Fatima Payman (WA, Australia's Voice) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

Two weeks ago, I spent the day at the University of Western Australia's O day. If you've ever been to O day, you know the energy—stalls everywhere, clubs recruiting, students with tote bags and big dreams. It reminds you of what hope and possibility feel like. But, behind the excitement, I kept hearing something else: worry. It was not about exams or which majors they were going to choose but about housing. A nursing student said to me, 'Senator, I just want to know if I'll ever be able to buy a house.' A law student told me he's already assuming he'll rent for the rest of his life. Another said she's thinking of moving back with her parents, studying part time and taking up another job just to cover her daily expenses.

Now, these are not young people looking for shortcuts or handouts. They're working hard, they're studying and they're planning their futures, but they're looking at a housing market that feels completely out of reach. Right now, the median home in Perth is just over $989,000. That's almost a million dollars. Tell me which student can afford that.

In January alone, prices jumped by more than $22,500. That's around $5,000 a week. According to Cotality, home values in WA are rising about 10 times faster than wages. You can do everything right—study, work and save—and still watch the goalposts move further away every single month. Data from the Real Estate Institute of WA shows units are selling in seven days, houses in eight and listings are nearly 44 per cent lower than this time last year. People are feeling rushed and pressured as though, if they don't jump in now, they will miss out forever.

Western Australia cannot simply build its way out of this housing crisis. Economist Gary Stevenson, a former Citibank trader and now known as the people's economist, makes this point clearly. He argues this isn't just about local planning, rules or state red tape. We've experienced a global asset boom. During COVID, trillions of dollars were pumped into economies. That money made its way upwards into the hands of those who already held the most wealth, and much of it was invested in assets, property, shares, stocks and gold. While wages move slowly, asset prices surge, and that's why homeownership feels impossible for so many Australians.

Of course, supply matters, and, of course, we need more homes to be built, but, if we ignore the deeper issue of inequality, we risk creating two Australias—wealthy inner pockets and struggling outer suburbs missing out on services and opportunities. If we don't look at tax settings like negative gearing and the capital gains tax discount, then we're just patching over cracks. 'What is negative gearing?' I hear you ask. In plain English, negative gearing means if someone buys an investment property and the rent doesn't cover the mortgage and costs, they can deduct the loss from their taxable income. If a high-income earner loses $10,000 a year on a rental property, they can use that loss to reduce the tax they pay on their salary. In effect, the taxpayer helps subsidise that investment. The investor may accept a short-term loss because they expect the property to rise in value, and, when they sell, they receive the capital gains tax discount—bonus, bonus! While first home buyers are trying to save a deposit, they're competing with someone who has both a tax advantage and a greater borrowing power.

Some people will accuse me of punishing success, but, deep down, they know we should be asking whether our housing system is tilted too heavily towards speculation over shelter. At UWA, these students were asking the tough questions, so let's have an honest conversation about the inequality. Let's show the courage to limit negative gearing and half the capital gains tax discount and give every day Australians a fair go.