I peruse for sale property descriptions as an alternative to watching 1980-era sitcom reruns on Antenna TV. An array of statements compiled from current local listings:
“A slice of Heaven.” “This house couldn’t be more perfect.” “Timeless.” “Feels very spacious.” “Rare find.” “Won’t last.” “Brimming with potential.” “Up for grabs.” “Great curb appeal.”
My interpretation:
“A slice of Heaven”: Better used in an epitaph than a house sale.
“Couldn’t be more perfect”: Imperfections abound.
“Timeless”: Requires update.
“Very spacious”: Small.
“Rare find”: Like any other.
“Won’t last”: Negotiable.
“Brimming with potential”: Run down.
“Up for grabs”: Accepts concessions.
“Great curb appeal”: House nicer than neighborhood.
Jonathan Locke’s theory of real estate, the one to which America subscribes, views personal property as a labor-based right. Property owners are encouraged to maximize their investment. This personal wealth model poses a societal problem: Inflated property values force out our children and the current workforce. It’s a dilemma common among metropolises and, now, here, in Small Lake City.
Recently, my niece purchased a home in Glendale. Until her move, she rented in Liberty Wells. When she was ready to buy, she looked in her neighborhood. Prices were out of range. She’s a professional, as is her fiancé. A two-person middle-class income was insufficient to purchase a downtown home. My niece wasn’t pushed far out of town, but she was pushed. Future buyers will be pushed further south, further west. Further.
Why? Not because properties are worth inherently more today than yesterday, per se, but because, as good capitalists, we sell at rates that exceed actual value. Property is worth whatever someone will give us, right?
Oftentimes, homes are worth less, a lot less, than someone is willing to dole out at closing. Without question, our houses are less valuable than realtors suggest with their clichés, superlatives and banana descriptions of the ever after.
I’m not arguing for Marx’s labor theory of property value. No doubt we should receive return on our investment. But capitalism works best when owners leverage advantage to help others. The concept is anathema on a personal level of big exchange — especially when someone enjoys the privilege of selling.
On a generational level, however, altruism sustains us and promises a future for those who deserve it most — the hardworking, the up and coming, the next.
Recently, my sister purchased a house downtown. The sellers could have taken a better offer. They had numerous deals on the table. In the end, they went with hers for $25,000 less. Intent upon preserving the community by selling to a good neighbor, they chose my sister instead of the top offer. They went for fair money profit instead of the most money possible — and our city is better for it.
Fairness gives us the opportunity to protect what we love: the homes we own, the ones we rent, the communities in which we live. The responsibilities inherent to the idea of ethical opportunity begin with ownership and extend to transfer.
The next time a realtor promises to move your “slice of Heaven” for more than asking? Request an earthbound assessment to keep this great place real for our kids.
Otherwise? Money will take our homes, and cash cares a lot less about this town than we do.
Calvin Jolley
Calvin Jolley, father of two daughters, lives and writes in downtown Salt Lake City.
