Latest news with #landlords
CTV News
a day ago
- Business
- CTV News
This Quebec tenant won three cases at the TAL. Now landlords won't rent to him
A building with "For Rent" and "For Sale" signs is posted in Montreal, Tuesday, Oct. 1, 2024. (Christinne Muschi / The Canadian Press) When Steve transferred his Sherbrooke, Que., apartment lease and left for an exchange program in Australia last year, he didn't expect to be blacklisted by landlords for having contested rental hikes at the province's housing tribunal. The tenant, who asked to remain anonymous out of fear of further housing discrimination, won all three cases that his former landlord had opened against him before the Tribunal administratif du logement (TAL). Still, he says, landlords told him they now think of him as a 'problem tenant' for having enforced his rights. He claims that because of this no one will rent to him. 'One of the people that my girlfriend and I had visited online straight up said 'Hey, I don't want this. I don't want you to bring me to the TAL,'' Steve told CTV News. 'Why would I bring you to the TAL? You're not trying to swindle me, right? ... I just had an issue with this one specific landlord that was trying to double my rent every time.' Experts say Steve isn't alone, and the low housing supply in the province is making it easy for landlords to discriminate against tenants they think will be a headache. Steve says when he first moved from Montreal to Sherbrooke for work in 2021, he found an apartment for $1,200 per month, adding he discovered it was overpriced after moving in. Despite initial promises of a renovated apartment, the home lacked basic amenities and had a mould issue. Mushrooms were even growing in the bathroom. When Steve checked Section G of his lease, where landlords are obliged to declare the lowest rent paid for the unit over the 12 months, he saw the previous tenant paid about $600 per month. The landlord had doubled the rent. TAL mushrooms 'Steve' had mushrooms growing in the bathroom of his Sherbrooke apartment. Steve says he tried to negotiate with the landlord to bring the rent down to $900 per month, but was refused. A rent fixing case was then opened at the TAL, but before a judgment was issued Steve's landlord sent him another notice for a rent increase. 'At this point, I'm wondering, are you just trying to weaponize the system against me?' he asked. 'Now, I have two files open, right? What's going on here? This is weird.' A third case was then opened for rent fixation. Eventually, the TAL ruled in Steve's favour, setting his rent at $865 per month, and later at $881 per month, lower than the price he first asked for. In their decisions, reviewed by CTV News, the judges noted that the landlord had failed to provide evidence that would justify the requested increases, plus sections of the lease weren't properly filled out. During his time in Sherbrooke, Steve went back to school and was accepted for an academic year abroad. He transferred his lease and thought it would be easy enough to find a new place upon returning. However, he says finding a new home for July 1 has been anything but simple. As they're currently on the other side of the globe, Steve and his partner can't visit apartments in person. He claims that as soon as landlords look up his records, they see the TAL cases and flag him as a possibly difficult tenant. 'It's really sketchy for them to see my name come up, even though I was right,' he said. After months of searching, Steve says he and his partner started feeling desperate. The only landlord willing to have them as tenants refused to sign a lease with Steve. Instead, she was willing to sign just with his partner – and only if her parents signed on as guarantors. 'My girlfriend's like, 'Well, I'm 32 years old. Why do you need to get my parents to sign like I'm some sort of child?'' Steve said. 'I felt swindled and therefore I used the resources that were at my disposition … And now, because of that, I'm seen as some sort of problem tenant … is it really a fair system if I have everything to lose and the landlords don't?' A tenant blacklist Mario Mercier with the Association des locataires de Sherbrooke says he's heard dozens of stories like Steve's. 'It's basically systematic,' he said of the phenomenon. 'Landlords are using the docket almost like a tenant blacklist. Normally, they shouldn't because [the tenant] was within his rights … but it's absolutely not something insignificant that happens rarely.' He says landlords often use a form to screen applicants, which asks them if they have ever had a case at the TAL. When tenants are honest and say yes, Mercier notes their application is often not considered at all. Mercier says he tries to help tenants find legal recourse, but the burden of proof is so high that it typically goes nowhere. This was the case when CTV News spoke with a second tenant who said that despite her and her partner's high salaries and good credit, one case at the TAL was enough to face multiple rejections from landlords. TAL poll A poll in the 'Mordus d'immobilier' Facebook group shows 100 landlords would not rent to a tenant with a file at the housing tribunal. (Facebook) In an investigation online, CTV News found some landlords encouraged each other to refuse tenants based on their TAL history, no matter the reasoning behind the case. One landlord in the Facebook group 'Mordus d'immobilier' started a poll in 2024, asking others if they would rent to a tenant with a TAL history. The two options were 'YES, I could take them as a tenant,' or 'NO, as soon as a tenant has a case before the TAL I systematically refuse.' Though most of the 400 or so respondents picked the former, 100 landlords voted for the latter. 'You shouldn't rent to tenants with a file. It's the only way we can exert pressure. It's clear to me if you have a file at the TAL, especially if it's to get rent fixed, then it's a no,' one landlord commented on a similar post. A tenant's rights Lawyer Julien Delangie warns that the Civil Code forbids landlords from refusing a lease to a tenant who has formally asserted their rights before the courts. However, proving discrimination is challenging — in fact, it's almost impossible. TAL facebook A landlord comments on a Facebook post saying refusing to rent to tenants who have rent fixation cases before the TAL is the only way to exert pressure. (Facebook) 'It's very often, very hard to prove that this is the exact and only reason for which they were refused, even if it's the case,' he said. 'If the landlord doesn't state the real reason behind the refusal, it's going to be hard to assert the tenant's rights about this.' He adds it's a symptom of the housing crisis. 'When you have so many tenants fighting for a given apartment and sometimes even offering more than the rent that is asked for, that's when it becomes very easy for landlords to discriminate on an unlawful basis,' he said. There are penal provisions that can result in fines ranging from $200 to $1,900 or punitive damages. However, Delangie says the fines are rarely applied. Useless fines? Quebec Housing Minister France-Élaine Duranceau admitted as much during debates around her housing law project, Bill 31, in 2022. Transcripts of those debates are available on the National Assembly's website. At the time, she said, 'In real life, in order for fines to be applied, there has to be a denunciation, there has to be an investigation, there has to be an investigation report, there has to be a provisional decision.' It takes prosecution, an indictment and a trial, she continued, for charges to be laid, and the money 'doesn't go into the pocket of the person who was the victim,' and instead goes to the government. While Liberal MNA Virginie Dufour pressed Duranceau, saying she would like for fines to serve a purpose, the minister insisted that punitive damages are the way to go. A spokesperson for Duranceau's office recently told CTV News the minister was simply stating the 'facts about the process of implementing these provisions.' France-Elaine Duranceau Quebec Minister Responsible for Housing France-Elaine Duranceau responds to the Opposition during question period, Thursday, September 28, 2023 at the legislature in Quebec City. (Jacques Boissinot/The Canadian Press) Bill 31 introduced punitive measures to condemn landlords who fail to comply with Section G of a lease, as well as those who neglect their buildings. 'The TAL has the power to order a party to a lease to pay punitive damages. All you have to do is apply and prove your allegations before the Tribunal,' said spokesperson Justine Vezina. Fines are criminal penalties and fall under the Ministry of Justice's responsibility. 'It is not criminal sanctions that guarantee a person's ability to freely exercise his or her rights, but our legal system,' she said. Delangie argues the minister's answer isn't satisfactory. 'Of course, there can be a civil suit against you, but it's also a penal offence, and you could be liable to a fine, but there's no one that's enforcing that,' he said. Landlord-tenant contract Eric Sansoucy, spokesperson for the Corporation des propriétaires immobiliers du Québec (CORPIQ), says it's crucial for both landlords and tenants to be transparent with each other because 'it's all about building a relationship of trust.' He stresses that CORPIQ does not endorse discriminatory behaviour. However, he says it's normal for a landlord to want to know more about who they are renting to and make sure there are no legitimate concerns about payments or behaviour issues. 'We strongly encourage tenants to be open, if there's a past issue, explain it upfront, rather than just let the landlord discover it, and it helps rebuild trust and establish the basis for a good understanding,' he said. On the other hand, CORPIQ says it encourages landlords to be understanding, as some tenants have legitimate reasons for contacting the TAL. 'We think landlords and tenants should be able to go to the tribunal if they feel that they are under a situation where their rights are not respected,' said Sansoucy. Steve, who admits he has had a hard time finding understanding landlords, says he wants the names of tenants who win their case to be removed from public documents to prevent discrimination. 'Look, if someone skips on their rental obligations or makes a mess or breaks things, 100 per cent name and shame them,' he said. 'But for people who are…in a situation where if they say 'no' to this double rent increase, even though it's an absolutely absurd increase and it'll never fly in court, just the fact that their name now pops up on the website where all the judgments in Quebec are, now suddenly life becomes very hard for them.' Delangie says removing names is easier said than done. There are various databases where landlords can look up potential tenants' past cases. Plus, the experts say that without proper enforcement measures and other ways to find tenants' files, it's unlikely that any discriminatory behaviour will stop.
BBC News
2 days ago
- General
- BBC News
Darlington residents call for rules to stop smaller HMOs
A petition is calling on a council to stop the "uncontrolled transformation" of a of Greenbank Road in Darlington want measures to be put in place to stop landlords turning properties into houses of multiple occupation (HMOs)."Darlington Borough Council has lost control of the HMO situation in our neighbourhood," a letter to residents authority said it was looking into measures it could implement to address the concerns. There are about 400 HMOs in Darlington, according to the are used by residents, often students or young professionals, who rent their bedrooms and share living facilities. 'Unknown scale' Current rules mean that planning permission for an HMO is only needed when it will house more than five people. Specific measures – called an Article Four direction – can be implemented to require the landlord to seek permission for smaller Greenbank Road residents' petition said the council had "no way" of knowing how many houses had already been turned into HMOs and called for the Article Four direction to be made in their area."[The council] cannot make reasonable planning decisions by assessing the impact of new, large HMOs on our local streets if they don't know the scale of the local problem," it said.A spokesman at Darlington Borough Council said HMOs provided "a valuable contribution to housing provision for people who could not access the housing market through home ownership or added: "We also recognise that a concentration of unregulated HMOs can cause issues for neighbouring residents."The authority said while its own policies provided guidance for considering applications for larger HMOs, it did not cover those with fewer than five occupants."We have been working hard to look into measures, such as an Article Four direction, that can be introduced at the earliest opportunity to help control those smaller HMOs." Follow BBC Tees on X, Facebook, Nextdoor and Instagram.
Irish Times
2 days ago
- Business
- Irish Times
Ruby Eastwood: Why would anyone choose to live in a city as ridiculous as Dublin?
You hear stories about how people survive in this impossibly expensive city. Couples who stay in loveless relationships because they can't afford to separate. Strangers from Facebook groups sleeping in the same room. A bed rented by one person in the day and a different person at night. Tenants paying their landlords with sex . Artists squatting illegally in their studios. People sleeping in storage units. These stories are full of human ingenuity and degradation. They're really quite strange when you think about them properly. The strangest part is how common they've become. [ Ireland's rising rents: 'Our budget would have been €1,300 a month, there isn't even anything listed for that' Opens in new window ] About a year ago, my best friend in Dublin moved to Berlin , where he says it's still possible to be broke and live well. When he left his damp, windowless room near Connolly Station – which cost just under a thousand euros a month – there were people queuing for the privilege of being next. Now he lives in a sunlit attic for a fraction of the price, and drinks Fritz Colas and Berliner Pilsners on the rooftop. Every so often, during our calls, he tries to convince me to join him. His logic is hard to fault: Dublin is untenable. Unless you have private wealth or can stomach a corporate job, you resign yourself to chronic financial dread – the kind that squats over your life like Fuseli's goblin in the painting. At least in other expensive cities, such as New York or London, you can escape your overpriced room into a pulsing metropolis, with endless distractions and some of them free. In Dublin, all you can really do is go to the pub, and even that costs too much. The city is very small, and it seems to constrict as the years pass. You can't leave the house without seeing a face you know. In fact, there are no faces you don't know. They approach from all sides. And the rain. The constant rain. I recognise the truth in this, and it's hard to argue with. Why would anyone choose to live in such a ridiculous city? I don't know if I really understand my own reasons for staying. I suspect they're quite shameful: they have more to do with a romantic or aesthetic impulse than with anything practical. READ MORE I just like Dublin. I like the harsh beaches and the Martello towers. The silvery, rinsed-out light. I like walking through the sprawling industrial wastelands on the city's fringes. I like the canals in spring, all fragrant with weeds and strewn with sunk bicycles. Strangers here seem to want to tell you things – like the old lady who, for no discernible reason, wanted to talk about the time she heard Bob Marley singing Redemption Song at Dalymount Park. You witness things. Once, on Talbot Street, I saw a man with an arm in a cast get into a physical fight with a man on crutches. I like Dublin on the rare occasions when it snows. I like the hot, malty smell from the Guinness factory. I like the Liberties, where you can hear the quiet rush of subterranean rivers, and church bells, and horses' hooves. I like that ugly statue of Oscar Wilde with the pervert's smile. I even like the loud, sentimental music on Grafton Street, and the whiskey-soaked ballads streaming from the pubs in Temple Bar. The idea of leaving Dublin becomes more, not less, appealing as I become more entrenched here ... we can weather all sorts of adversity, but banal contentment is the real deadener Mainly, though, I like Dublin because I chose it. The first time I visited, I was 21. I had some half-baked but very attractive notion of what Ireland represented: something to do with resistance, with migration and nostalgia and alcoholism. I had a copy of Finnegans Wake and I think I got about three pages in on the bus ride into town before falling asleep. When I woke up, I scrambled off and left the book behind. I had oysters for lunch that day and pictured my whole life in the city. It felt just the right size to make mine. I've lived in bigger cities: Barcelona, where I grew up, and London, where I lived before coming here; and smaller, random places: Brighton, Siena. I've spoken to quite a few Dubliners who are desperate to move to other European cities and can't understand my decision to stay. There's a kind of faith involved in choosing a city. You respond to its atmosphere, its pace and texture, the way it opens up to you – or doesn't. Dublin, for all its flaws, felt like it might yield something if I stayed long enough. The beginning in a new place is always the hardest part: slow, bitty, full of doubts. I didn't know anyone. I'd been accepted into a master's programme but couldn't fund it and had to defer my place by a year. When my sublet ended, I had to return to London for a while because I couldn't find another room. I worked in bars and signed up with a temp agency that sent me on scattershot catering shifts around the city. The jobs were mostly tedious, but they offered a kind of education. I learned how the different bits of the city fit together, like a giant jigsaw. The glassy conference rooms down by the Quays. The Leopardstown racecourse, where West End men come on weekends to get extravagantly drunk. The grand Georgian hotels and restaurants, where they throw out so much good food it makes you want to cry. The methadone clinic at the end of the bus line where you hear the wildest conversations and sometimes get drawn in. [ Dublin: The 13th best city in the world ... supposedly Opens in new window ] It occurs to me that the difficulty of establishing yourself in a city confers a special kind of meaning on your relationship to it. Like in a toxic romance, if you can weather the lows, the highs are incredible. Who knows – maybe the expensiveness and impossibility of a place like Dublin, far from being deterrents, actually deepen its appeal, the way we fetishise designer handbags but never their identical fakes. I've always had this wrong-headed idea that the value of something is revealed by the sting of its attendant sacrifice. Gradually, my life in Dublin took on more solidity. I was lucky enough to receive a university grant. I met people. I signed a lease. I moved in with a friend and we painted all the walls fresh white. She bought velvet floral curtains in pastel colours and hung them in the livingroom. I found a few prints in charity shops. I got a Persian carpet from a lady in Blackrock Market. A friend gave me a desk she no longer needed. Sometimes the city sends you little signs of progress. The quiet, stoical man in the corner shop at the end of my road has started calling me 'honey', and occasionally smiles. I have a friend's spare keys on my keyring. I know the name of my neighbour's dog. I know which cobbler to go to for the best deal. Ruby Eastwood Still, there are days when I fantasise about leaving. It would be nice to buy lunch in a cafe without feeling frivolous. It would be wonderful not to feel like I'm stuck in a recurring nightmare every time rent comes around. Oddly, the idea of leaving Dublin becomes more, not less, appealing as I become more entrenched here. Maybe that's no coincidence. To return to the toxic romance analogy: we can weather all sorts of adversity, but banal contentment is the real deadener. Recently, I spoke to a friend in London who's moving to Iowa City for a master of fine arts degree. He told me he's spent hours on Google Maps, exploring the place through Street View. The images all seem to have been captured on sunny days – it looks green and beautiful, full of classic American wood-frame houses. He's begun to associate the town with Iowa Dream by Arthur Russell, all melodic guitar lines and soft lyrics. The self he pictured living there was different from the one he knows in London: less anxious, more social, content to spend long afternoons drifting around and hanging out with friends. [ Trevor White: I love Dublin. But there's no point in pretending it's a great small city Opens in new window ] I also indulge in this kind of cartographic dreaming. I explore prospective cities on Street View: Beirut, Paris, Berlin. It's a surreal activity. You pick a spot on the map and drag yourself along, imagining a parallel life. Sometimes, from one click to the next, the sun disappears and rain slicks the tarmac. Figures with blurred faces vanish or are replaced by others in different clothes further down the road. You realise the map is stitched together from footage taken on different days, in different moods. Another thing my friend hinted at stayed with me: that emigration can be indistinguishable from escapism. When I imagine myself in another city, I don't picture myself as I am now, but a physically and intellectually tweaked version. In Paris, I'm gaunt with a perfect bob; I smoke straights and read Lacan for pleasure. In Beirut, I am somehow fluent in Arabic; I drink less; I am sharper and more spiritual. I study ancient manuscripts. In Berlin, I am reunited with my best friend and we live together like Robert Mapplethorpe and Patti Smith before it all fell apart, looking cool and making great art. The fantasy isn't really about the new city. It's about becoming a new person. [ Emer McLysaght: Five lessons Dublin can learn from Zurich Opens in new window ] There's a way of reading this that feels a little bleak. You could say it reflects a kind of ambient self-disgust, or an inability to accept life as it is. A symptom of being stuck in the wheel of samsara: trapped in a cycle of craving and disappointment, forever projecting some improved self just over the horizon, never quite admitting that the old self follows you everywhere. There's truth in that, but it's not the whole story. There's another, more generous way to see it. Maybe it isn't escapism, but a kind of unconscious recognition that we are always in the process of becoming. Cities aren't just stages on which our lives play out. They are the biggest collaborators. They shape how we speak, how we move, how we think. They alter our trajectories. When you choose to stay in a place, you're submitting to its influence. To live in a city is to enter into a kind of contract. You agree to spend your time, your energy, and your labour in its service. In return, it promises transformation, but on its own terms. Like the enchanted gift in a fairy tale, the city will change you in ways you can't predict, and not all of them will be kind. The point is you don't get to choose. It's a gamble. Is it one worth taking? Ruby Eastwood is a writer living in Dublin
Yahoo
2 days ago
- Business
- Yahoo
Growing New Apartment Supply, Low Absorption Rates Bode Well for Renters, Redfin Report Shows
An increase in the supply of new apartments in the US and a low absorption rate are enabling renters Sign in to access your portfolio
The Independent
3 days ago
- Business
- The Independent
Colorado's governor vetoes landmark ban on rent-setting algorithms
Democratic Gov. Jared Polis has vetoed a bill that would have made Colorado the first state to ban landlords from using rent-setting algorithms, which many advocates have blamed for driving up housing costs across the country. RealPage is the target of a federal lawsuit filed last year that accuses the real estate software company of facilitating an illegal scheme to help landlords coordinate to hike rental prices. Eight other states, including Colorado, have joined the Department of Justice 's lawsuit, though RealPage has vehemently denied any claims of collusion and has fought to have the lawsuit dismissed. Critics say RealPage software combines confidential information from each real estate management company in ways that enable landlords to align prices and avoid competition that would otherwise push down rents. RealPage's clients include huge landlords who collectively oversee millions of units across the U.S. The Colorado bill, which recently passed the Democratic-led Legislature along party lines, would have prevented the use of such algorithms. In a veto letter Thursday, Polis said he understands the intent of the bill but that any collusion among landlords would already violate existing law. 'Reducing market friction through legitimate means that do not entail collusion is good for both renters and landlords,' Polis wrote. 'We should not inadvertently take a tool off the table that could identify vacancies and provide consumers with meaningful data to help efficiently manage residential real estate to ensure people can access housing.' In a statement, RealPage applauded Polis' veto, calling it an example of 'courageous leadership.' 'This is the right outcome for all of us who desire a healthy housing ecosystem that benefits Colorado renters and housing providers alike,' said Jennifer Bowcock, a spokesperson for the Texas-based firm. But Polis' decision outraged local housing advocates and the American Economic Liberties Project, a consumer rights advocacy group that has helped lead the fight against RealPage and other companies that use rent-setting algorithms. 'This veto sends the devastating message that corporate landlords can keep using secret price-fixing algorithms to take extra rent from people who have the least,' said Sam Gilman, co-founder and president of the Community Economic Defense Project, a Colorado-based nonprofit. RealPage software provides daily recommendations to help landlords and their employees price their available apartments. The landlords do not have to follow the suggestions, but critics argue that because the software has access to a vast trove of confidential data, it helps RealPage's clients charge the highest possible rent. Although Colorado was the first state to pass a bill targeting rental algorithms, at least six cities have passed similar ordinances over the past year. They include Philadelphia; Minneapolis; San Francisco; Berkeley, California; Jersey City, New Jersey; and Providence, Rhode Island. RealPage has decried those measures and sued over Berkeley's ordinance, saying it violates the company's free speech rights and is the result of an 'intentional campaign of misinformation and often-repeated false claims' about its products. RealPage argues that the real driver of high rents is a lack of housing supply. It also says that its pricing recommendations often encourage landlords to drop rents since landlords are incentivized to maximize revenue and maintain high occupancy. A clause recently added to Republicans' signature ' big, beautiful ' tax bill would ban states and localities from regulating artificial intelligence for a decade. On Tuesday, five Democratic senators sent a letter to RealPage asking if the company was involved in getting that clause inserted.
