SLAPPs - Ben Jenkins vs. GreenSquareAccord

Introduction - Homes not Stock 

Housing associations often refer to houses and flats as stock. The people living in them call them homes. That difference matters more than it might first appear.

What a housing association may classify as stock, residents experience as home. Home is where we sleep, where we raise children, where we try to feel safe, where we attempt to build stability in an increasingly unstable world. There is a reason we have such a long tradition of describing our homes as our castles. They are the places we are meant to be safest, and when something threatens that safety, we are entitled to defend them.

We are not defending them from invaders anymore. There are no Vikings at the gates and no armies crossing the fields. But there are other threats; damp and mould, disrepair, botched repairs, fire safety failures, asbestos concerns, electrical defects, neglected communal spaces, ever-increasing service charges, and the slow erosion of living standards through poor management. In modern housing, danger is often quieter, more bureaucratic, and hidden behind process, but it is danger all the same.

Residents are told not to worry because we pay for management. Many of us pay service charges to organisations that undertake, in return, to maintain communal areas, keep buildings safe, deal with repairs, comply with regulations, and ensure the homes we live in are fit to live in. We are told there are systems for this. We are told there is governance. We are told there is oversight. We are told there are complaint processes if anything goes wrong.

And that should be right. When a housing association gets something wrong, it should be capable of hearing that, dealing with it, putting it right, and apologising where necessary. That is not anti-landlord. That is not unreasonable. That is what accountability looks like. It is also what restores confidence that the money residents pay, whether through rent, service charge, or both, is being properly and responsibly used. The striking thing is that housing associations themselves publicly agree with this.

Across the sector, the language is full of talk about listening, learning, and resident engagement. The government says social housing residents must be listened to and that complaints should be dealt with effectively. One government statement on social housing reform said residents would be better protected through measures to “ensure they are listened to.” Another government factsheet says the standards are intended to ensure “complaints are managed effectively and that tenants are listened to and provided with opportunities to engage.” A 2024 resident panel report commissioned by government went further still, saying meaningful engagement means residents’ feedback is “actively and effectively listened to” and that change is made, or at the very least residents are given open and transparent explanations when it is not.

The Housing Ombudsman’s own approach is built on the same idea. Its dispute resolution principles are simple: be fair, put things right, and learn from outcomes.

That is the public standard social landlords are expected to meet.

My own landlord, GreenSquareAccord, says much the same. On its website, it says: “We are committed to learning from all feedback. Whether you received a great service or you're not getting the level of service you expect, we want to know.” In another statement, following Housing Ombudsman scrutiny, Ruth Cooke said: “Getting things right for our customers is our top priority.” Elsewhere, GreenSquareAccord has said that “at the heart of all of this is a commitment to our customers,” while Ruth Cooke has also stated: “We are committed to being open and transparent as we work to put this right.”

Those are fine words. In fact, they are exactly the sort of words housing associations should be saying, the very same words and mantras that are echoed across all public-facing forums. The problem comes when those words are tested.

Because when a resident complains, and the complaints are ignored, and then further complaints are made about the ignored complaints, and then emails are sent chasing the emails that were ignored, and then further emails are sent chasing those too, something has already gone badly wrong. When that process builds into dozens or hundreds of emails over multiple unresolved issues, the real question is no longer whether the resident has become persistent. The real question is what failures of service, communication, and accountability caused things to reach that point in the first place.

That is the true test of an organisation. Not what it says in a strategy document. Not what it publishes after regulatory scrutiny. Not what sits on a website under “listening to feedback.” The true test is how it responds when the feedback is uncomfortable, persistent, and impossible to brush aside.

In my case, GreenSquareAccord’s response revealed more than any slogan ever could. Under the stewardship of Ruth Cooke, under the legal guidance of Sophie Atkinson, and with the narrative control of Steve Hayes, the organisation’s behaviour exposed the gap between public language and private conduct. What followed was not the sort of open, corrective, and resident-focused response the sector claims to believe in. It was something very different.

And that difference is exactly why this issue matters.

The SLAPP heard across the Sector

My own experience of what is now largely considered to be a SLAPP has now been mentioned twice in Parliament: once in a House of Commons debate, and again on 18 March at an Anti-SLAPP Coalition event. That did not happen because of some minor disagreement over tone or because I simply disliked how my landlord responded to criticism. It happened because the pattern of action used against me had all the hallmarks of an organisation trying to contain, isolate, and silence a resident after his complaints had already been upheld.

“It happened because the pattern of action used against me had all the hallmarks of an organisation trying to contain, isolate, and silence a resident after his complaints had already been upheld.”

The starting point matters. My complaints were not baseless. They were investigated and upheld by the Housing Ombudsman. GreenSquareAccord challenged the outcome, but the result remained the same: my complaints were genuine and affected not just me but my neighbours. The issues I had repeatedly raised were found to be legitimate, and GreenSquareAccord was found to have failed across multiple areas. That matters because everything that followed took place after an independent body had already concluded that I had good reason to complain.

The wider background had been building for years. As far back as 2020, GreenSquare was already apologising for long-running failures, acknowledging that issues had “been ongoing for a long time,” that they had involved “numerous members of staff without resolution,” and that there were “clear communication, ownership and record-keeping issues between internal departments.” It also accepted that a case manager was needed so concerns would not be “passed from person to person” and so that lessons could supposedly be learned when things went wrong.

In other words, this was never a case of a landlord dealing with a resident who had invented a dispute out of nowhere. GreenSquareAccord’s own records show repeated failings, incomplete record-keeping, and poor communication over a long period. The Housing Ombudsman later confirmed that those complaints had substance. But rather than resetting the relationship once those failures were established, GreenSquareAccord escalated the response against the person raising them.

There had already been contact restrictions and attempts to contain me. By September 2022, GreenSquareAccord had extended a formal contact management plan, restricting how I could communicate and directing all correspondence through a generic inbox. It said emails sent elsewhere would not be responded to, and that I was not to contact staff members or contractors directly. By December 2022, that position was repeated and hardened, including a decision not to respond to emails from my Housing Sector address because I was encouraging residents to report issues through a website I had created.

That website, the GreenSquareAccord Resident Support site (AKA ruthcooke.co.uk) which was labelled a ‘hate group’ internally by GSA, had been created because normal channels were failing. It offered residents support, guidance, and a place to document concerns. GreenSquareAccord’s response was to threaten legal action over it, including copyright allegations relating to the use of its logo and arguments that the site misled the public into thinking I was acting on the landlord’s behalf.

In August 2023, Trowers & Hamlins, acting for GreenSquareAccord, wrote demanding that I shut down the website, associated social media accounts and email address, stop using the logo, stop naming staff in hashtags, stop contacting the landlord directly, and refrain from creating any future online presence that they said might suggest a connection to GreenSquareAccord. The same letter warned that if I did not comply, GreenSquareAccord would seek a civil injunction and costs “likely to run into thousands of pounds.”

The timing of that matters. I replied on 14 August 2023, pointing out that the Housing Ombudsman had just upheld numerous complaints in my favour and awarded damages, and that the timing of the legal letter appeared indicative of the combative attitude GreenSquareAccord had shown towards me since around 2019. I also made clear that the website expressly stated that it was not affiliated with GreenSquareAccord and that I had repeatedly offered dialogue, mediation, and even the transfer of the websites, only to be ignored.

It is also important to say how the first court hearing came about. Before that hearing, I paid for one hour of legal advice myself. I was advised to offer undertakings, which I did. Those undertakings were significant, but they were also heavily reduced after the judge was extremely critical of GreenSquareAccord’s position, claiming that what GSA had attempted here was known as a ‘backdoor prosecution’, clearly demonstrated by its attempt to bring copyright infringement into the county court rather than the High Court.

That matters because it shows the gap between what GreenSquareAccord and its lawyers were trying to achieve and what the court was actually prepared to countenance.

On 9 November 2023, GreenSquareAccord’s injunction application was dismissed, although undertakings were accepted in narrowed form. Those undertakings were still broad. They included disabling particular webpages, placing specified wording on pages, not contacting GreenSquareAccord staff directly, not tagging staff on social media, and not naming employees in online publications unless they were listed on the organisation’s “our team” page or had “Director” in their job title.

One of the clearest examples of pressure came on the eve of that hearing. Trowers & Hamlins prepared a statement of costs for the 9 November 2023 hearing, putting GreenSquareAccord’s claimed costs at £9,160. The schedule, dated 6 November 2023, included solicitor time, counsel’s fees, court fees, and process server’s fees. I received that costs schedule by hand the night before the hearing. The message was obvious enough: if I lost, this is what I could be facing.

Yet GreenSquareAccord did not obtain the injunction it had sought, and there was no order for costs. In that context, the schedule reads less like a neutral procedural document and more like part of the pressure being brought to bear on an individual resident at the last possible moment.

The pressure did not stop there. Just days after the November hearing, Trowers & Hamlins wrote again alleging breach of undertaking and stating that GreenSquareAccord was entitled to seek committal to prison, a fine, or both. The basis of that claim was an expansive reading of what the undertaking required, including complaints about named references in posts, tags, links, and older online material.

That is an important point. I was clear in my understanding of the undertakings as I had written them. As such, I knew there had been no undertaking requiring the wholesale removal of historic webpages. Yet the later breach case appeared to rely on precisely that kind of widened interpretation. When that position was challenged in court, GreenSquareAccord’s barrister, when pressed by the judge, was reduced to saying that such a requirement “ought to have been” included. In other words, the argument being advanced went beyond what had actually been agreed. The case did not succeed. It was dismissed, and the costs were borne by GreenSquareAccord, including the costs of my own legal aid barrister.

Later documents make plain just how aggressively GreenSquareAccord was policing those undertakings. Its schedule of alleged breaches complained about blog posts, social media promotion, LinkedIn tags, hyperlinks to staff profiles, references to employees by name, and even changes to webpage addresses, which it said were attempts to “circumvent” the undertaking.

Taken together, this was not just routine complaint handling or proportionate management of difficult correspondence. It was a progression: ignored complaints, then managed communication, then formal contact restrictions, then legal threats aimed at shutting down a resident support platform, then court proceedings, then a last-minute £9,160 costs schedule, then threats of prison, fines, and further costs for alleged breaches. At each stage, the focus moved further away from the original housing issues and further towards controlling the person who would not stop raising them.

The pressure did not end with the failed court action. It escalated again. Around a week later, Steve Hayes, GreenSquareAccord’s Communications Director, reported me to the police for harassment despite never having met me, never having spoken to me, and never having encountered me at any event, because I had not attended them. In that report, despite the allegation being harassment without violence, he is said to have suggested that I could be violent and dangerous. That was later borne out in the police complaint, which also recorded the view that the report appeared to have been written by someone who knew how to trigger the appropriate arrest response. The result was that at around 1am on a Monday morning, six police officers arrived at my door and arrested me for harassment. I was taken away and held overnight in a police cell. The following morning, I was interviewed under caution with a solicitor present, yet no real evidence was produced. As I understand it, the only material relied upon was an email I had sent Steve Hayes some three years earlier asking whether he fancied meeting for a coffee. In context, I regard this as the final escalation in a long-running campaign of pressure: an attempt to secure a conviction, to discredit me, and to create a version of events that could then be used to further control the narrative. Had I been charged, GreenSquareAccord would have had exactly what it had been seeking all along — the ability to point to an arrest and present me not as a resident with upheld complaints, but as the problem. It was no longer really about the complaints themselves. It had become about stopping me from continuing to make them.

“It was no longer really about the complaints themselves. It had become about stopping me from continuing to make them.”

Can we all agree this was a SLAPP?

My case has now been discussed publicly by parliamentarians, national media, and investigative journalists as part of the wider conversation about why anti-SLAPP protections are needed in the UK.

The clearest example came in Parliament. During a House of Commons debate on SLAPPs on 21 November 2024, Green MP Siân Berry raised my case directly. She described me as “a citizen who made critical posts and comments in various forums about GreenSquareAccord,” the housing provider with which I co-own my home as a shared owner. She said campaigners like me speak up “when their housing provider fails, when their complaints disappear into the system and when their attempts to work with others to show the patterns in the impacts on fellow residents are delegitimised.” She then set out that I had faced “a series of serious legal threats” after speaking out about drug taking in corridors, poor-quality repairs, and safety risks, despite the Housing Ombudsman having found that GreenSquareAccord had failed to respond adequately to a series of serious complaints.

“Safety in housing completely depends upon maintaining good standards and public accountability.”

That matters because it places my experience in a much wider public-interest context. Berry did not present this as a private spat or an unfortunate misunderstanding. She explicitly linked it to the way powerful organisations can use legal pressure to suppress grassroots scrutiny, particularly in housing, where residents often raise safety concerns long before official bodies act. She made the point plainly: “Safety in housing completely depends upon maintaining good standards and public accountability,” and that, in turn, depends on this kind of whistleblowing. That is not my language. That is a Member of Parliament, speaking on the parliamentary record, identifying what happened to me as part of a wider democratic problem.

The Guardian also cited my case when reporting on the growing demand for anti-SLAPP legislation. In its coverage of the cross-party push to outlaw SLAPPs, it referred to examples raised in Parliament, including my case involving GreenSquareAccord. The article reported that SLAPPs are increasingly seen as tools used to intimidate and silence people speaking in the public interest, and it included my case among the examples used to show why reform is needed. Again, the significance here is not simply that my name appeared in a newspaper. It is that a national publication treated my experience as relevant evidence in a debate about abuse of legal process and freedom of expression.

The Bureau of Investigative Journalism took the same view. In its reporting on stories raised during the SLAPPs debate, it described me as “a housing campaigner who faced multiple legal threats” from GreenSquareAccord after repeatedly raising concerns about the safety and adequacy of my home. It also reported Siân Berry’s statement that the battle with GreenSquareAccord had had a “serious ongoing effect” on my mental health. The Bureau linked my case directly to the issue of accountability in housing, quoting Berry’s warning that “money and resources are used to shield the powerful from proper public scrutiny when they should be held to account.”

That independent framing is important. For years, the easiest way for a housing association to neutralise a resident is to present them as difficult, obsessive, unreasonable, and, as I would later discover, vexatious. Once that label sticks, the underlying issues can be pushed into the background. What these public references do is reverse that process. They show that people outside the dispute — journalists, MPs, campaigners, and investigative bodies — can see the wider pattern for what it is. They can see that this is not just about one resident sending too many emails. It is about how a large organisation responds when a resident raises uncomfortable truths in public.

It also matters that these references all place my experience in the context of public interest. That phrase is crucial. I was not writing about gossip, personality clashes, or private vendettas. I was raising issues about repairs, safety, complaints handling, service quality, and the treatment of residents. Those are matters of public interest in any sector. In housing, they are even more serious, because when complaints are ignored, the consequences are not abstract. They can involve unsafe homes, financial harm, damaged health, and, in the worst cases, real threats to life.

So this is not about self-validation. It is about evidential weight. Hansard, national reporting, and investigative journalism have all now recognised the seriousness of what happened. That does not decide the legal definition on its own, but it does make one thing clear: describing this as a SLAPP issue is not a fringe claim made only by me. It is a conclusion that others, in public and on the record, have also reached.

The Seriousness of SLAPPs

A SLAPP is, in simple terms, the use of legal or quasi-legal pressure not primarily to win a case fairly on its merits, but to intimidate, exhaust, or silence somebody speaking in the public interest. The Council of Europe defines SLAPPs as legal actions “threatened, initiated or pursued as a means of harassing or intimidating their target” and aimed at preventing, restricting, or penalising public participation and free expression on matters of public interest. The UK’s own legislation has also described SLAPPs as actions brought to cause harassment, alarm, distress, expense, or some other harm beyond the ordinary consequences of properly conducted litigation.

That matters because the damage is often done long before any court reaches a final conclusion. In many cases, the threat alone can be enough. A solicitor’s letter, an injunction threat, a demand to remove material, a warning about costs, a suggestion that committal or prison may follow — these things do not have to succeed in court to have an effect. They consume time. They create fear. They force people to second-guess what they say, what they publish, and whether they can afford to continue. This is precisely why SLAPPs are treated as such a serious problem: they chill free expression before the legal merits are ever truly tested.

“They chill free expression before the legal merits are ever truly tested.”

That is why SLAPPs are so widely frowned upon. They distort the legal system by turning it into a weapon of attrition. They tilt the field towards the party with the deeper pockets, the bigger legal team, and the greater institutional resilience. They discourage whistleblowing. They discourage scrutiny. They discourage ordinary people from speaking up at all. In practice, they send a message that raising uncomfortable truths may be more trouble than it is worth. The result is not simply unfairness to one defendant. It is a broader culture of silence. The UK government has itself said that SLAPPs “fundamentally undermine freedom of speech and the rule of law.”

Other countries and institutions have moved further than the UK in responding to that danger. In March 2024, the European Union gave final approval to its anti-SLAPP directive, introducing protections such as early dismissal of manifestly unfounded claims, costs consequences for abusive claimants, compensation, and penalties. The Council of Europe followed with its own recommendation in April 2024, urging member states to create comprehensive anti-SLAPP protections and identifying common warning signs such as power imbalance, disproportionate remedies, and abusive litigation tactics. The UK, by contrast, has moved only partially and remains behind the wider European direction of travel.

In housing, this issue becomes especially serious. Residents do not usually speak out for amusement. They speak out because something has gone wrong: repairs have not been done, safety checks have been missed, service charges do not make sense, complaints are being ignored, governance has failed, or the landlord’s public messaging does not match lived reality. These are not trivial issues. They concern the condition, cost, and safety of people’s homes. When someone raising those concerns is threatened, restricted, or worn down, the effect is not just reputational management for the landlord. It can mean real problems stay hidden for longer.

The Grenfell Inquiry showed exactly where that kind of culture can lead. Residents raised concerns, warned about safety, and tried to be heard, yet too often they were treated as a nuisance rather than as people identifying real risk. The Inquiry found that some residents regarded the TMO as “an uncaring and bullying overlord, which belittled and marginalised them, regarded them as a nuisance or worse, and simply failed to take their concerns seriously.” It also found that the TMO had “lost sight of the fact that the residents were people who depended on it for a safe and decent home”.

In housing, that is what makes attempts to silence, discredit, or wear down residents so dangerous. Suppressing criticism is not just a matter of protecting a brand from embarrassment. It can affect whether damp and mould are challenged, whether fire risks are escalated, whether overcharging is questioned, whether vulnerable residents are heard, and whether systemic failure is exposed before it harms more people. When the people living with the risk are dismissed, the risk itself is allowed to harden into tragedy.

So when people say SLAPPs are shameful, they are right. They are not just legally troubling. They are democratically corrosive. And in housing, where the subject matter is people’s homes, health, and safety, they are even harder to justify.

The impact of the SLAPPs

One point I want to make absolutely clear is this: going through something like this is hard. Much harder than people often realise from the outside.

It is easy for organisations, lawyers, and communications teams to reduce all of this to correspondence, procedure, policy, and process. On paper, it becomes a series of letters, restrictions, undertakings, court hearings, and complaint responses. But that is not how it feels when you are the one living through it. When you are the person on the receiving end, it is stressful, draining, and at times deeply exhausting. It sits in the background of your life and then suddenly in the foreground of it. It consumes time, money, energy, and headspace. It creates uncertainty. It creates fear. It makes you second-guess what is coming next, what fresh allegation may be made, what new letter is about to arrive, and what part of your evening, weekend, or income is about to be swallowed up dealing with it.

For context, every time I went to court, I was the only one there, besides my wife, who was not being paid for the day.

I did not set out to become a housing activist, a housing campaigner, or even somebody publicly commenting on the housing sector. I did not choose this as a career path, a hobby, or a route to attention. And despite what GreenSquareAccord have at times implied, I do not do this because I want to be famous or because I have too much time on my hands. The last thing my life needs is notoriety. I do not crave it, and I do not seek it. I found myself here because serious issues were not being dealt with, because complaints that should have been answered were being ignored, and because once I could see the pattern, I could not in good conscience pretend it was not there.

The reality is that many other residents simply cannot do what I have done, even if they want to. They do not have the time, confidence, resilience, money, or appetite to take on a housing association and its lawyers. Some do not have the health for it. Some do not have support around them. Some are already worn down by daily life. Some are frightened, and not without reason. So part of what has kept me going is knowing that I am in a position, however imperfectly, to keep speaking when others cannot.

That does not mean there has been no cost. There has been, and it has been substantial.

My working life has changed. I have gone from earning a decent wage in a good job to piecing things together through different assignments and trying to make ends meet. I have landed on my feet with my latest role, and I am grateful for that, but it also means the housing work now happens around everything else.

Evenings. Weekends. Spare hours that are not really spare at all. While other people are switching off, I am reading documents, preparing responses, working on Housing Sector, checking facts, updating the website, and dealing with the continuing fallout of a dispute that should never have been allowed to escalate this far. I do not do that for glory. I do it because the issues still matter.

There is also the wider personal toll. Pressure like this affects home life. It affects confidence. It changes how much mental space you have for ordinary things. It teaches you to anticipate hostility. It makes you more cautious, but also more stubborn. It can make you angry. It can make you tired. It can make you question whether speaking up is worth it, which is, of course, part of the point. Because that is what this kind of pressure is designed to do. It is designed not just to win an argument, but to make you think twice about ever raising one again.

“It is designed not just to win an argument, but to make you think twice about ever raising one again.”

And the behaviour of named individuals matters here, because these things do not happen in a vacuum. Steve Hayes did not simply sit in the background. He reached out to organisations and media outlets, including the Chartered Institute of Housing, Four Million Homes, ITV, the BBC, and the Oxford Mail, pushing claims about me that I do not accept and which I say were and are false. That took what was already an exhausting dispute and widened it into an attempt to shape how others saw me before they ever heard from me directly.

Sophie Atkinson pursued legal action that, in my view, should never have been pursued as far as it was and now risks her own professional reputation. Ruth Cooke, as Chief Executive, presided over an approach that allowed all of this to continue under her leadership. These are not minor details. They form part of the overall weight of what I was dealing with.

I also think it is fair to say that GreenSquareAccord expected me not to last the distance. I was supposed to be frightened by the legal pressure. I was supposed to be worn down by the costs, the restrictions, the correspondence, and the reputational attacks. I was supposed to step back, go quiet, and disappear. That was the calculation. The problem for GreenSquareAccord is that I did not.

And yet, for all of that, I cannot deny that the process has changed me. It has forced me to grow. It has made me tougher, more focused, and more aware of how power operates when scrutiny becomes uncomfortable. I would never have chosen this route, but I can at least say it has shown me what I am capable of enduring. There is something clarifying about being pushed and finding that you are still standing.

But none of this needed to happen.

If GreenSquareAccord had simply fixed the issues years ago, none of this would have followed. If the complaints had been dealt with properly, if the service had matched the charges, if the homes had been kept warm, safe, dry, and affordable, if residents had been listened to rather than managed, then life would have looked very different. I would likely have had more time, more money, more peace, and a much quieter existence. GreenSquareAccord could have spared itself the legal fees, the reputational damage, and the scrutiny that has followed.

Instead, under Ruth Cooke’s leadership, with Sophie Atkinson pushing the legal route and Steve Hayes helping to spread a damaging narrative about me more widely, the organisation chose escalation. It chose to keep going long after common sense should have intervened. It chose a path that exposed not just its own failings, but the judgement of those leading that response.

It should never have reached the point where a resident with upheld complaints was facing legal threats, court pressure, reputational smears, and attempts to isolate him from wider support. It should never have reached the point where a housing association, instead of reflecting on its own behaviour, doubled down through communications management, legal action, and narrative control. But it did.

And I think that matters, because there is a tendency in these situations to treat the target as though they must somehow be built for it, as though resilience cancels harm. It does not. Just because I kept going does not mean it was easy. Just because I did not back down does not mean there was no toll. There was. There is.

GreenSquareAccord misjudged one thing badly. I was not prepared to give up simply because they turned the pressure up. I kept going. And now they have to live with the consequences of the choices they made, just as I have had to live with the consequences of enduring them.

During the Anti-SLAPPs debate in the House of Commons last week, I was praised for standing my ground under pressure and for my honesty. My response was simple: Papa Jenks didn’t raise dishonest cowards.

What happens next is no longer really for GreenSquareAccord to control. I have said what I need to say, set out the pattern as I experienced it, and placed it in its proper context. I will now leave the relevant questions to the Housing Ombudsman, the Information Commissioner’s Office and the Solicitors Regulation Authority. They can decide what scrutiny, findings or consequences, if any, should follow. As for me, I am putting this behind me. There is only so much time that should be wasted on one organisation’s efforts to silence criticism. I have other work to do, and the next issue already waiting on the agenda is service charges.

Right of Reply

A right of reply was offered to GreenSquareAccord ahead of publication. They confirmed via email that they would not be responding, stating: “Our approach to the GSA residents’ group has not changed, in that we do not recognise it as an official residents’ group and do not plan to exercise our right to reply on any articles you choose to publish (either through this group or the Housing Sector).”

Right of reply has also been offered to the Chartered Institute of Housing, Four Million Homes, the National Housing Federation, and Trowers & Hamlins. Should any responses be received, whether before or after publication, they will be published here in full.