Insecure Housing and the Ongoing Search for Ontological Security: How Low-Income Older Women Cope

ABSTRACT

The paper examines how people experiencing persistent housing insecurity hold on to or restore ontological security. Conceptually it recognises ontological security as an “ongoing accomplishment” that is “actively sought”, and introduces four coping constructs theorised by Giddens as ways that individuals cope with persistent threats to security. The domestic practices of low-income, single older women living in various forms of insecure housing in Australia are the focus. The paper identifies “emotion-focused” and “action-focused” strategies through which women sought ontological security, including efforts to mentally accommodate insecurity, tenancy practices, through which they engaged with housing risk, and the use of storage facilities as holding sites of identity and routine. These strategies resonate with and extend Giddens' four coping constructs to the housing field, reflecting pragmatic acceptance of housing risk, sustained optimism in the face of housing risk, cynical pessimism, and engagement with housing risk. The paper reveals dynamic and fraught relations between home and ontological security that are frequently an exercise in cruel optimism.

KEYWORDS:

• Ontological security
• home
• older women
• storage
• cruel optimism

Introduction

Ontological security describes a feeling of confidence and trust in the reliability and continuity of oneself and the surrounding material and social context (Giddens 1990). A secure home is an important foundation of ontological security and, since Saunders (1990) and Dupuis and Thorns (1998), in homeowner societies the owned home has been understood as the archetypal source of this security: providing the tenure security and privacy that underpin senses of reliability and the continuity of self. Insecure housing, on the other hand, typically correlates with diminished ontological security. Low-income renters in particular report low levels of housing security, leading to reduced ability to imagine or plan for the future (Hiscock et al. 2001; Colic-Peisker, Ong, and Wood 2015; Morris, Hulse, and Pawson 2017; Stonehouse, Threlkeld, and Theobald 2020). The focus of much research has been on whether individuals “feel secure or not” (Morris, Hulse, and Pawson 2017, p657) according to factors like tenure, income, and housing affordability. This work is vital in establishing connections between housing and ontological security. Yet, ontological security is not a possession that is simply held or lost. Giddens (1976, 117) theorizes that it is an “ongoing accomplishment”, a basic need that individuals actively seek out and work to maintain, restore, and secure.

In their pioneering work, Dupuis and Thorns (1998, 30) address this search for ontological security in the context of homeownership. They recognize ontological security as “a phenomenon that is actively sought at a conscious level” and which, “like any other social action is shaped and constrained by the particular framework or setting in which it occurs”. In the homeowner nation that is the focus of their work, homeowners pursue home ownership as a source of ontological security, referencing its offer of constancy and stability and valuing it as a source of spatial and temporal roots, belonging, purpose, and a locus of routine, in an increasingly uncertain world (Dupuis and Thorns 1998; Hiscock et al. 2001; Saunders 1990). However, little attention has been given to the active search for ontological security outside of homeownership, and particularly amongst the insecurely housed. There is research that identifies factors (such as income) that mediate ontological security. For example, homeowners struggling with affordability have been shown to report feelings consistent with ontological insecurity (Hiscock et al. 2001; Colic-Peisker, Ong, and Wood 2015), while private renters with higher incomes report greater feelings of security due to confidence that they will be able to secure future housing if forced to move (Morris, Hulse, and Pawson 2017). But what of those experiencing insecurity? This is the question that is taken up in this paper, which conceptualizes how households that are insecurely housed respond to that stress, including how they seek to hold on to or restore ontological security.

The housing experiences and domestic practices of single older women aged 55 and above living on very low incomes in various forms of insecure housing in Australia are the focus of this paper. These women are representatives of the fastest growing group of homeless people in the country (ABS 2019), a risk driven by gendered income insecurity and an escalating housing market. According to 2018 data, 240,000 women aged 55 and over were at risk of homelessness. Living alone not being employed full time, and renting are the key factors that drive this risk, with renters facing twice the risk of homelessness of those with a mortgage (Lester and Faulkner 2020). Single older women who rent face persistent challenges with housing affordability and report living in housing that is of low or degraded quality (Power 2019, 2020a). They also experience budget implications as a consequence of housing costs, reporting challenges meeting food needs and managing utility bills. Women in this situation report high levels of housing insecurity (Power 2020a). The paper does not focus on how housing insecurity directly drives ontological in/security: direct connections between insecure housing and ontological security are already well established, as discussed below. Instead, the purpose of this paper is to explore Gidden’s conceptualization of ontological security as an “ongoing accomplishment” in the context of insecure housing, an idea, and set of practices that remains under-considered.

Colic-Peisker, Ong, and Wood’s (2015) research, identifying a series of practical strategies through which older low-income renters seek security (particularly, remaining employed post-retirement age and moving to lower cost regions) is an important foundation for this paper. This paper extends that work through in-depth engagement with the housing and home-making practices of older low-income renters who are insecurely housed in order to identify the fuller sets of housing-connected practices through which this group negotiates and seeks security. From this empirical starting point, the paper conceptualizes coping strategies amongst the insecurely housed. It does this by introducing four theoretical coping constructs that Giddens (1990) identifies as ways for individuals to cope with persistent threats to security, and which have not been previously explored in the context of housing. Conceptualizing participant accounts through this lens, the paper identifies emotion-focused and action-focused strategies (Wakefield and Elliott 2000) through which women cope with, respond to, and seek ontological security across periods of housing insecurity. Women’s responses resonate with and extend Giddens (1990) four theoretical coping constructs to the housing field, reflecting pragmatic acceptance of housing risk, sustained optimism in the face of housing risk, cynical pessimism, and engagement with the conditions of housing risk.

As housing prices continue to outpace incomes and housing insecurity grows in the homeowner nations of Australia (Convery 2021; Productivity Commission 2019), New Zealand (StatsNZ 2022), the United States (JCHS 2020) and the United Kingdom (ONS 2022), there is a growing need to better understand how people living in insecure housing cope, alongside the benefits and risks connected with these practices. The practices reported in this paper shed light on the conditions of ontological security in the context of housing insecurity. They reveal the dynamic and fraught relationship between home and ontological security that in many cases is an exercise in what Berlant (2011, 4) terms “cruel optimism”, pursued to strengthen feelings of security but ultimately reinforcing extant harm. This approach reinforces the deep insecurity and limited agency of low-income households in the context of limited rental regulation and social housing undersupply while also pointing to moments of fracture that suggest pathways to more secure housing futures.

Ontological Security and Risk

Ontological security refers to:

the confidence that most human beings have in the continuity of their self-identity and in the constancy of the surrounding social and material environments of action. A sense of the reliability of persons and things, so central to the notion of trust, is basic to feelings of ontological security; hence the two are psychologically closely related. (Giddens 1990, 92).

Trust and routine are vital, interconnected dimensions of ontological security. Routine brings predictability and its loss is accompanied by a loss of ontological security. To feel secure people must trust in other people and the reliability of social routines. This is underpinned in the contemporary world through abstract systems like commodified markets (Giddens 1990, 119), money, the division of labour, and systems that provide “water, power for heating and lighting, and sanitized sewage disposal” (Giddens 1991, 134–5) and which quietly organize and support everyday life (cf. Power and Mee 2020, on housing systems). We productively understand these abstract systems as infrastructures of everyday life, capturing the ways in which they bring stability to routines within and beyond the home (Power and Mee 2020; Power et al. 2022). Like other infrastructures, when they are working well they disappear into the workings of everyday life (Power and Mee 2020; Berlant 2016) and trust in them supports ontological security (Giddens 1991).

When the world is not reliable, individuals frequently experience loss of ontological security. There is growing concern, captured in “risk society” hypotheses, that the contemporary world is increasingly beset and organized through risk, including global risks such as nuclear war or climate change, new “institutionalized risk environments” such as investment markets, alongside a growing public awareness of risk (Giddens 1990, 124–5). The ability of abstract systems that might have formerly underpinned securities, such as welfare systems, is also at question (cf. Giddens 1998, “Third Way” thesis). Analysing pension provision in the UK, Ring (2005, 346), for instance, argues that “individuals are no longer able to vest trust in the abstract system of the welfare state sufficient to engender the security they seek in relation to their future retirement”. This is also the case for older women in this paper, for whom welfare state income entitlements are increasingly out of step with an escalating housing market.

However, ontological security does not simply exist. Rather, it is sought after and, when achieved, is actively maintained and secured. This is part of the work of everyday life that all people are engaged in. As Giddens (1990, 98) explains, “The continuity of the routines of daily life is achieved only through the constant vigilance of the parties involved”. This relies upon the relational work of individuals, who act in ways that demonstrate and build social trust. It also relies on the maintenance and predictability of abstract systems that support everyday life. Giddens identifies a link between these, observing how “individuals at access points [to abstract systems] normally go to great pains to show themselves to be trustworthy: they provide the link between personal and system trust”. Sarradon-Eck, Farnarier, and Hymans (2014) address this dynamic in the homelessness sector, describing how staff work to build relationships with new clients and extend that trust to the team as a whole. This work, they argue, is “amongst other things, about renewing a person’s trust in [an abstract] care system” (Sarradon-Eck, Farnarier, and Hymans 2014, 258).

People also have the capacity to adapt in ways that are helpful for coping with ontological security. Questioning how people manage the growing number of “low-probability high-consequence risks” that beset the modern world, Giddens (1990) postulates four main types of adaptive reactions: pragmatic acceptance (characterized by “numbness” towards the issue and withdrawal into everyday, Wakefield and Elliott 2000, 1141), sustained optimism, cynical pessimism, and radical engagement. Where the first three imply accommodation to risk (what Wakefield and Elliott 2000, in their work on environmental risk perception term “emotion-focused” coping strategies) and “can serve the purposes of day-to-day ‘survival’ in many respects”, the fourth describes

an attitude of practical contestation towards perceived sources of danger. Those taking a stance of radical engagement hold that, although we are beset by major problems, we can and should mobilise either to reduce their impact or to transcend them. This is an optimistic outlook, but one bound up with contestory action rather than a faith in rational analysis and discussion. Its prime vehicle is the social movement (Giddens 1990, 137)

Wakefield and Elliott (2000) describe this fourth response as “action-focused”, capturing the practical nature of the response where a material circumstance is acted upon or changed through concrete action. In their work, action-focused strategies include both radical engagement, where respondents challenge the drivers of risk, and more individually focused actions, such as moving house to relocate away from identified risks.

While Giddens' focus is low probability and high consequence risks, people also respond and adapt to more everyday risks that threaten feelings of security. For growing numbers housing insecurity is a high probability, high consequence risk, that is part of how contemporary market-based housing systems are made (Madden and Marcuse 2016). This insecurity is reinforced through the residualisation of welfare systems, leaving those at the edge of the market with few alternatives. Everyday life is where these circumstances are confronted. This is where people individually and collectively perform modest acts that seek space for the survival and continuity of self over time (Lancione 2020). How people negotiate ontological insecurity in these circumstances is the focus of this paper.

Housing, Home, and Ontological Security

For many, homes are an important source of ontological security (Saunders 1990; Dupuis and Thorns 1998; Hiscock et al. 2001). Dupuis and Thorns (1998, 29) identify the conditions of home that underpin this, identifying that ontological security can be maintained when:

(1) Home is the site of constancy in the social and material environment; (2) Home is a spatial context in which the day-to-day routines of human existence are performed; (3) home is a site where people feel most in control of their lives because they feel free from the surveillance that is part of the contemporary world; (4) home is a secure base around which identities are constructed.

In homeowner societies like Australia, the US, and UK, the owned home, “the material environment most closely associated with permanence and continuity”, is the paradigmatic form of this security (Dupuis and Thorns 1998, 31). Homeowners in Dupuis and Thorns (1998) research foreground the privacy and control connected to the home. They valued the ability to make choices about where they lived, which was afforded through ownership, and counterposed this to the insecurity of renters who they saw as being “subject to the whims of the landlord and [with] eviction a constant fear” (Dupuis and Thorns 1998, 31). Control over housing futures also enabled homes to be a secure base for identity. Private, and free from surveillance, homeowners described modifying and decorating their homes so that they reflected household needs, interests, and identities. Homeownership also brought economic security, providing “a way of building up capital” that could sustain family legacy across time (Dupuis and Thorns 1998, 32).

Renting, in contrast, is connected with diminished ontological security. For social renters, stigmatization of social housing and living in poor or “problematic neighbourhoods” are drivers (Hiscock et al. 2001, 63). Similarly, for private renters in homeowner societies like Australia, the US, and UK, short average lease lengths, and legal prioritization of landlord rights to buy and sell properties undermine security (Bate 2021; Easthope 2014; Hulse and Milligan 2014), making it difficult for rented housing to afford constancy over time or provide a secure base for identity. Renters interviewed by Bate (2021) instead report achieving a sense of constancy via mobile possessions, such as furnishings and other personal items in which they embed meaning and can recreate a sense of home when relocating. For people experiencing ongoing difficulties accessing long-term housing, the experience can be more challenging again. In Stonehouse, Threlkeld, and Theobald’s (2020, 13) research, with people leaving homelessness, the precarity of the private rental sector risked a return to homelessness and “deepened feelings of insecurity”.

However, connections between housing and ontological security are more nuanced than tenure alone. Hiscock et al. (2001, 62) for instance find that “having wealth, living in a nice area, living in a larger and better quality dwelling and being settled in relationships and work” are positively connected with ontological security across tenure. In their research, homeowners who were unable to afford repairs or felt trapped in undesirable neighbourhoods reported insecurity that was comparable with some renter households. On the other hand, they find that control over housing can contribute to feelings of ontological security across tenure. In brief, wealthier households in their research reported the financial capacity to exercise autonomy via home repairs, while those with home maintenance skills could more readily undertake low-cost repairs. While these nuances were recorded across tenure, renters in the private sector were least able to benefit due to landlord reticence to approve property changes and the possibility of eviction meaning they would lose any financial or time investment in the property.

One study does begin identifying coping practices in the context of housing insecurity. Like others, Colic-Peisker, Ong, and Wood (2015, 171) identify continuities in ontological security across tenure. In their work, older people living in precarious housing, including those with “a substantial mortgage debt post-retirement; private renting on a low income; and residence in public housing … where this is not a secure tenure ‘for life’”, report diminished feelings of security. The authors ask how these households cope. Homeowners in their sample reported most options, including downsizing or otherwise leveraging housing wealth. Private renters reported least options, frequently working beyond retirement age in order to afford rent, moving to cheaper localities, and in one case accessing a local soup kitchen (Colic-Peisker, Ong, and Wood 2015). This paper builds upon that work. By bringing focus to the housing and home-making practices of low-income tenants and engaging with the theoretical coping constructs developed in Giddens' early work, this paper identifies and conceptualizes an expanded set of coping strategies, incorporating emotional and action-focused strategies and including practices oriented towards reworking the conditions of housing risk.

Central to the approach in this paper, and the extension of Colic-Peisker, Ong, and Wood (2015) work, is an expanded theorization of the sources and drivers of ontological insecurity amongst the precariously housed. Existing studies establish connections between ontological security and home, shaped through factors like tenure and affordability and mediated through factors like income. They especially establish the greater challenges faced by renters, and particularly low-income renters. However, bringing an expanded reading of ontological security to these analyses suggests a deeper source of anxiety: that people experiencing sustained housing insecurity may also lack trust in the abstract systems of exchange, the commodified markets, through which housing is accessed. Giddens argues that trust can be vested in these systems when their “impersonal principles” are retained, when they “answer back’ only in a statistical way when they do not deliver the outcomes which the individual seeks”. (Giddens 1990, 114–5). For those insecurely housed the “impersonal principles” of exchange are often missing. Instead, market access is frequently marked by social differences and discrimination. In Australia, social welfare recipients, “families with small children, large families and people with physical and mental disabilities” (Hulse, Milligan, and Easthope 2011, 59) face elevated risks, while racial discrimination is noted internationally (Andersen et al. 2018; Massey and Lundy 2001; Pager and Shepherd 2008). Similar discriminatory processes are also present in employment markets. While research readily points to factors that can explain the loss of ontological security amongst those who are insecurely housed, we know little about the quotidian responses through which people cope and respond. Following an overview of the research methods, the paper brings focus to the emotion- and action-focused coping strategies employed by older women negotiating long-term housing insecurity.

Research Methods

The paper draws on in-depth interviews conducted between 2016 and 2019 as part of research about the housing experiences of single older women aged 55 and over who are not homeowners in the greater Sydney region, Australia. These women are representatives of the fastest growing group of homeless people in Australia. Their housing precarity is a product of intersecting risks. Women face economic disadvantages due to the gendered pay gap, and time out of the workforce for parenting. They typically retire with less superannuation than men and are less likely to recover financially after divorce. These gendered risks intersect with the rate of government pensions and allowances (including Aged Pension, JobSeeker, an unemployment allowance and the Disability Support Pension¹) which are low relative to the cost of housing. A rental affordability snapshot conducted in March 2021 found that in greater Sydney of 24,978 properties advertised for rent, only 26 were affordable to a single person receiving the Aged Pension; 5 to a Disability Support Pension recipient and none (0) to a JobSeeker recipient (Andersen, Bellamy, and King 2021). In conjunction with growing social housing waiting lists, high rents within the private rental sector mean that women who are not homeowners have few options for secure housing.

Forty-six women with low incomes (in the bottom 20% of household incomes in Australia) and who were not homeowners took part in the research that this paper draws on. This paper focuses on interviews with 38 of these 46 women. The 38 women considered in this paper had experienced sustained periods of housing insecurity (see Table 1): 36 experienced insecurities in the private rental sector and 6 recounted periods of homelessness. Other forms of insecure housing included housing that was shared with friends or family (eight participants) and housing provided as part of employment (one participant, a residential nanny). In these places, housing security was subject to the decisions of landlords and those with whom women shared their housing. All reported affordability problems. Participants were identified through fliers posted at local social services agencies and charities, as well as through snowballing. A $50 voucher was offered to recognize the substantial time and emotional commitment participants afforded the research. The research involved two phases. Phase 1 recruitment took place over several months at the end of 2016 and into 2017; Phase 2 recruitment took place from the end of 2018 into 2019. The purpose of Phase 1 was to record participants’ housing biographies since moving from their childhood home(s) to explore the diversity and intersections in housing pathways (Clapham 2002); Phase 2 was designed to interrogate key themes that emerged from the accounts in Phase 1. Interviews in each phase were up to 2 hours. In Phase 1, 23 women were prompted to detail their housing biography: 19 of these 23, who had experience of insecure housing, are considered in this paper. Interviews were semi-structured, starting with an open prompt question, such as “Can you tell me about the places you have lived since you first moved out of home”. These accounts were expanded through semi-structured questioning to probe experiences that emerged as central to women’s accounts, including searching, applying for and living in houses, and making home, experiences with landlords, housing affordability and managing budgets. Interviews were recorded and transcribed. Thematic coding of transcripts identified key themes emerging from women’s accounts and informed interviews in Phase 2.

Table 1. Participant overview.

Pseudonym	Age	Previous tenure	Current tenure	Income source	Interview round
Grace	55–59	Private rental	Private rental	Low wage	R1
Michelle	55–59	Home owner; private rental	Affordable	Disability support pension	R1
Robin	65–69	Public housing; home owner; private rental; homeless (sleeping on couch at daughters house)	Community	Aged pension	R1
Tess	65–69	Private rental	Private rental	Aged pension	R1
Julia	60–64	Home owner; private rental; Homeless (living in vehicle and couch surfing)	Public rental	Disability support pension	R1
Deborah	55–59	Private rental	Transitional	Disability support pension	R1
Jasmine	70–74	Residential nanny	Community	Aged pension	R1
Abigail	85–89	Private rental	Philanthropic	Aged pension	R1
Gemma	70–74	Home owner; private rental	Philanthropic	Aged pension	R1
Simone	65–69	Private rental	Affordable	Aged pension	R1
Lucy	55–59	Public rental; private rental	Public rental	Disability support pension	R1
Katrina	75–79	Home owner; private rental; homeless (living in vehicle)	Community	Aged pension	R1
Erin	65–69	Private rental; homeless	Transitional	Low wage	R1
Toni	60–64	Private rental	Private rental	Newstart/ low wage	R1
Tracey	65–69	Home owner; private rental	Private rental	Aged	R1
Phillipa	65–69	Private rental	Community	Aged	R1
Victoria	55–59	Home owner; private rental	Public rental	Disability support pension	R1
Liz	60–64	Private rental	Community	Disability support pension	R1
Sue	60–64	Private rental	Public rental	Disability support pension	R1
Harriet	65–69	Home owner; private rental	Share (family)	Carers pension/ low waged	R2
Alice	60–64	Private rental; share housing	Share (family)	Low wage	R2
Amy	55–59	Share housing (family); homeless (living in vehicle)	Community	Newstart	R2
Meg	65–69	Home owner; private rental	Private rental	Aged pension/ low waged	R2
Georgia	75–79	Home owner; private rental	Public rental	Aged pension	R2
Angela	70–74	Private rental; share housing	Public rental	Aged pension/ low waged	R2
Sarah	65–69	Home owner; private rental; share with family	Private rental	Aged pension	R2
Nicole	65–69	Private rental; shelter (family violence)	Public rental	Aged pension	R2
Jenny	65–69	Home owner/ property investor; Private rental	Private rental	Low wage	R2
Lauren	70–74	Private rental	Transitional	Aged pension	R2
Kylie	70–74	Home owner; Private rental	Private rental	Aged pension/ low waged	R2
Megan	60–64	Home owner; shared with family; private rental	Shelter (DV)	Disability support pension	R2
Eleanor	60–64	Private rental	Transitional	Newstart	R2
Gwen	60–64	Private rental; share housing	Private rental	Newstart	R2
Sophie	65–69	Private rental; homeless (living in vehicle)	Private rental	Disability support pension	R2
Lily	65–69	Home owner; caravan rental	Private rental	Aged pension	R2
Kelly	65–69	Private rental; share housing	Private rental	Low wage	R2
Rose	65–69	Private rental; public rental	Private rental	Carers pension	R2
Natalie	60–64	Home owner; private rental	Private rental	Low wage	R2

^aNewstart is now called JobSeeker. It is an unemployment benefit.

Twenty-three women took part in Phase 2: 19 of these 23, who had experience of insecure housing, are included in this paper. During this phase, participants briefly overviewed their housing biography across the lifecourse before a semi-structured interview focused around themes that emerged from Phase 1. These themes included: identifying and securing housing, making and moving homes, housing security and quality, managing tenancies, housing affordability and budget management. Interviews from Phases 1 and 2 were subsequently combined and thematic analysis undertaken across the combined data. Initial analysis was focused around themes that emerged as significant within women’s accounts. The broad concept and experience of ontological security was a subsequent theme that was identified by the research team through an iterative process of reflecting on interview data and related research literature. The first stage of coding identified practices and experiences connected with notions of ontological security. Subsequent coding worked within these data to thematically organize practices. Themes identified through that process organize the paper, reflecting emotion- and action-focused strategies (particularly tenancy practices and use of storage facilities). Two researchers were involved in conducting interviews. The lead researcher directed analysis for this paper, identifying key thematic concerns. Coding was discussed as it proceeded, with the lead researcher reviewing all interviews and coding decisions. Participant pseudonyms are used throughout this paper. Quotes included in the paper are emblematic of a broader theme unless otherwise indicated. Quotes from a range of participants are provided; however, a number of quotes from some participants are included to enable a fuller telling of the experiences and practices of ontological security.

Seeking Security

All participants reported deep feelings of insecurity driven by housing insecurity and related financial stress. All had experienced involuntary moves, including due to unaffordable rent increases and landlord decisions to repurpose rental properties. Those living with others faced upheaval when interpersonal relationships soured or those they were living with needed space. Having very low incomes, women were unsure if they would be able to secure alternative, affordable housing. For these women, housing provided few of the conditions that Dupuis and Thorns (1998) identify as a foundation for ontological security. Women described both emotion-focused and action-focused strategies for coping with the risks of persistent, long-term housing insecurity. Emotion-focused strategies saw women expressing feelings consistent with pragmatic acceptance, cynical pessimism and sustained optimism. Action-focused strategies included everyday practices that sought to address or change the conditions of risk (e.g. via tenancy practices), as well as those that reflected a pragmatic acceptance of insecurity (e.g. storing valued possessions). Frequently, participants employed multiple of these strategies.

Emotion-focused Strategies

Women mobilized various of the adaptive responses that Giddens (1990) identifies as ways of coping with threats to ontological security. The most common was pragmatic acceptance, a focus on “surviving” through “maintain[ing] a focus on day-to-day problems and tasks” (Giddens 1990, 135). Jenny endeavoured to “just forget about the emotional stuff”, while Lily described her ongoing worries but explained:

… I try and push it to the back of my mind because there’s no point worrying about it because that’s only making me unhappy now. If and when the day comes well that will be soon enough to worry. So I’ll just enjoy what I have for as long as I have it and worry about the future when the time comes.

Sarah described how housing insecurity over the last 20 years had left her physically exhausted. Her current move was “an out-of-body experience”; she could not make a home because she was renting and had needed to sell all her possessions when she had earlier moved into a friend’s home but:

I guess I sort of keep it all under. It’s sort of - if I let go, I think - I’m sort of a bit scared what would happen. So I try and keep everything under control. But when I have days, I call them pyjama days and I don’t fight it. I used to get upset but I thought, no, because I’ll get dressed probably tomorrow or the next day. It will pass.

Sarah accepted the need to live with insecurity. She was optimistic, however, in imagining a future when she might find more permanent housing and buy her own furniture.

Others responded with cynical pessimism. Alice described herself as follows:

a kind of postmodern bag lady. I have a lot of bags, and I don’t even think they’re very nice bags. Maybe I’d feel better if I bought some nicer bags to put all my rags in.

Natalie explained, “I look at it – you could look at it as, ‘Oh, it’s a new beginning’. But to get a new beginning you have to go through a horrible period to get there”. These responses were common. They reflect the necessity of mentally accommodating a housing system that offers few pathways to security.

Action-focused Strategies

In addition to mentally accommodating to conditions of insecurity, women also actively sought to buffer their feelings of security. Dupuis and Thorns (1998 and above) observed how the search for ontological security is “shaped and constrained by the particular framework or setting in which it occurs”. The women in this research actively sought to rework the conditions of rental risk. Understanding the limits of legal tenure security, they worked to build trust with housing gatekeepers (see “Tenancy practices, making and securing home”). They also sought to hold on to the conditions of the home through storing important personal items during periods of housing uncertainty (see Storage facilities and valued possessions). However, these practices were not straightforward, often precipitating broader, intersecting insecurities such as budget crises and, paradoxically in the case of tenancy practices, risk of rising rent or declining property quality. Emerging from these accounts is an intertwining of what Berlant (2011) describes as “cruel optimism” and impasse, where desire for the security and reliability of home becomes equally an obstacle to flourishing (see Ontological security: a cruel optimism for low-income renters?).

Tenancy Practices, Making and Securing Home

Property stewardship was a central way that women sought security: it meant pleasing the landlord through being a “good tenant” to increase the likelihood of future lease renewal. The idea of the “good tenant” emerged organically from within women’s accounts of living and maintaining tenancies in the rental sector, as well as being consistent with broader research on the moral practices of renting and homemaking (Bate 2021; Cheshire et al. 2009; Saugeres 2000; Power and Gillon 2020). Property stewardship included reporting repairs and taking care of the property “as though it was their own”. Participants like Grace and Tess argued for the mutual benefit of property stewardship to landlords and tenants. Grace, for instance, explained how reporting an ant infestation led to the discovery of white ants. Not only was her kitchen now more inhabitable, “I seemed to save the landlord their property”. Tess similarly explained the importance of reporting repairs before they became too serious: “the eave or whatever [unclear], and [if I do not report it and] it falls down, [the landlord is] going to have to pay more to have it replaced than have it repaired”. Many, like Toni, sought permission to hang pictures, while others like Natalie undertook minor property modifications (with permission) including gardening, painting and changing curtains to personalize the space. Natalie emphasized the importance of making it “feel like you’re living in your own place”. In previous properties, she had been occasionally late in paying rent, which landlords did not like but “sort of understood” because they saw her as an otherwise good tenant.

Paying rent on time was interrelated with property stewardship. While both are legally required and expected of all renters, they have additional resonance within analyses of ontological security in the rental sector as practices through which vulnerable renters seek to differentiate themselves with the landlord as a “trustworthy” and “reliable” tenant, with the hope this will be reciprocated through future property rights (i.e. lease renewal). The context of these practices is broader cultural framing around renters in terms of risk. As Power and Gillon (2020) point out, there is a pervasive discourse in homeowner societies that renters are less responsible than homeowners. However, renters are not seen as uniformly risky, “instead, gradations of risk and responsibility inform evaluations”. (Power and Gillon 2020, 4). The ability to pay and care for properties is one risk evaluation that takes place during tenant selection, and these same characteristics are drawn into consideration when landlords provide references for future properties. Household characteristics are also important, with evidence that some households, including those that include people with disabilities or who receive welfare (characteristics that were common amongst participants in this research), are more likely to be classified in terms of risk (Hulse, Milligan, and Easthope 2011; Power and Gillon 2020). In the absence of income security, older low-income women foreground the need to overtly position themselves as reliable and responsible, challenging their normative positioning in terms of risk.

In this context, property stewardship and paying rent on time resonate with Giddens (1990) description of how individuals seek to demonstrate their trustworthiness at access points to abstract systems. Landlords and managing agents are critical gatekeepers, accounting for substantial elements of the de facto security and insecurity, of rental housing. Jenny explained the theory:

Well, I just do a property as if it was my own. And I like to think that if I put in that bit of extra effort, people will let me stay there.

Toni similarly explained how she was dressed in “professional attire” when attending property inspections and asked for permission to hang “precious oil paintings”. She saw this as a way of aligning herself with the middle-class norms of property stewardship. Rental agents appeared to respond positively to the performance, including an instance where she was offered a property that was well out of her price range.

Women who were able to broach more personal and trusting relationships with landlords typically felt more secure. Natalie, for example, explained how strong relationships with landlords had smoothed over occasional late rent, while Sophie had lived in her rental for 15 years and was paying less rent than the landlord’s other tenants. The landlord understood her tenuous financial position, and she helped the landlord through taking care of the property. She described him as “really, really understanding”, “fantastic” and “wonderful”, and it was evident that she experienced deep feelings of security through this relationship. Despite their tenuous position in the housing system, women able to broach these trusting relationships experienced greater continuity and reliability in housing – and a sense of home.

Storage Facilities and Valued Possessions: Maintaining Home, Routine and Sense of Self

Despite efforts to secure their housing through tenancy practices, involuntary moves were the reality for most participants. This section reports on how women sought to buffer feelings of security when relocating. Unable to achieve a home within a single dwelling, women put greater weight on mobile possessions (cf. Bate 2021): establishing a sense of home rapidly after moving and using storage facilities to retain possessions during periods of housing insecurity were important. These practices overlap with the emotion-focused strategies set out earlier, representing a form of pragmatic acceptance. Storing and relocating valued possessions was a practical way for women to re-establish or hold on to feelings of security in the context of housing insecurity. Discussions about storage emerged when women discussed experiences of home and moving house.

Research clearly establishes the importance of personal items and furnishings in establishing a sense of self and home (Blunt and Dowling 2006; Gorman-Murray 2007) and through these connections with ontological security (Dupuis and Thorns 1998). However, for women in this research, managing items across extended periods of housing uncertainty was challenging. It is expensive and time-consuming to move, and becomes more so when there are more items to relocate. Many women were forced to downsize possessions to minimize moving costs, to manage periods of homelessness, or the necessity of moving into a smaller house (common in the context of a rising housing market). Downsizing possessions ruptured women’s sense of control and the continuity of self-identity:

That was pretty hard because I used to do up old furniture. So it became a matter of priorities what you’re going to need the most is what you keep. I think probably it would be the same situation as somebody whose house caught fire or who’d had a flood, only you don’t get a choice. Stuff just goes. That’s what this felt like. There’s no choice. You can’t take it, you can only take a few things, a certain amount. (Michelle)

I didn’t want to get rid of some of the furniture. It sounds silly but one belonged to my grandparents but I went, “I can’t put it anywhere”. Yeah, it is, it’s a tough thing. And getting down to like – as much as it’s nice to be minimalist, it’d be nice also just to have the space to have a bit more things you like. All my little special artworks or, you know, ornaments or treasures are all in boxes, you know, so I don’t get to see them. So, yeah, there are things that, yeah, you have to make compromises in order to fit in there”. (Kerry)

You’ve got no choice. You’re parting with things that – well, everything you’ve got together are part of your belongings and part of who you are and who you’ve established yourself to be. I don’t want to sound like everything revolves around what you own and everything, but it’s part of your home. And what – you’ve got to be comfortable in your surroundings. And you surround yourself with those sort of things. (Jenny)

Having downsized, Alice put it most simply: “I live this life where I don’t ever have to show what my tastes are because I don’t really have anything”.

Faced with this stress, women sought to buffer their future security by managing possessions differently. Long-term storage facilities are a vital resource and strategy through which they can retain control over important possessions. Some used commercial storage facilities, while others were able to store items with friends and family. In research with three women who were moving between houses or living in temporary houses while working away from home, Owen (2020) identifies the value of storage facilities for storing “objects that are required to bridge individuals between different circumstances, particularly those where futures are uncertain and/or the place of things must be negotiated”. Women in that research particularly spoke of their capacity to keep items that were connected to their senses of self and home, including significant personal objects and furnishings required to establish a home. While participants in Owen’s research were not income or housing insecure, there are resonances with the experiences of women in the present research.

Women typically store three types of items. The first set were documents such as income records and tax statements that are required to participate in society, including to prove one’s identity when accessing “abstract systems” like state welfare or housing (cf. Giddens 1991). Loss or damage to these items can make it difficult to complete many tasks, including applying for housing and accessing government income support. Storage facilities offer a secure and weatherproof location to retain such materials during periods of housing uncertainty. The second were furnishings that are important for the functioning of a house as a home. These included beds, kitchen or dining tables, lounge sets and key appliances like fridges. They are functional items necessary for the establishment of a sense of home and comfort. They are also the material foundation of the routines of everyday life, from cooking to cleaning, self-care and relaxation. These items structure routine activity, making a direct link with ontological security. Poverty increased the importance of retaining these items; as Lily explained, few could afford to replace possessions that were downsized. Furnishings also represent style and taste to others who visit the house and through this connect with identity. In the absence of a secure house, these items become the “secure base around which identities are constructed” (Dupuis and Thorns 1998, 29). Alice’s lament that she lived a life where she didn’t “have to show what my tastes are because I don’t really have anything” speaks to their absence.

The third type of stored items was personal items. These ranged from decorative pieces like pictures and ornaments through to items that were essential for hobbies. These were valued for “narrating the self” through home. For example, Julia understands herself as a person who “gives back to society” through volunteering. She is also a “crafty” person. One of her social contributions combines these identities: making blankets and other items for people in need. While homeless for an extended period, sleeping in her car, she stored this “crafty stuff” at a friend’s house. She also stored certificates and photographs recognizing her contributions, which she immediately recovered and prominently displayed when she gained secure public housing (in the month before she took part in the research). Pam similarly kept tools for a long-standing hobby in her storage unit. Retaining these items helped connect her with her identity as a creative person and community builder. Robin’s new secure home in social housing is full of shelves housing small ornaments. This has been built up over a lifetime and narrates her memories and connections to her family. She performs that connection through a weekly routine of dusting. Carefully picking up and wiping each item, Robin reflects on the person or memory associated with it. She has items collected on holidays, objects gifted from family and friends and toys her grandchildren have outgrown. These items were in storage during an extended period of homelessness when she slept on a couch at her daughter’s house.

Some furnishings and personal items were also valued for their connection with families, such as Kerry’s that belonged to her grandparents (above) or Pam’s chest of drawers:

Yeah, there’s one thing of value, and that is a chest of drawers - an uncomplicated but very nice chest of drawers that belonged to my mother’s grandmother. It doesn’t actually belong to me. It’s like I’m keeping it in trust for the family - the rest of the family - except nobody particularly wants it, yet - but I don’t feel like I can let it go. I quite like it.

Pam did not have a permanent residence but moved between the two houses on a semi-regular basis. She explained that neither house felt like a home because a home is “like putting down roots and knowing where I belong, […] where I can leave my things – where they’re not causing a problem to anyone else”. In the absence of a house that offered this, Pam retained important items, like these drawers, in a storage unit. Sophie’s storage unit similarly enabled her as a custodian for her children’s family history, keeping items from her mother that would be her children’s:

It’s my children’s heritage there. I would have given it up years ago otherwise. I don’t want everything. I don’t probably want half the stuff out of the storage, but there are valuable things in there that belonged to my mum that are for my children and apart from that, you know, I don’t give a shit. Get rid of that, I’ll be happy.

These types of items perform a connection with the family, narrating a stable identity and sense of belonging (in this case within a familial structure) that is an important aspect of ontological security.

Storage was used at key moments in the housing process. Its first role was crisis management. Storage was most frequently used when women were forced to move suddenly and were unable to readily secure a new house. It was also used when women anticipated periods of extended housing insecurity, such as when they were about to become homeless. Storage enabled women retain important possessions across these periods. If and when they secure a new house, these items can be moved in and help to rapidly establish a sense of self and home by personalizing the dwelling. Amy stored most of her possessions in a storage facility, while she lived in her car for 12-months. She regularly visited the storage facility during this period for up to 4 hours at a time. Recently housed in a secure social housing unit, she had begun to bring those items home. This house was in a new and unfamiliar area, and she explained how bringing her items here “and see it visually, and see it all, it makes me feel better. Because I can connect with it”. She described her possessions as follows:

part of the family. […] It’s a psychological thing. […] So when I look at everything, I remind myself that look, this was what I had for years and years and years. […] Yeah, this is me. This is part of my nest building. These are the building blocks. And they are all mine.

Amy’s quote evocatively captures how the storage unit enabled a sense of connection and security of being, through maintaining continuity and endurance of self over time, and across periods of housing stress.

The second value of storage was providing a temporal buffer against the need to downsize when a sudden move into a smaller dwelling was anticipated. Women would store their important possessions for a period, thereby “buying” time to work out which items to keep and what they would need to shed. This was a strategy that supported pragmatic acceptance of loss. Kerry, for example, described how this temporal buffer enabled her to emotionally manage the loss of valued items. She described her most recent move:

It was as horrible as all the rest. And it was this time because I was fitting into the tiniest space so it was just, “Off to the storage room, off to the storage room,” because I didn’t have time to clear it, to go through it and I’m only just doing that now. And the thought of moving just freaks me out. It’s horrible. […] And that’s the other thing, my piano that I’ve had all my life, finally, I’ve just had to give that away to somebody. And I had hoped to have room but I can’t keep it. It’s just things like that where you go, “Oh, I’ll give that one up”. Anyway - It’s just there and I know within the next couple of months, once the piano goes, I’ll sort through it and I will no longer need – I will have managed to detach myself from all the things in there.

Storage helped Kerry to emotionally detach from some items, and she used this to manage the distress of moving and downsizing. Owen (2020) similarly reports on participants emotionally detaching from stored objects over time, leading to later disposal. While for Owen’s participant, detachment was incidental and surprising, for older women in this research it was an important way of emotionally coping with loss. For Kerry, this was not an easy process. It took 2 years until she felt able to sort through and dispose of her items. Julia described a similar process. She rationalized that she had not used many of the items she held in storage “for a while, so I gave it to the op shops”. Holding key items in storage helped to hold on to feelings of security during times of insecurity, while the emotional distance created through extended storage reduced threats to insecurity across time.

Ontological Security: A Cruel Optimism for low-income Renters?

This paper focuses on the practices through which low-income women seek to hold on to or restore ontological security in the context of housing insecurity. The focus so far has been on the benefits of these practices. However, they frequently also had a dark side, as this section goes on to explore. This dark side, leaving women in deeper financial stress and experiencing new dimensions of housing insecurity, suggests that in the context of structural housing insecurity ontological security might operate as what Berlant would term a “cruel optimism”. In their book of the same title, Berlant (2011, 1) explains, “A relation of cruel optimism exists when something you desire is actually an obstacle to your flourishing”. Using this idea in the context of older women’s search for ontological security captures the way that women’s efforts to secure themselves never fully resolved the crisis, while also simultaneously relocating and intensifying crisis in other aspects of life.

First, women’s efforts to secure themselves and their home via tenancy practices and storage facilities frequently precipitated financial crises. Prioritizing rent is necessary and legally required in order to ensure housing security; for low-income renters it is made even more necessary to challenge discourses of risk that surround this group. However, in practice, it intensified everyday poverty: after paying rent some women reported insufficient money to afford necessities like food and utility bills, while most were unable to afford non-essential items, including social activities. The majority were unable to save. Consequently, women changed how they lived to sustain rent. Common practices included limiting use of heating and cooling, cutting down on food, buying foods that were discounted, cutting down meat consumption and relying on local charities. Survival practices turned reflexively onto the self. Toni explained, “I guess in the last 18 months it’s been more about keeping fit to keep the heating bill down. [.] I just find then I mightn’t feel – I can leave the heater off for another couple of hours if possible”. Tracey similarly explained, “you just don’t put the heating on”. In periods, when she had particular financial challenges, she would turn her hot water system off when she went out. Sophie limited her electricity use by cooking every second day, “I don’t iron. My damn washing machine doesn’t go. I haven’t got an electric heater. I don’t have a fan up here. I don’t have air conditioning”, yet still struggled with her bills. She cut down on food to meet these expenses and consequently lost weight. Morris (2007, 2009) and Colic-Peisker, Ong, and Wood (2015) describe similar practices in their work with low-income renters (and see Power 2020b). While they emphasize these practices as outcomes of an affordability crisis, they are also relevant within an analysis of ontological security. In this context, they show the deep vulnerability of those negotiating insecure housing, able to only broach greater security and control through practices that engender ongoing harms to self and home.

Storage fees have also undermined financial security. For a number of women, this was a particular concern. Living on already-limited budgets, women described storage costs that consumed a significant proportion of their weekly income, adding to the costs of moving and the background financial stress that women already experienced. For Lily, storage costs of $130 a month accounted for approximately 7.5% of her weekly income. Lauren paid $154 a month (or approximately 9% of her income), receiving a discount because she knew the owner. Amy explained that the ongoing cost of her storage units is “bleeding me dry”, while Sophie asked

can you go into a café after you’ve done work all day and have a cup of coffee? Well, I can’t. Can you buy – do you see any fruit in my house? [Interviewer: I don’t, no.] There’s no fruit. Because I can’t afford to buy it. You know, I might be lucky to buy – I buy one apple, one orange, two bananas for a fortnight. That is it because my budget is that tight. That’s when I’ve got money, but this week I haven’t even got that because I’ve had to pay extra on the storage shed because the storage shed didn’t come out last fortnight because of the doctors and the fortnight before that because of the bloody pension got switched off and it took me two weeks to put it back on and then all my debits come out, the bank took $220 a week before for direct debits that weren’t paid.

A number of women, including Lauren, Deborah and Amy, reported that financial counsellors and case workers encouraged them to get rid of their storage to reduce their weekly costs. For women themselves, this was rarely a practical or emotionally viable solution. The deep insecurity of their housing amplified the importance of these possessions, which could be moved between homes, establishing a sense of familiarity, routine, and continuity of self that are foundational elements of ontological security.

The second set of risks were connected with property stewardship, which brought paradoxical consequences for housing insecurity, like rent increases and eviction. Tracey, for example, experienced an unaffordable 22% rent increase after a leak in her rental was repaired 2 years after it was first reported, while Gwen discussed a mould problem with her landlady and “she said to me if I didn’t like it, I could move”. Aware of these risks, some reported only the most urgent repairs (such as leaks and water damage). For example, Lily lived without an oven, while Sophie lived with leaking taps in the bathroom and a broken screen door. She explained, “You’re too scared to ask your landlord to fix your house up because you’re scared he’s gonna say oh well, if I do that I’m gonna have to put your rent up. So, I don’t”. Liz had previously rented from the private market and explained, “you don’t really want to make waves too much in case they think, stuff it. We’ll just put it on the market”. For these women, accepting substandard housing conditions both risked feelings of security and paradoxically enabled a deeper sense of security and control.

Discussion and Conclusion

Ontological security is a basic need that people actively seek out and work to maintain, restore and secure (Giddens 1976, 117). Yet while research establishes that insecure housing is connected with loss of ontological security, little is known of how those who are insecurely housed seek out or seek to restore ontological security while remaining in insecure housing contexts. Identifying and conceptualizing these practices has been the focus of this paper. Focused on single older women living in insecure housing, the paper has identified intersecting practices through which this group seeks ontological security. These include emotion- and action-focused strategies, the latter incorporating tenancy and home-making practices.

Participants in the research revealed three of the emotion-focused adaptive responses that Giddens identifies in his early work as ways of coping with risk, expressing pragmatic acceptance, sustained optimism and cynical pessimism. These responses witnessed new ways of framing and understanding housing insecurity and its possible futures, in order to cope; they saw women acknowledging powerlessness within the structure of a housing system that offers few pathways to security for those living on low incomes in later life. Identification of these strategies is a new contribution to analyses of ontological security in housing.

Women also performed action-focused strategies, engaging directly with the conditions of rental housing risk via tenancy practices, including property stewardship and paying rent on time. While these are required within tenancy contracts and have been previously identified in research on housing insecurity, in this paper they are newly conceptualized as strategies for bridging trust with system gatekeepers, building from Giddens’s (1991) analysis of how trust is brokered in accessing abstract systems that are the foundations of ontological security. This is perhaps more significant for low-income renters, who, as Power and Gillon (2020, 6) point out, “have fewer options [than high-income renters] for alternative housing if a tenancy fails or is not renewed”. Through investing in these relations, women felt that they secured an increased likelihood of future lease renewals, minimized rent increases, and smoothed over possible future indiscretions, such as occasionally paying rent late. The few women able to broach these connections expressed greater feelings of security and control over their lives and housing futures than those who had not.

An interrelated action-focused strategy saw women seek to buffer ontological security across periods of housing insecurity by storing key possessions. Regardless of other efforts to secure housing, most pragmatically expected and accepted the likelihood of future relocation. Storage has created a temporal buffer, enabling women to retain important items during periods of housing uncertainty. Through storage, women could secure future homes as places for day-to-day routines, retaining items that were core to their everyday homemaking practices. Storage also underpinned the continuity of identity. This speaks to the enhanced significance of mobile possessions for those living less spatially fixed lives (cf. Bate 2021) and who are less able than homeowners to locate their identity in a fixed abode.

As house prices grow internationally and growing numbers face housing insecurity, it is pertinent to understand more of the practices through which individuals seek security and to reflect on what these practices reveal. What emerges in this paper is the depth and pervasiveness of insecurity, alongside the minimal agency and control afforded to those living in these circumstances. This insecurity exceeds housing, touching also on senses of belonging, control, connection and continuity of self. To cope, participants were forced to either mentally adjusts to living with insecurity or to engage in a series of practices, from tenancy practices through to storage that engendered further risks. Living in a system in which tenure insecurity is a central logic and landlord interests are empowered over the right of tenants to make a home, efforts to achieve security turned in two directions: inwards, as women reworked individual ways of living and making home, and outwards, as women sought relationships of trust with property gatekeepers. In turn, these practices exposed women to escalating risks. Domestic adjustments made to pay rent brought short-term security, but also more deeply undermined the continuity of homes by driving women into substandard properties and making them subject to the decisions and whims of often ambivalent and sometimes negligent landlords. They also deepened financial precarity, alongside risks to health and wellbeing. The “cruel optimism” of home as a space of belonging and control is clear in women’s accounts. There are also resonances of what Berlant terms “impasse”. This concept describes circumstances “induced by crisis, [where] being treads water; mainly, it does not drown” (Berlant 2011, 10). Impasse speaks to survival in the context of crisis, recognizing those in crisis as “living beings figuring out how to stay attached to life from within it, and to protect what optimism they have for that, at least” (Berlant 2011, 10).

Although the gendering of domestic practices was not a focus of the research, it is likely that the practices described in this paper reflect gendered dimensions of insecurity and impasse. The structural and gendered drivers of single older women’s housing and income insecurity were noted at the start. This demographic is often described as “hidden homeless” for the way that they more often couch surf, live with friends and family or inhabit substandard conditions at the edge of the rental market, as opposed to occupying the more dangerous and visible spaces of street homelessness. In Australia, there is little targeted homeless support for this less visible group (though recognition has grown rapidly in recent years). Facing housing insecurity and homelessness for the first time in later life, this group also reports less knowledge and greater stigma accessing the homelessness support sector. At the same time, gendered experiences of domestic labour across the lifecourse, including managing domestic budgets and home-making, perhaps prime women for the sorts of less visible and home-focused practices detailed in this paper.

More optimistically, and alongside the deep precariousness of women’s housing situations, this paper also points to some moments of light. Key amongst these is the few landlords who seemingly recognized the need for housing and who mobilized their advantaged position in the housing system to allow that for one person. These landlords suggest a different set of ethics and concerns that might animate housing, where care and the need for housing are placed ahead of profit, and where home and ontological security are universally within reach. Presently, such security is predominantly found within the residualised public and not-for-profit housing sectors. Advocating for greater social housing supply is a core business for researchers working with the marginally housed and yet continues to find little traction in housing systems organized through investment logic (Jacobs 2015). Meanwhile, reinvigorating questions about the commensurability of housing markets and care and how these ethics and practices might productively combine seem key (cf. Smith 2005; Power and Mee 2020). Future work might productively work to identify instances of hope within these systems: to find out what motivates and sustains them and opportunities for broader uptake, while we continue working towards structural change. Such work must be alert to the politics and ethics of care, including care that is paternalistic, oppressive or exploitative (Tronto 2013).

Ethics Approval

Ethics approval for this research was granted by the Western Sydney University Human Research Ethics Committee. Approval H11557.

Acknowledgments

I am grateful to the women who shared their experiences of housing insecurity for this research. I hope that I have done justice to your experiences and that this work might contribute to generating further conversation around the need for housing reform. I am especially grateful to Dr Charlie Gillon, Postdoctoral Research Assistant for this project.

Disclosure Statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Additional information

Funding

This research was funded by the Australian Research Council DECRA Fellowship DE150100861.

Notes

1. At the time of the research, the Aged Pension eligibility age was 65 and over, while JobSeeker (then called Newstart) was for people experiencing unemployment aged under 65 years. The Aged Pension eligibility rate has increased since that date. Depending on year of birth, recipients must be either 66 years and 6 months or 67 years of age (Services Australia 2021).