Many at university know Christopher* but no one knows he was homeless over the summer.
Kicked out by an ex-girlfriend, Christopher, 23, left his flat in Edinburgh, living in a perpetual state of couch-surfing for months. During this period of homelessness, he lost more than 17lbs and struggled to get by, sleeping on couches in the flats of strangers, co-workers, and peers.
I was picking up shifts at work just so I could get the free food. I was asking in the kitchen if I could take plate scraps at one point, cause I hadn’t eaten properly in a couple of days, and I needed to eat something.
This isn’t as uncommon a story as you might think: 12% of students in Scotland experience homelessness during their studies, which is a higher rate than the general population. This doesn’t include countless more sofa-surfers who don’t fit neatly within the margins of reports.
The Scottish Government’s annual statistics bulletin on homelessness has only one category for couch-surfing in their ‘equalities table’, which tracks what type of household homeless applicants have left.
The category is called ‘long-term couch-surfing’. This is a problem, as young people like Christopher aren’t considered couch-surfers in reports unless they have been homeless for a period of six months or more.
A response to my freedom of information request* revealed that all homelessness applications coming from people experiencing short couch-surfing periods are categorised under the property type of “friends/partners”. Furthermore, the Scottish government does not track student status in its data on homelessness.
As a result, there is no way to accurately measure how many students are using homelessness services, leaving a major evidence gap in assessing the real extent of the student housing crisis. It’s an almost invisible problem.
Christopher told me he found it harder to get help as a couch-surfer.
“When you don’t have a place that you feel comfortable, it takes a tax on you. I wasn’t sleeping properly, I wasn’t eating properly, I couldn’t have simple luxuries.”
“Yeah, I’m under a roof, but it’s not my roof. You feel like a second-class citizen. People just don’t understand couch surfing is a form of homelessness.” He added.
Staying in strangers’ flats, with none of the rights or protection that comes with legal tenancy rights, puts couch-surfers in difficult and sometimes dangerous positions where they sometimes face harassment and, in some cases, even ‘sex for rent’ situations, which are reportedly on the rise.
Christopher said he experienced some hostility from his hosts at different points of his couch-surfing time, facing threats of being kicked out with no notice. In one of the homes, he stayed at, he slept on a couch in a small kitchen, which had a mouse infestation.
“People are doing this out of the kindness of their hearts, but they can also take advantage of you, cause they’re doing something for you. There’s a power dynamic.”
Research shows that couch surfers often feel shame about their living conditions and are more likely to become isolated from friends and family. This makes the data issue worse, as young people are less likely to reach out for help or register themselves as homeless.
Despite the overwhelming presence of student housing in Scotland’s largest cities, there is actually a shortage of space, due to rising student numbers, and an oversupply of luxury accommodation. In fact, current numbers show that there is a shortfall of nearly 14,000 bedspaces in Edinburgh.
As higher education costs more students are being pushed into unstable accommodation spaces and couch-surfing, especially as average rent costs have risen by over 34%.
The effect of couch-surfing on physical and mental health can be severe. Many couch-surfers quit courses and training due to complications with their living situation.
Christopher says he’s still struggling to keep up with his university workload following his couch-surfing period, which ended in late September, as his classes started. The fallout from his time couch surfing has affected his studies deeply.
“I’m behind on work. My mental health is really bad. I’m about to start taking antidepressants cause it’s just been that bad. It’s like the replica effect. Even though I don’t live in that environment anymore, I’m still struggling and suffering the consequences of all of that.”
“I’m not in the right headspace to want to pick up a book and study. I’ve been trying to survive, and that changes your brain. It’s a total sweatshop.”
Homelessness figures are not decreasing in tandem. The latest figures show that use of temporary accommodation and open homelessness applications are both growing. Rough sleeping has increased by 111% in the last five years.
As accommodation prices increase and record numbers of students enroll in university each year, homelessness is a genuine threat to thousands of young people in Scotland, but it’s not being recorded accurately.
Faced with estrangement from parents, a lack of both life experience and knowledge of their own rights, students are more vulnerable and less aware of how to get help.
To properly address this issue, the Scottish Government must start taking student homelessness seriously by actively tracking student status in its reports and improving the classification of couch-surfing homelessness, beyond the ‘six-month’ category.
Otherwise, more students like Christopher will continue to fall through the cracks.
*Not his real name.
*Full FOI response copy is available on request.
