Punished for Poverty: Queensland’s Social Housing Crisis

Sarah didn’t hear the knock at first—the shouting outside drowned it out. By the time she opened the door, her eldest’s son’s friend had already stormed off, leaving only the echo of an argument in the humid night air.

A week later, the letter arrived: a breach notice. Her third in eleven months. There was no verbal warning and no second chance. One more strike, it warned, and she and her children could be evicted—banned from applying for social housing for 12 months.

Her “offence”? Someone else’s raised voice.

Sarah’s experience is not unique. Across Queensland, single mothers, pensioners, and people with disabilities are being forced out of the social housing system for incidents they didn’t cause—sometimes for nothing more than an accusation. Behind the government’s talk of “community safety” lies a quieter truth: the most vulnerable are being erased from the system, their absence recast as progress.

Housing as a Human Right Under Threat

Housing isn’t a privilege. It’s a human right—one Australia has promised to uphold under the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights. That promise is being broken.

Instead of protecting people’s homes, Queensland’s housing policies turn the safety net into a trap door. Three accusations can trigger eviction, and then you’re locked out of the system entirely.

Behind the Policy: Zero-Tolerance Reforms

The changes took effect on July 1, 2025, stemming from amendments to the Residential Tenancies and Rooming Accommodation Act 2008, strengthened through the Housing Legislation Amendment Act 2021. Premier David Crisafulli’s Liberal government frames these as necessary reforms to create a “fairer” and “safer” social housing system.

Housing Minister Sam O’Connor has defended the approach, claiming that “Labor let public housing management descend into chaos with no practical framework for housing officers to take action against the small minority of people who do the wrong thing.” But Queensland has had anti-social behaviour management frameworks in place for over a decade—introduced under the Housing 2020 Strategy by former Liberal premier Campbell Newman. What’s new isn’t the framework; it’s the zero-tolerance severity.

The department maintains that extensive support services are available before eviction occurs. But the reality on the ground tells a different story.

Evicted Without Evidence

The policy creates two tiers of punishment. For “severe or illegal activities”—including assault, drug manufacturing, or dangerous behaviour—tenants face immediate eviction and a two-year housing ban. No charges required. No conviction needed. Just an accusation.

For “serious behaviour” like property damage or aggressive language, tenants get three breach notices within 12 months before eviction and a 12-month ban. Gone are verbal warnings—the policy jumps straight to formal written notices that can lead directly to homelessness.

And the punishment doesn’t stop there. Tenants are held responsible for the actions of visitors or household members. A neighbour’s guest starts a fight? That’s a breach notice. Your adult child makes a mistake? Another strike toward eviction.

Maria, a 67-year-old pensioner, was evicted immediately after her grandson was accused of drug dealing—charges that were later dropped. Under the “severe” category, no strikes were needed. Just the accusation was enough to end her tenancy and ban her from social housing for two years.

David, who uses a wheelchair, has collected two breach notices after his carer allegedly used aggressive language with other tenants. The incidents were never proven, but the breach notices remain on his file under the “serious” behaviour category, leaving him one strike away from eviction and a 12-month housing ban.

For people already living on the edge, it’s a near-impossible standard: keep your home only if everyone around you behaves perfectly—forever.

Making the Homeless Invisible

Eviction carries a 12-month or two-year ban from reapplying for social housing, depending on the alleged offence—meaning people can lose access to housing entirely based on accusations alone.

To access federally funded homelessness services, you must have an active housing application. No application means no help. And without those names on the books, the government can point to shorter waiting lists and claim the policy is “working.”

But people don’t vanish. They just become invisible—sleeping in cars, couch-surfing, or hiding in unsafe situations.

A Housing Crisis Ignored

The government’s emphasis on creating a “fairer” system obscures a deeper failure: the housing system itself is broken. Homelessness in Queensland has surged 20 per cent since 2018. The number of people at risk of homelessness has skyrocketed by 80 per cent, jumping from 396,000 to a staggering 715,000. In Greater Brisbane alone, more than 112,000 households are in housing stress—up 22,000 since the 2021 Census. Over 47,820 people remain on the waiting list, with an average wait of two and a half years.

The government’s promise of 53,500 new homes by 2044 sounds impressive—until you realise that’s fewer than 3,000 per year for the next two decades. Meanwhile, the housing crisis deepens daily.

This isn’t just state government policy—it’s a coordinated approach that makes homelessness invisible rather than addressing it. While Crisafulli’s government evicts people from social housing, local councils are criminalising their very existence. Moreton Bay Council has declared sleeping in its parklands illegal. Brisbane City Council announced a “crackdown” on rough sleepers in parks. The message is clear: you’re not welcome in public housing, and you’re not welcome in public spaces either.

Instead of urgently building more homes or funding support services, this systematic approach criminalises poverty. State-led evictions combined with council crackdowns reframe homelessness as a public nuisance—not the systemic failure it truly is.

The government’s claim about “high income” tenants exploiting social housing deflects from the real issue: there simply aren’t enough homes. O’Connor’s assertion that Labor left “no practical framework” is demonstrably false—the frameworks existed, but his government has weaponised them. Their zero-sum thinking ignores the fundamental shortage of affordable housing. Removing vulnerable people doesn’t solve the crisis—it just makes it less visible.

Solutions That Work: Housing First

Around the world, “Housing First” approaches have worked. Finland’s Y-Foundation has virtually eliminated rough sleeping. In Salt Lake City, housing chronically homeless people saved taxpayers money while improving lives.

These programmes start with a simple truth: stable housing is the foundation for solving other challenges—mental health, addiction, employment. Housing is not a reward for perfect behaviour. It’s the starting point for recovery and stability.

Queensland is doing the opposite—making housing conditional, and withdrawing it when it’s needed most.

A Policy of Punishment, Not Prevention

This isn’t inevitable. It’s a choice. The government could choose evidence-based solutions that work. Instead, it has chosen punishment.

How You Can Help End Punitive Housing Policies

• Contact your local representative: Demand an end to evictions without alternative housing.
• Support advocacy groups: Back organisations like Shelter Queensland and the Queensland Council of Social Service.
• Share the truth: Talk about the real impact of these policies.
• Show up: Attend council meetings where rough sleeping bans are discussed.

We can choose to punish poverty. Or we can choose to end it. We can look away. Or we can act.