and have little recourse for poor conditions. The truth likely lies somewhere between these positions—guardianship can provide a valuable option for some people in some circumstances, but it shouldn’t become a substitute for addressing the underlying causes of the housing crisis: insufficient construction of affordable homes, stagnant wages relative to housing costs, and inadequate protections for renters.

Moving forward, the key is ensuring that guardianship, if it continues to grow, does so with proper safeguards. Professor Bevan’s call for regulation—including active ombudsman involvement, local authority inspections, and enforcement of decent home standards—represents a reasonable framework. Additionally, clearer data collection about the number of guardians, their living conditions, and outcomes would help policymakers understand whether this model is genuinely helping people or simply masking deeper problems. The stories of individual guardians show that for some people, in some circumstances, with responsible management companies, guardianship can work well. But systemic reliance on converting abandoned buildings into homes with minimal tenant protections shouldn’t be mistaken for solving the housing crisis—it’s at best a temporary measure that addresses symptoms while the underlying disease of housing unaffordability continues to worsen.