What’s missing in Guernsey’s housing crisis? Execution

From the outside looking in, Guernsey’s housing crisis is not just a story of statistics and policy documents, it is a tale of mounting frustration, missed opportunities, and a community caught in the crossfire of well-meaning initiatives and bureaucratic inertia. As an immigrant who moved to the island three and a half years ago, and as an architect who has worked across housing and infrastructure, I’ve seen housing crises before. But Guernsey’s predicament stands out for its depth, urgency, and the persistent inability to convert planning into progress.

Few in Guernsey would deny the scale of the problem. The island’s housing shortage affects everyone: young people unable to leave home, families squeezed into inadequate spaces, older residents unable to downsize, and key workers who struggle to find anywhere to live at all. Businesses are also affected, unable to recruit or retain staff because suitable accommodation simply isn’t available. The government’s own Housing Plan acknowledges the issue as ‘one of the most pressing domestic challenges facing Guernsey’.

And yet, progress remains painfully slow. Between 2022 and 2024, the island added just one affordable home to its stock. The previous average had been over 40 per year. The gap between political intent and real delivery is not just numerical, it’s existential.

The States has not been idle. Planning strategies have evolved, committees have reformed, and policies like GP11 have been suspended to reduce perceived barriers to private development. But while the intention may be clear, the outcomes are not. Developers remain hesitant amid high costs, labour shortages, and market uncertainty. The expected building surge has not arrived.

Even Leale’s Yard, once a beacon of hope for regeneration, has faltered. It was recently made public that the government withdrew £35m. in proposed investment after negotiations with developers failed. Another opportunity shelved.

The roots of the problem run deeper than housing policy alone. Guernsey’s chronic underinvestment in infrastructure has long been cited as a barrier to development. The Fiscal Policy Panel has warned that the island’s reserves are at risk of depletion by 2032 if strategic capital spending isn’t improved. Year after year, capital investment remains below target, and housing, treated separately, has suffered from this same lack of commitment.

At the same time, political proposals for meaningful change, such as establishing a dedicated housing committee or creating a third housing market for key workers, continue to stall. The debate rarely translates into delivery.

The statistics are grim, but the personal stories are worse. Families forced to emigrate. Young islanders giving up on ownership. Retirees unable to right-size. Charities like At Home in Guernsey have stepped in with initiatives like Home Share and interim housing support, but these are stopgaps, not solutions.

And now, perhaps the most sobering symbol of the current crisis: Caritas, a local charity focused on homelessness, is urgently appealing for a small plot of land to install two emergency sleeping pods for individuals with nowhere safe to stay. These compact, solar-powered pods, no bigger than a garden shed, offer temporary shelter for those currently sleeping in vehicles, sofa surfing, or spending nights outdoors. While the initiative is admirable in its compassion and practicality, it is also deeply disheartening. That such a wealthy and resourceful island must resort to emergency micro-shelters to protect its most vulnerable is nothing short of an embarrassment. It lays bare the consequences of prolonged inaction.

There is no shortage of ideas. There is a shortage of execution. What Guernsey needs is not another policy review. It needs implementation. And crucially, the solution doesn’t require the States to shoulder the entire financial burden alone.

Here are five strategies that could work:

First, public-private partnerships. The States should enable collaboration with developers and housing associations to share risk, pool capital, and jointly deliver mixed-tenure housing that includes guaranteed affordable units.

Second, land swaps and incentives. Publicly owned land can be exchanged for commitments to build affordable or key worker housing, reducing upfront developer costs in return for tangible public benefit.

Third, modular and offsite construction. Adopting modern building techniques could reduce costs and speed up delivery. Other small jurisdictions have done this effectively, and Guernsey can too.

Fourth, fast-track planning for high-need projects. When developments meet critical housing needs, they should be prioritised for accelerated approval. Certainty and speed in planning will restore developer confidence.

Fifth, community-led models and housing trusts. Co-housing and community land trusts empower residents to create and manage affordable homes themselves, building stability and accountability into the system.

Guernsey has the land. It has the professionals. It has the community spirit. What it needs now is leadership.

This is not just about housing. It is about whether Guernsey can continue to be a place where people live, thrive, and stay. The crisis, left unaddressed, risks not just market dysfunction but a fundamental erosion of what makes the island special.

From an outsider who chose this island, who wants to stay, and who believes in its future: the time for delay is over. Guernsey deserves better. And it begins with action.

Cheila Arruda
Architect