When Byron Shire council wrote to Matt Bruce to inform him it planned to demolish his tiny home, it included the number for crisis accommodation.
“Council acknowledges that the attached … Demolish Works Order ... may have the effect of making any resident of the subject dwelling homeless,” its letter reads. “Therefore council provides the contact details of the following agencies to assist in finding alternative accommodation.”
For three years, Bruce, 38, has lived in his tiny home on the edge of his friend’s 57-hectare property, 15 minutes outside Mullumbimby, in the New South Wales northern rivers.
The tiny home is self-sustainable, has solar panels and comes equipped with a composting toilet.
Just before floods hit Lismore about 20 months ago, Bruce was sent a letter from the council asking to inspect his home.
Council officers determined it was a permanent dwelling, and to avoid demolition, it needed to go through building compliance procedures. Bruce says the council gave him a grace period to prove the dwelling could be moved, which would mean it could be classified as a caravan. Then the floods hit.
Bruce, a war veteran who served in Afghanistan and Jordan as a telecommunications engineer, has stared down the council and mounted arguments for why the home is not permanent and he should be allowed to stay.
The council now says if he moved his home next to the main property on the block it would become compliant – but Bruce claims this would cost him thousands of dollars and seems pointless.
“We’ve got 140 acres of land, and you’re forcing us to have houses next to each other,” Bruce says. “It makes no sense.”
Bruce is not the only tiny home owner facing local government red tape. In July, the Sunshine Coast council announced it would evict four families living in tiny homes on a 13-hectare property because they did not meet council guidelines.
As Australians grapple with sky-high rents, less home ownership and a rapidly increasingly homeless population, advocates for tiny homes say there needs to be a blanket classification for the dwellings and more flexibility from councils.
Some councils argue tiny homes do not comply with standard building regulations, such as a minimum 2.4m ceiling height. Council regulations for permanent dwellings dictate requirements that apply to water supply, waste disposal, bushfire and flood risk, for instance, as well as indicating the rates an occupant pays.
But others are embracing the idea that small dwellings could play a part in addressing the housing crisis. Mount Alexander shire, in central Victoria, changed its local laws in June to allow tiny homes to be parked on properties where there is already one permanent dwelling built.
Paul Burton, a researcher at Griffith University, has canvassed the regulations some councils use to classify tiny homes. “The kind of planning legislation varies from state and territory to state and territory, so they’re not all the same,” he says.
“It would probably be a good thing for most local governments to just review what they’ve got and make sure that the planning policy that was maybe drafted 20 years ago is doing what it wants to do now.”
He points to Gympie, where the Queensland government has just opened an abandoned holiday park and put in eight tiny homes to act as crisis accommodation.
“Tiny houses can make a contribution to the current housing crisis,” he says. “Should [councils] be a bit more thoughtful about tiny houses? Absolutely, yes. Because it provides a bit of variety. And that’s what we need.”
The president of the Australian Tiny House Association, Janine Strachan, is also looking for consistency and flexibility in zoning laws. She says there should be set criteria, and if the dwelling meets them, it should be allowed to be placed in someone’s yard or – with government approval – on unused land.
“There’s lots of excess land that is sitting idle, not being managed, not being developed,” Strachan says.
In response to questions about Bruce’s case, Byron Shire council’s director of sustainable environment and economy, Shannon Burt, says the council generally won’t “comment on individual cases”.
“This matter was first raised as a complaint to council regarding unauthorised land clearing and an unapproved dwelling on the land. This matter is ongoing,” Burt says.
“Our staff, especially those in the enforcement team, are extremely professional, dealing with a number of issues with compassion and with a strong desire to find reasonable solutions and resolutions to often-complex problems. This situation is no different.”
In a statement received after publication the mayor of Byron shire council, Michael Lyon, said he felt for Bruce, but the council had to act when landowners failed to resolve similar situations.
“We cannot allow precedents of development in prohibited zones or it becomes open slather,” Lyon said.
Bruce says fighting with the council to keep his home has triggered his PTSD.
“It’s my life savings, it’s all I have,” he says. “I’ve healed a lot, but it doesn’t mean I’m resilient to go through all life circumstances.”
The demolition order still stands, and if Bruce can’t argue his dwelling is mobile, he will likely lose his home. The council has now sent his landlord a fine, totalling $9,000, for “development without consent”.
“The council basically come out and took one look at it and decided that it’s a permanent dwelling,” he says. “So [they say] it’s like a fixed house, it’s not a tiny house.
“It’s a moveable dwelling,” Bruce says. “It’s the size of a trailer.”
• This article was amended on 11 September 2023 to clarify that the council’s fine was issued to Bruce’s landlord, not to Bruce, and to include the mayor’s response.
