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No Fixed Abode: Life and Death Among the UK's Forgotten Homeless
This book will finally give a face and a voice to those we so easily forget in our society. It will tell the highly personal, human and sometimes surprisingly uplifting stories of real people struggling in a crumbling system. By telling their stories, we will come to know these people; to know their hopes and fears, their complexities and their contradictions. We will learn a little more about human relationships, in all their messiness. And we’ll learn how, with just a little too much misfortune, any of us could find ourselves homeless, even become one of the hundreds of people dying on Britain’s streets.
As the number of rough sleepers skyrockets across the UK, No Fixed Abode by Maeve McClenaghan will also bring to light many of the ad-hoc projects attempting to address the problem. You will meet some of the courageous people who dedicate their lives to saving the forgotten of our society and see that the smallest act of kindness or affection can save a life.
This is a timely and important book encompassing wider themes of inequality and austerity measures; through the prism of homelessness, it offers a true picture of Britain today – and shows how terrifyingly close to breaking point we really are.
As the number of rough sleepers skyrockets across the UK, No Fixed Abode by Maeve McClenaghan will also bring to light many of the ad-hoc projects attempting to address the problem. You will meet some of the courageous people who dedicate their lives to saving the forgotten of our society and see that the smallest act of kindness or affection can save a life.
This is a timely and important book encompassing wider themes of inequality and austerity measures; through the prism of homelessness, it offers a true picture of Britain today – and shows how terrifyingly close to breaking point we really are.
Hardcover
Published June 25, 2020
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January 15, 2021
A phenomenal book. Maeve McClenaghan has written one of the most striking books I have ever read, a striking look into homelessness in the UK that should be read by anyone with an interest in contemporary Britain.
'No Fixed Abode' takes it's title from the classification given when someone without a fixed residence dies. This is critical to the spine of McClenaghan's book, wherein she attempts to document over the course of a year how many people die whilst homeless. It creates an investigative through line that gives the text an immediate sense of direction, something which can be tricky for a contemporary non-fiction to pull off. More than that, it leads to interesting tangents of McClenaghan's experience meeting a cast of people with their own stories. All of this is to establish that this is an incredibly thoughtfully and thoroughly well put together book. It is also a fantastic piece of investigative journalism.
McClenaghan's experience tells stories of people who have died whilst homeless, people struggling to find housing, people escaping abuse or simply finding themselves with no port of call. Thee are a variety of people who McClenaghan meets and sadly never meets. Nobody is treated with anything other than an extraordinary amount of respect and diligence from the author to ensure they come across as real people, something which is critical to the book's powerful success. McClenaghan herself notes the points in her story which have a noticeable effect on her own thinking, as they surely will on the reader, which makes everything compelling in a way I have never experienced from even the best of autobiographies.
The subject matter itself, homelessness in the UK, is given a broad overview and a solid grounding in how it has gotten as bad as it has in 2020. She notes in her introduction the seemingly positive impact the 'Everyone In' programme has had since the advent of the COVID-19 pandemic, however recent reports indicate this impact may be extremely short term (link below). For the main focus of the book, a lack of political will and financial ability are squarely to blame for the rise in homelessness following the early 00's nearing a zero count of rough sleepers. McClenaghan presents her case in an extremely convincing way, with careful research and an awareness sometimes lacking in other responses to homelessness.
Finally, the book is extremely hopeful of change. McClenaghan's conclusion is not one which encourages apathy but action, in order to demand a change in the standards we all carry with us about rough sleeping. It changed my mind in many areas and reaffirmed attitudes, but most of all it was a powerful call to action. Rather impressively, in my opinion, I didn't find anything in the book to be 'preachy', in fact everything comes across with a raw honesty which puts things in a simple, human context.
This book is genuinely nothing short of one of the best non-fiction books I have ever read. I would recommend it to anybody.
(For an article on the impact 'Everybody In' has had on UK homeless people see this: https://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk...)
'No Fixed Abode' takes it's title from the classification given when someone without a fixed residence dies. This is critical to the spine of McClenaghan's book, wherein she attempts to document over the course of a year how many people die whilst homeless. It creates an investigative through line that gives the text an immediate sense of direction, something which can be tricky for a contemporary non-fiction to pull off. More than that, it leads to interesting tangents of McClenaghan's experience meeting a cast of people with their own stories. All of this is to establish that this is an incredibly thoughtfully and thoroughly well put together book. It is also a fantastic piece of investigative journalism.
McClenaghan's experience tells stories of people who have died whilst homeless, people struggling to find housing, people escaping abuse or simply finding themselves with no port of call. Thee are a variety of people who McClenaghan meets and sadly never meets. Nobody is treated with anything other than an extraordinary amount of respect and diligence from the author to ensure they come across as real people, something which is critical to the book's powerful success. McClenaghan herself notes the points in her story which have a noticeable effect on her own thinking, as they surely will on the reader, which makes everything compelling in a way I have never experienced from even the best of autobiographies.
The subject matter itself, homelessness in the UK, is given a broad overview and a solid grounding in how it has gotten as bad as it has in 2020. She notes in her introduction the seemingly positive impact the 'Everyone In' programme has had since the advent of the COVID-19 pandemic, however recent reports indicate this impact may be extremely short term (link below). For the main focus of the book, a lack of political will and financial ability are squarely to blame for the rise in homelessness following the early 00's nearing a zero count of rough sleepers. McClenaghan presents her case in an extremely convincing way, with careful research and an awareness sometimes lacking in other responses to homelessness.
Finally, the book is extremely hopeful of change. McClenaghan's conclusion is not one which encourages apathy but action, in order to demand a change in the standards we all carry with us about rough sleeping. It changed my mind in many areas and reaffirmed attitudes, but most of all it was a powerful call to action. Rather impressively, in my opinion, I didn't find anything in the book to be 'preachy', in fact everything comes across with a raw honesty which puts things in a simple, human context.
This book is genuinely nothing short of one of the best non-fiction books I have ever read. I would recommend it to anybody.
(For an article on the impact 'Everybody In' has had on UK homeless people see this: https://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk...)
December 31, 2020
An interesting insight into the world of the homelessness situation in the UK, this is an incredibly sobering book. There's a lot to be said for the welfare programs that have been implemented over the years, but there's not enough here to save the people who really need saving. The system is inherently broken, and there should be more done. I feel like this book could have come further and implemented more of the own voices that were necessary to carry this story across a little more. I think this book opens up a good conversation, but it just needed to go a bit further to make it more developed.
I wish there was some way to make this kind of book a little bit more detailed in how it approaches the subjects, and that the homeless individuals within were less subjects of anecdotes and more actual authors. I do find that there's serious value in here, and this book was a marvellous insight, but I just wanted it to be a little less esoteric.
I wish there was some way to make this kind of book a little bit more detailed in how it approaches the subjects, and that the homeless individuals within were less subjects of anecdotes and more actual authors. I do find that there's serious value in here, and this book was a marvellous insight, but I just wanted it to be a little less esoteric.
February 14, 2021
One of the most important books of the year. Brilliant account about homelessness and death in the UK and why this happens. And what we could do to make a change. This book makes you cry several times, but from the emotional connection action might be developed. I will never again look the other way in the UK when I see homeless people.
July 30, 2025
A deeply important book, but definitely one that will make you mad. This book blends personal stories with social and political commentary to weave together the plight of the UK's homeless, with particular focus on those who die while homeless and are usually forgotten. McClenaghan combines her research and interviews with sources together with her efforts to create a comprehensive list of those who die while homeless, and the subsequent changes this large collaborative project creates. It is unsurprising to read that until the time of McClenaghan's research, the UK did not keep specific data on the people who die without homes. It is, however, still infuriating, and I truly commend McClenaghan and her colleagues on what they've achieved here. This is impeccable journalism: exposing problems and creating real change, as well as holding those in authority to account.
McClenaghan writes with profound compassion. She does not shy away from the difficult stories that bring people to the streets; she does not try to paint the homeless as misunderstood angels. She has clearly identified the correlation between "innocent victims" and "being deserving of help," and she has staunchly refused to play into it. The homeless people McClenaghan features are complicated, human, and do not always act kindly or decently. Yet others do better fit the mould: victims of circumstance, women fleeing domestic violence, and so on. All of the people featured are treated with equal empathy, understanding, and dignity. Many of the people McClenaghan features are dead, and can therefore no longer speak for themselves. She is careful to interview as many people as possible who knew them, and where there is still a dearth of information, she is careful not to draw conclusions, make assumptions, or state anything she cannot back up. She is aware, as any good journalist should be, of the trust and responsibility passed on when one is trusted with a story, and she takes it very seriously.
I have only two criticisms, neither of which are detrimental to the brilliant work done within this book but that I feel I should mention all the same. The first is that McClenaghan does, at times, adopt that chatty, hapless tone some journalists use when they're self-conscious or trying to be relatable; while I understand she's just trying to keep herself humble and illustrate that she was well out of her depth towards the beginning (and acknowledge her own prejudices, which I also commend her for), it does come across as an odd choice when an author is simultaneously trying to convince their reader to trust them as a reliable and competent source. I don't mind when an author wants to acknowledge they've made mistakes or embarrassed themselves, but too much of it kind of comes across as comic, and that's not really the right tone for such a book.
The second is a little more personal: McClenaghan has far too much faith in safety nets, and it takes her far too long (and too much repetition) to lose it.
I have been homeless three times, all before I was 25. Two of these occasions were thankfully brief; the third one was not. This third time occured after years of relentless poverty where I did everything I could to keep my head above the water, but it was not enough. My partner and I spent months living in the back of my small Renault Clio, freezing and starving. We had no family to help us, and as my partner was not a British citizen at the time, only I was eligible for assistance and it would result in us being split up. Naturally unwilling to take accommodation while the person I loved froze on the streets, it was as good as no help at all. When we did eventually get off the streets, we suffered brutal poverty for many more years, including the ridiculous UK benefits system which managed to mess up our claim and saddle us with debt to pay back the second I got a barely minimum-wage job, thus robbing us of any security for several more months. Needless to say, the whole experience was deeply traumatic and left me knowing that at any moment, it could all go wrong and there will be nobody to help me -- compounded now by the fact my now-wife has a dangerous health condition. We both know how quickly it can go wrong.
I have always known this. Coming from a deeply abusive and neglectful home, I have been aware from an early age that there are no safety nets. Safety nets are a delusion people tell themselves in order to be able to live with how precarious life is. Many people are fortunate enough to go through life without having to call upon them, and this is how the delusion is maintained. Anyone who has had to associate with them knows the truth. I am glad McClenaghan does not know this first-hand, but it was frustrating to see her come across story after story of people being let down, rejected, screwed over, and insulted by these "safety nets" and still conclude every chapter with "but surely something could be done?" or "surely this person couldn't just be abandoned?" I couldn't help but feel, after a point, that this attitude was speaking over the dozens of voices telling her that yes, they can be and had been abandoned; no, nothing can be done. Computer says no. You don't qualify. You do qualify but you have to abandon your pet/your partner/give up your child. You do qualify but you must move 400 miles away. No, we can't accept you if you have mental health issues. And so on. (Hell, I wasn't even allowed to warm up in a library because it wanted three forms of government ID to sign me up. Even now, I do not have three forms, just the usual driver's license and passport.) It is that bad, and while McClenaghan eventually realises this with all the usual and expected outrage, it was rage-inducing to see it take her so long.
Still, she has learned, and hopefully others like her learn too. One of the most dismissive, enraging, and alienating things you can do to somebody who is struggling is bleat on about how the worst can't happen. It can, and as McClenaghan illustrates, it often comes with warning signs. She does not pretend to have all the answers, but the conclusions she draws are good ones, and she presents several possibilities while openly admitting that it will take big changes in the government to implement. We can all but end homelessness. It is not a state we have to accept. Nobody should be without a home. A safe shelter is a human right. We can do so much better than this, and I urge everyone who wants to understand why and how to read this book. Forget all the usual nonsense about "this could happen to you too" -- it's happening to other people, right now, and they don't deserve it either.
McClenaghan writes with profound compassion. She does not shy away from the difficult stories that bring people to the streets; she does not try to paint the homeless as misunderstood angels. She has clearly identified the correlation between "innocent victims" and "being deserving of help," and she has staunchly refused to play into it. The homeless people McClenaghan features are complicated, human, and do not always act kindly or decently. Yet others do better fit the mould: victims of circumstance, women fleeing domestic violence, and so on. All of the people featured are treated with equal empathy, understanding, and dignity. Many of the people McClenaghan features are dead, and can therefore no longer speak for themselves. She is careful to interview as many people as possible who knew them, and where there is still a dearth of information, she is careful not to draw conclusions, make assumptions, or state anything she cannot back up. She is aware, as any good journalist should be, of the trust and responsibility passed on when one is trusted with a story, and she takes it very seriously.
I have only two criticisms, neither of which are detrimental to the brilliant work done within this book but that I feel I should mention all the same. The first is that McClenaghan does, at times, adopt that chatty, hapless tone some journalists use when they're self-conscious or trying to be relatable; while I understand she's just trying to keep herself humble and illustrate that she was well out of her depth towards the beginning (and acknowledge her own prejudices, which I also commend her for), it does come across as an odd choice when an author is simultaneously trying to convince their reader to trust them as a reliable and competent source. I don't mind when an author wants to acknowledge they've made mistakes or embarrassed themselves, but too much of it kind of comes across as comic, and that's not really the right tone for such a book.
The second is a little more personal: McClenaghan has far too much faith in safety nets, and it takes her far too long (and too much repetition) to lose it.
I have been homeless three times, all before I was 25. Two of these occasions were thankfully brief; the third one was not. This third time occured after years of relentless poverty where I did everything I could to keep my head above the water, but it was not enough. My partner and I spent months living in the back of my small Renault Clio, freezing and starving. We had no family to help us, and as my partner was not a British citizen at the time, only I was eligible for assistance and it would result in us being split up. Naturally unwilling to take accommodation while the person I loved froze on the streets, it was as good as no help at all. When we did eventually get off the streets, we suffered brutal poverty for many more years, including the ridiculous UK benefits system which managed to mess up our claim and saddle us with debt to pay back the second I got a barely minimum-wage job, thus robbing us of any security for several more months. Needless to say, the whole experience was deeply traumatic and left me knowing that at any moment, it could all go wrong and there will be nobody to help me -- compounded now by the fact my now-wife has a dangerous health condition. We both know how quickly it can go wrong.
I have always known this. Coming from a deeply abusive and neglectful home, I have been aware from an early age that there are no safety nets. Safety nets are a delusion people tell themselves in order to be able to live with how precarious life is. Many people are fortunate enough to go through life without having to call upon them, and this is how the delusion is maintained. Anyone who has had to associate with them knows the truth. I am glad McClenaghan does not know this first-hand, but it was frustrating to see her come across story after story of people being let down, rejected, screwed over, and insulted by these "safety nets" and still conclude every chapter with "but surely something could be done?" or "surely this person couldn't just be abandoned?" I couldn't help but feel, after a point, that this attitude was speaking over the dozens of voices telling her that yes, they can be and had been abandoned; no, nothing can be done. Computer says no. You don't qualify. You do qualify but you have to abandon your pet/your partner/give up your child. You do qualify but you must move 400 miles away. No, we can't accept you if you have mental health issues. And so on. (Hell, I wasn't even allowed to warm up in a library because it wanted three forms of government ID to sign me up. Even now, I do not have three forms, just the usual driver's license and passport.) It is that bad, and while McClenaghan eventually realises this with all the usual and expected outrage, it was rage-inducing to see it take her so long.
Still, she has learned, and hopefully others like her learn too. One of the most dismissive, enraging, and alienating things you can do to somebody who is struggling is bleat on about how the worst can't happen. It can, and as McClenaghan illustrates, it often comes with warning signs. She does not pretend to have all the answers, but the conclusions she draws are good ones, and she presents several possibilities while openly admitting that it will take big changes in the government to implement. We can all but end homelessness. It is not a state we have to accept. Nobody should be without a home. A safe shelter is a human right. We can do so much better than this, and I urge everyone who wants to understand why and how to read this book. Forget all the usual nonsense about "this could happen to you too" -- it's happening to other people, right now, and they don't deserve it either.
September 14, 2020
This review also appears on my blog at: https://mistrollingin.wordpress.com/
The American poet Robert Frost wrote that “Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.” I have been very fortunate in my life, I have always had a place to go where I would be welcomed and the door would be opened with loving arms. It is that privilege that led me to get involved with a local homelessness charity several years ago. It was a step out of my (very comfortable) comfort zone, initially joining fundraising sleepouts before eventually volunteering in a frontline service and ultimately on the board of trustees.
I knew that this was a chance for me to meet and get to know people I would not otherwise connect with in any meaningful way and I knew that it was important for me to step outside of the coddled world I lived in to learn about other people’s realities. That time remains one of the most fulfilling of my life, not because of anything that I did, but because of the people I met and the impact they had on me. Whether staff, volunteers or service users, as the terminology called them, I was constantly inspired. Lives were being transformed before my eyes and even though in such a messy and chaotic environment “outcomes” were hardly ever perfect, they were remarkable.
By the time my direct involvement came to an end the pressures on the organisation were immense. Deep cuts to local authority funding meant there was a constant squeeze as more was demanded for less. I had become as concerned for the well-being of staff as I was for service users, with many of them on minimum wage and in danger themselves of requiring the very services they were working so hard to provide. Perhaps the saddest thing is that nothing is actually saved when cuts are made, people are just pushed between different services and geographies, as each one tries to keep this new need away from their vanishing budgets.
People are damaged, lives are lost, but we have cultivated a society in which we would rather have that than feel that someone else might be getting something for nothing, something that they don’t deserve. Whatever a person’s circumstances and however close we might be in reality to the same, we find ways to de-humanise and blame them. We feel more comfortable criminalising the homeless so that we can punish them, rather than help them. Covid-19 may have pushed the issue of homelessness out of minds a little, might have found a temporary plaster to cover this wound in our society, but the issues still lie below that veneer ready to break forth again.
It is in this context that I picked up Maeve McClenaghan’s new book No Fixed Abode – Life and Death Among the UK’s Forgotten Homeless. Maeve is an investigative journalist who came across the story of a homeless man, Tony, who froze to death in the garden of the house that he had lived in for decades but was evicted from when a spiral of addiction led him to missed payments and rising debts. Neighbours saw Tony walking towards the house and down the side passage to the garden, they saw him seated on the garden furniture in a light coat completely inappropriate to the weather, the emergency services were called but passed the problem amongst themselves until Tony was found dead the next morning. Maeve set out to find out how many people were dying on our streets, but no one was counting.
The book follows Maeve’s journey around the country learning about the reality of homelessness across the UK and the individual, personal stories that make up the national statistics. Along the way she meets people who are struggling to cope and people who are struggling to help, with in each case the machinations of government and authority seemingly for the most part just getting in the way. As a result the book is at turns heart-breaking, uplifting and frustrating. It isn’t that we cannot resolve the problem of homelessness, but that we actively choose not to and even to get in the way of those trying to improve things for some of our most vulnerable people.
Some of the stories are remarkable but we have to be careful not to use them as a benchmark for who we will and will not help. Hamid’s story, for example, is very appealing, an academically brilliant man traumatised by conscription into the Iran-Iraq war he almost ended up working with Stephen Hawking at Cambridge University but instead died in a hostel after years of living in a car in a supermarket car park. Hamid might in another life have been a friend, he deserves our help, but not those others.
It is worrying to hear government ministers talk in the terms of not deserving our help. When faced with people drowning in our seas the first thought should be pulling them out, not shutting down the channel. When a person starves on our streets the first reaction should be horror at a failure of our society. We have made compassion a weakness to be mocked when it should be the cornerstone of everything we do, especially our public servants.
When I volunteered in a service for older homeless men with long term drug or alcohol dependency there was a mix of characters and back stories. Some were transforming before my eyes, others were still addicted and might one day be friendly and chatty but another be completely blank, eyes glazed by amphetamines. We cannot choose who to help and who to not, that isn’t our place.
We also have to accept that you cannot force help on someone who doesn’t want it and the help we offer may not be wanted, but we can still walk alongside someone without expectation, so that at least whatever happens it doesn’t happen alone. Essentially, we have to re-learn to care about others. After decades of elevating the self, promoting greed and denying the existence of community we have hardened our hearts to those in need. For our own sakes and theirs, we need to break down the physical and metaphorical walls that divide us and meet again as fellow people.
No Fixed Abode is published on 17 September 2020 by Picador. Read it with an open mind and an open heart and be changed.
The American poet Robert Frost wrote that “Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.” I have been very fortunate in my life, I have always had a place to go where I would be welcomed and the door would be opened with loving arms. It is that privilege that led me to get involved with a local homelessness charity several years ago. It was a step out of my (very comfortable) comfort zone, initially joining fundraising sleepouts before eventually volunteering in a frontline service and ultimately on the board of trustees.
I knew that this was a chance for me to meet and get to know people I would not otherwise connect with in any meaningful way and I knew that it was important for me to step outside of the coddled world I lived in to learn about other people’s realities. That time remains one of the most fulfilling of my life, not because of anything that I did, but because of the people I met and the impact they had on me. Whether staff, volunteers or service users, as the terminology called them, I was constantly inspired. Lives were being transformed before my eyes and even though in such a messy and chaotic environment “outcomes” were hardly ever perfect, they were remarkable.
By the time my direct involvement came to an end the pressures on the organisation were immense. Deep cuts to local authority funding meant there was a constant squeeze as more was demanded for less. I had become as concerned for the well-being of staff as I was for service users, with many of them on minimum wage and in danger themselves of requiring the very services they were working so hard to provide. Perhaps the saddest thing is that nothing is actually saved when cuts are made, people are just pushed between different services and geographies, as each one tries to keep this new need away from their vanishing budgets.
People are damaged, lives are lost, but we have cultivated a society in which we would rather have that than feel that someone else might be getting something for nothing, something that they don’t deserve. Whatever a person’s circumstances and however close we might be in reality to the same, we find ways to de-humanise and blame them. We feel more comfortable criminalising the homeless so that we can punish them, rather than help them. Covid-19 may have pushed the issue of homelessness out of minds a little, might have found a temporary plaster to cover this wound in our society, but the issues still lie below that veneer ready to break forth again.
It is in this context that I picked up Maeve McClenaghan’s new book No Fixed Abode – Life and Death Among the UK’s Forgotten Homeless. Maeve is an investigative journalist who came across the story of a homeless man, Tony, who froze to death in the garden of the house that he had lived in for decades but was evicted from when a spiral of addiction led him to missed payments and rising debts. Neighbours saw Tony walking towards the house and down the side passage to the garden, they saw him seated on the garden furniture in a light coat completely inappropriate to the weather, the emergency services were called but passed the problem amongst themselves until Tony was found dead the next morning. Maeve set out to find out how many people were dying on our streets, but no one was counting.
The book follows Maeve’s journey around the country learning about the reality of homelessness across the UK and the individual, personal stories that make up the national statistics. Along the way she meets people who are struggling to cope and people who are struggling to help, with in each case the machinations of government and authority seemingly for the most part just getting in the way. As a result the book is at turns heart-breaking, uplifting and frustrating. It isn’t that we cannot resolve the problem of homelessness, but that we actively choose not to and even to get in the way of those trying to improve things for some of our most vulnerable people.
Some of the stories are remarkable but we have to be careful not to use them as a benchmark for who we will and will not help. Hamid’s story, for example, is very appealing, an academically brilliant man traumatised by conscription into the Iran-Iraq war he almost ended up working with Stephen Hawking at Cambridge University but instead died in a hostel after years of living in a car in a supermarket car park. Hamid might in another life have been a friend, he deserves our help, but not those others.
It is worrying to hear government ministers talk in the terms of not deserving our help. When faced with people drowning in our seas the first thought should be pulling them out, not shutting down the channel. When a person starves on our streets the first reaction should be horror at a failure of our society. We have made compassion a weakness to be mocked when it should be the cornerstone of everything we do, especially our public servants.
When I volunteered in a service for older homeless men with long term drug or alcohol dependency there was a mix of characters and back stories. Some were transforming before my eyes, others were still addicted and might one day be friendly and chatty but another be completely blank, eyes glazed by amphetamines. We cannot choose who to help and who to not, that isn’t our place.
We also have to accept that you cannot force help on someone who doesn’t want it and the help we offer may not be wanted, but we can still walk alongside someone without expectation, so that at least whatever happens it doesn’t happen alone. Essentially, we have to re-learn to care about others. After decades of elevating the self, promoting greed and denying the existence of community we have hardened our hearts to those in need. For our own sakes and theirs, we need to break down the physical and metaphorical walls that divide us and meet again as fellow people.
No Fixed Abode is published on 17 September 2020 by Picador. Read it with an open mind and an open heart and be changed.
December 27, 2024
A must-read to learn about the homelessness epidemic in the UK
September 28, 2020
I’ve admired McLenaghan’s work as an investigative journalist for a while and was really keen to read her research into why no one was recording the deaths of homeless people.
Through interviews with families of homeless people and workers and activists, freedom of information requests, attending court and inquests, she pieces together the truth.
Through this work she forms a shocking picture of death on the streets, but more than this the stories of the lives behind them.
She realises that the maxim that we are all a few paychecks away from homelessness is not entirely accurate: many have resources such as family support and do not have the trauma of lives blighted by childhood abuse or addiction and domestic violence.
But McLenaghan’s work is not just revealing. It also has led to change such as inquiries into the deaths and the Office for National Statistics starting to collect this important data.
If you want to understand the extent of death on the streets but also the structural causes of it and what you can do to help, I would thoroughly recommend this book.
Through interviews with families of homeless people and workers and activists, freedom of information requests, attending court and inquests, she pieces together the truth.
Through this work she forms a shocking picture of death on the streets, but more than this the stories of the lives behind them.
She realises that the maxim that we are all a few paychecks away from homelessness is not entirely accurate: many have resources such as family support and do not have the trauma of lives blighted by childhood abuse or addiction and domestic violence.
But McLenaghan’s work is not just revealing. It also has led to change such as inquiries into the deaths and the Office for National Statistics starting to collect this important data.
If you want to understand the extent of death on the streets but also the structural causes of it and what you can do to help, I would thoroughly recommend this book.
November 8, 2020
McClenaghan started a project to tally the number of people dying homeless in the UK. In her book she talks about the project, and interviews people experiencing homelessness and support workers and families and friends. The thing I found most shocking (if not surprising) is that she describes that the number of people experiencing homelessness hasn't always been high, but rather was apparently very low in the early 2000s but then shot back up again with austerity after the financial crisis. We could do much more, and we know what needs doing, but budget cuts have done massive harm, and have resulted in catch-22s. For example she describes people struggling to access addiction services if they have mental health issues, but unable to access mental health support if they have addictions. Some people get turned away for not being high priority, others for being too complex. People can't access support, but when people take over empty buildings to house people experiencing homelessness, they are evicted for squatting.
Similarly to the Windrush Scandal by Gentleman, it made me feel that (a) the way government policy runs seems to divorce it from outcomes on the ground (and while McClenaghan doesn't give any cost-benefit stats for e.g. Housing First, her reporting makes clear that a LOT of money is being spent on, for example, A&E services which would not be necessary if there were more support available - not that cost-benefit is the be-all and end-all of what government should do but from a logic of cost-cutting surely this isn't working), and (b) newspaper reporting has a vital role to play in driving headlines, public attention, and ultimately holding government to account.
Similarly to the Windrush Scandal by Gentleman, it made me feel that (a) the way government policy runs seems to divorce it from outcomes on the ground (and while McClenaghan doesn't give any cost-benefit stats for e.g. Housing First, her reporting makes clear that a LOT of money is being spent on, for example, A&E services which would not be necessary if there were more support available - not that cost-benefit is the be-all and end-all of what government should do but from a logic of cost-cutting surely this isn't working), and (b) newspaper reporting has a vital role to play in driving headlines, public attention, and ultimately holding government to account.
January 6, 2023
Probably the most important book about the UK I have ever read. If only our government were forced to read this as part of their job as I don't think anyone could and not feel deeply moved by its content and spurred into action.
Homelessness has always been a topic close to my heart as I experienced it first hand as a teenager. I could relate with so many of the stories, and in some ways, I found that to help with my own healing journey.
I ran an open monthly dialogue last year on homelessness and found the 'What can I do?' section at the end of the book spot on. So many people are worried about talking to people who are experiencing homelessness simply because they do not know what to say. In reality, you should just speak to them like anyone else you'd meet in the street. It doesn't need to be overcomplicated! Often, a conversation is more helpful than silently chucking a few quid at them and scurrying away.
I would be so interested to see how things have developed since COVID and the cost of living crisis as I know the services in my area are now struggling more than ever.
Hats off to Maeve McClenaghan for delving into such a tricky topic and thank you for all your volunteering efforts, your work will have made such an impact to so many.
Homelessness has always been a topic close to my heart as I experienced it first hand as a teenager. I could relate with so many of the stories, and in some ways, I found that to help with my own healing journey.
I ran an open monthly dialogue last year on homelessness and found the 'What can I do?' section at the end of the book spot on. So many people are worried about talking to people who are experiencing homelessness simply because they do not know what to say. In reality, you should just speak to them like anyone else you'd meet in the street. It doesn't need to be overcomplicated! Often, a conversation is more helpful than silently chucking a few quid at them and scurrying away.
I would be so interested to see how things have developed since COVID and the cost of living crisis as I know the services in my area are now struggling more than ever.
Hats off to Maeve McClenaghan for delving into such a tricky topic and thank you for all your volunteering efforts, your work will have made such an impact to so many.
July 20, 2023
This is one of the toughest yet thought-provoking books which I have read in a very long time.
I have always been a person who supports homelessness charities and making small talk with The Big Issue vendors, but this book has highlighted how important that can be. And not only that, how dire the situation is in the UK for people in poverty and experiencing homelessness.
I applaud the work that author and her fellow journalists undertook to give all those who died a story and a name. This must have been an emotionally draining year, but the reward of having your research noticed and acted upon by the people who can make a difference will hopefully have a huge effect.
I have always been a person who supports homelessness charities and making small talk with The Big Issue vendors, but this book has highlighted how important that can be. And not only that, how dire the situation is in the UK for people in poverty and experiencing homelessness.
I applaud the work that author and her fellow journalists undertook to give all those who died a story and a name. This must have been an emotionally draining year, but the reward of having your research noticed and acted upon by the people who can make a difference will hopefully have a huge effect.
January 12, 2022
The author gives a clear-eyed and detailed description of why and how individuals fall through the "safety net" and end up homeless .. more particularly, how many homeless die. The facts are mainly delivered through anecdote, which almost smothers out the statistics and analysis. Personally, I would have liked more analysis, and consequently, only three stars.
Notwithstanding, the book will change my view of the homeless that I encounter, and has stirred me to some action: so the author has made her point.
Notwithstanding, the book will change my view of the homeless that I encounter, and has stirred me to some action: so the author has made her point.
February 14, 2022
Good and interesting read highlighting the mess that is our methods of helping the homeless (or lack thereof). As somebody who works in this field it was still an interesting read but wpuld highlight many many issues for those who do not work in or with the housing sector. Very sad at points too. Would recommend
September 14, 2022
I have some experience of working with homeless people in a previous job so bought this book a while back when it was recommended to me. This is an easy read with each chapter based upon a story about a homeless individual. Some of it is a bit repetitive but I think that is intentional. This book provides good insight into the reality and scale of homelessness in the UK.
August 13, 2023
A gut-wrenching and eye-opening account of the realities and hardships of homelessness. While institutional changes must be made at governmental levels, No Fixed Abode reminds us of the individual efforts that can be made to engage with a, tragically, ever growing homeless population, none other than they, like us, are human beings.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
November 15, 2020
This book hit me hard. I had to read it in sections and then leave days between so that it wouldn’t brings my mental health down. The whole time I was thinking ‘the fact you can take breaks from this subject is such a privilege’. Probably the best non-fiction book I’ve read this year.
February 26, 2021
A wonderful argument, using emotional appeals and hard data, for a better social policy on preventing homelessness. Full of despair and hope in equal measure, told brilliantly by a journalist who dug into the story, as a good journalist should. I won't see homeless people as a statistic any more.
January 30, 2023
I was lent this as I stated a new job working on homelessness and rough sleeping stats. Very eye opening and sobering. Greatly written and hopefully I can take some of my lessons with me to help improve things.
January 22, 2021
I’m Kinda fucked cos I can’t relate to anyone who likes broccoli or carrots. 🥺
January 1, 2023
An expose that is as insightful as it is informative, giving voice to the unseen and highliting the ongoing devastating effects of continuous governmental budget cuts to vital services.
February 11, 2023
Broke my heart and uplifted me simultaneously.
Loved it.
Loved it.
July 24, 2023
Makes you appreciate what you have - excellent book
June 19, 2025
Very tough one this, endless real deaths. But if learning about UK homelessness is your thing, you can’t really look past it
January 19, 2024
Having worked as a preventing rough sleeping worker for 3 years now I was sceptical of this book for many reasons, pleased to say I needn't have been. Very good book and passion for project not just of author but those interviewed along the way really comes through.
I especially enjoyed the stats and learning about the situation back in 2010, from speaking with colleague more experienced than myself I knew things were better back then but learning why things have changed was a real eye opener, especially the move of methadone subscription from NHS to LA.
I especially enjoyed the stats and learning about the situation back in 2010, from speaking with colleague more experienced than myself I knew things were better back then but learning why things have changed was a real eye opener, especially the move of methadone subscription from NHS to LA.
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December 20, 2022I listened to this on audiobook which is read by the author.
It is a fantastic non fiction book which is filled with personal stories and facts.
An eye opening book about homelessness in the UK
It is a fantastic non fiction book which is filled with personal stories and facts.
An eye opening book about homelessness in the UK
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