Why We Need YIMBYism, and the Dangers of the Word ‘But’
- Igraine Gray
- Apr 24
- 4 min read
Co-founder of Whole Nation Conservatives Igraine Gray is a Conservative activist and former council candidate, writer, published author and rehabilitated rough sleeper. Prior to the 2024 General Election she was Policy Assistant to Sir Simon Clarke.
“Everything before the word ‘but’ is horsesh*t.” So says Jon Snow in Game of Thrones, with typical candour. And, despite the expletive, he has a point. The English language offers few words as disarmingly disingenuous as but. It’s the verbal equivalent of a stiff handshake followed by a kick in the shins - an implied agreement instantly undermined by a swift pivot into contradiction. And nowhere is the linguistic sleight of hand more damaging than in the debate about Britain's housing crisis.
Conservative YIMBYism, Yes In My Back Yard for those not in the know, is no longer the lonely cause of eccentric libertarians and the more radical reaches of think tanks. It is becoming the moral and economic imperative of anyone serious about Britain’s future. It is a spirited campaign rooted in the belief that a pro-growth, pro-family Conservatism must mean building. Dispelling the myths of NIMBY obstructionists, it rallies a new coalition: young aspirants, urban reformers, communitarians and free marketeers. This is not concrete brutalism, but a rebirth of place. Tradition renewed by dynamism, communities revived by confidence, and homes delivered by will, not whim. It has had its assiduous champions in the party for a not insignificant amount of time. Yet time and again, we hear: “Of course we need to build more houses… but—”
This but, this dangerous lingering hesitation, is the moment at which political will dissipates. And it’s a hesitation we cannot afford.
Britain’s housing shortage is not some mild inconvenience for those looking to upgrade to a garden in Surrey. It is an economic, social and generational crisis. According to the Centre for Cities, the UK has a backlog of 4.3 million homes (1). Decades of underbuilding have inflated prices, locked young people of out of homeownership, and exacerbated inequality. It is clear from the English Housing Survey, that homeownership among 25-34 year olds has plummeted from 59% in 2003 to just 41% in 2020 (2), and the slight uptick since 2020 is not statistically significant. We are failing entire generations.
More than that, we are throttling growth. A 2024 report from the Adam Smith Institute found planning restrictions on height, width and density are costing the UK up to 6.1% of GDP, worth around £138.5bn (3). If you want a dynamic economy, where people can move to areas with opportunity, or stay within their community creating opportunity, start families and start businesses, you need homes and infrastructure.And if you want lower energy bills, you need new nuclear reactors, new renewables, grid upgrades, and energy-efficient housing. If you want to protect the environment in its truest sense, preventing suburban sprawl and long-distance commuting, then building densely and beautifully in cities is the answer. Along, of course, with redefining the green belt to the actual environment worth preserving, not the bloated, sickly thing it has become. Building more homes doesn’t just make economic sense. It is an act of national renewal.
However, we must be honest: the housing crisis does not exist in a vacuum. It collides with other crises. Our infrastructure is strained, our demographic balance is shifting rapidly, and immigration levels are higher than ever. The Office for National Statistics estimates a net migration figure of 866,000 in 2023 alone (4). These are pressures that rightly worry many voters. If we build homes without simultaneously investing in hospitals, roads, and schools, resentment will fester. If we fail to control immigration, any gains from housebuilding risk being swamped by new demand. If we build ugly soulless boxes, dreary and deprived cul-de-sacs without services or civic pride, we will deepen the alienation that already fuels a creeping national pessimism.
But here, again, comes the danger of that seductive but.
Because too often these concerns, valid and urgent in their own right, are weaponised as reasons to do nothing. “We need to build more houses… but only once we’ve reformed access to mortgages, built a high-speed rail network, planted new forests, restored high streets, and ensured net zero immigration.” If we waited for all conditions to be perfect before we acted, human progress would grind to a halt. We would even decline to be born. If we waited for the roads to be empty before building more housing, or for schools to be undersubscribed before welcoming families, we would do precisely nothing - and that is, all too often, what we have done.
The but here is not a reasoned qualification. It’s a retreat. It’s a comfort blanket for political cowardice, a way to kick the can further down the potholed road. The truth is we must do all these things and build houses. YIMBYism means yes to building everything we need. Housing, and energy, transport and community infrastructure. Beauty must be a standard, not an afterthought. Immigration must be brought down to sustainable levels. These are not rival goods, they are a part of the same vision: the British Dream.
Indeed, this is the insight offered by Onward (5) and the Centre for Policy Studies (6) alike: that we need a joined-up conservatism, one that believes in growth and order, opportunity and belonging. We cannot afford to choose between prosperity and identity, because we will lose both.
So let us be selective in our use of but. Let us no longer say, “We need more houses, but…” and instead declare, “We need more houses and we must do all these things to make housebuilding succeed.” In a country that has built too little for too long, hesitation is our real enemy. The crisis is not just in brick and mortar, but in the failure of will.
Britain doesn’t need more buts. It needs more homes. Let’s start building. Beautifully, boldly, and bountifully.
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