One result of Daphne’s forceful style (TMID 25 August) is that her ‘if’ sentences come across as stating self-evident facts, so obvious that they hardly need pointing out. In the real world outside her column, however, a statement like:

“If a person is comfortable enough to own a spare flat, and (if) he or she is working rather than living off a pension, then the chances are that he or she is also comfortable enough to let those few hundred liri go ...” is just a conditional sentence. Its truth or otherwise depends on other factors – for example on how Daphne defines ‘comfortable’ and whether it is a generally accepted definition. Or, perhaps, how many are comfortable enough to cheerfully let a few hundred liri go. Or even what ‘the chances are’ means exactly.

There is another qualifier embedded (if-less in her version, true) within the sentence, referring to flat-owners who are not working, but living off a pension. I have no idea how many there are – which is probably Daphne’s state of knowledge too. A good reason not to shrug them off so easily, I would have thought.

Another if-sentence which sounds authoritative when it really just invites questions is:

“If it were (a burgeoning market), rental prices wouldn’t be so low.”

Definitions again come in here, especially those for ‘burgeoning’ and, of course, ‘low’. I have rented flats all over Sliema for the last 15 years, and it never once occurred to me that my rent was ‘low’.

Daphne’s dynamic style also has the effect of giving her direct statements, especially the ones about the Maltese mentality, the authoritative ring of a sociology text. When in fact – “Maltese people rent only if they are forced to do so by circumstances – like being thrown out of the family home, or having no family home to start with and not enough capital and income to buy one” is a statement that is open to hours of discussion.

For a start it implies that the number of people “forced to do so” is small, which Daphne has by no means proved, and further, that their needs and desires may be ignored. It also assumes that the wish to live in a nuclear family is the norm, which is at best a very superficial outlook. It fails to take into account single adults like myself, who have no particular quarrel with their family (i.e., have not been thrown out), but simply want to live like adults in their own space, which is in effect the European norm. And what about gay people, the undisputed 10 per cent, for whom living in a traditional Maltese family is a very tough option?

This sentence is doubly misleading because ‘forced to’ is not a realistic way to talk about paying rent, unless you also say we are forced to pay money for our food or forced to pay for heating and transport. Paying rent is a fact of life for many people, not an emergency measure.

Other excessively confident statements include the one that the rental market is made up ‘entirely’ of expatriates who are here for fixed periods of work (offhand I can think of at least six expats I know who are here for the foreseeable future. The language teaching sector is just one of many that Daphne should look at more closely), young people who have just left home (I left home many years ago) or separated men who have walked out or been thrown out (Daphne does not mention single or abandoned mothers).

I admit that perhaps all the cases I mention above might be viewed as exceptions. To which I can only answer that that is a lot of exceptions. And also, that it is a sad community where exceptions do not count.

When Daphne occasionally gives us facts rather than opinions, she has obviously not checked them. A mediocre flat in Sliema can be and usually is rented for more than Lm100 a month – Lm125 is a typical starting point for bargaining, but a lot depends on how experienced the landlord senses the tenant is (the landlord negotiates professionally – the tenant does not).

That Lm100 or Lm200 go to the broker misleads the reader on two points. First, the broker’s fee is paid only once, so that compared to the landlord’s earnings over a year or two it is a relatively small sum. And also, of course, the broker and his fee are not a must. Many tenants get their flats through word of mouth or prior acquaintance – I have rented three different flats just by picking up the phone and calling a man I know who rents flats.

Whatever landlords and agents may say, the claim that they are chasing potential tenants is an absurd one to make in 300 square kilometres with 400,000 inhabitants and a couple of million tourists a year, where 20 per cent of housing units are unused.

About the costs of maintenance, the landlords’ complaints leave me cold. While living in Germany I occasionally have to remind myself that a decent bathroom and kitchen, a reliable hot water supply, safe electric wiring, and credible water and electricity bills are not little details I should not bother the landlord about. They are my rights, not open to discussion.

That Lm500 a month will only get you “a shoe-cupboard in a bad street” in the major European cities is just plain wrong. True, it will not get you a luxury apartment on the Champ Elysees, Oxford Street or the Ku’damm, but how many people live there anyway? How many Maltese live in luxurious villas with pools in prime locations?

Lm150/250 a month will rent a decent flat in a decent neighbourhood in Berlin, Frankfurt, Geneva or Dublin. Which is not bad at all, when you compare European and Maltese salaries, and remember that many millions choose to live in the suburbs or the thousands of towns outside the metropolis, with a proportionately lower rent. What I know is that since I took my first flat in Malta about 15 years ago, rents have just about doubled while my salary, of course, has done nothing of the sort.

In any case, as Daphne well knows, someone on the minimum wage has only Lm241 a month to live on. In that situation, how can an average Lm100/125 a month rent be considered even remotely socially just? How can she “understand that there should be aesthetic controls” (presumably conforming to her tastes) without once considering the problem from the social perspective? The system needs a thorough and realistic looking-at – comparing this process to the Socialist requisitions is meaningless.

Many more people than Daphne seems to realise are ‘poor’, not only in the drudgery and stress of spending their lives hovering around the poverty-line, but in the sense that getting the money for a down payment on a flat is less a dream than a mirage. After all, one may, through hard work or luck, one day attain a dream. For these people rent is the only option, which leads us to the sad paradox that in Malta it is very expensive to be poor.

Whatever the ‘norm’ is, young people should be encouraged to leave home and take up an adult role, for the same reasons that they should be encouraged to travel. What about the young people who – hopefully – are taking the opportunity to visit Europe, live, study and work there? Will all of them happily return to their parents’ house?

From every aspect I can think of we have everything to learn about social responsibility, as opposed to family, political or parochial loyalties. It is not far-fetched to relate this social immaturity to a personal one. Our obsession with political irrelevancies is linked to an inability to tell what is important and what is not in everyday life – an inability that our politicians exploit. Taking responsibility for one’s daily life (doing laundry, shopping, balancing a budget) does wonders to clear one’s head and start thinking about what’s what. Daphne will at least admit that while responsibility can be hard work, everybody’s a winner in the end. The present system is unfair to people who want or need to live outside the stereotyped home environment. That makes it a social issue, not just a question of private property rights, which are, in any case, a very long way from being holy or inalienable.