Written by Simone Schenkel

In a recent blog post, we shared research and commentary around Australia’s escalating heatwaves — including a stark warning from Professor Sebastian Pfautsch from Western Sydney University.

In late January 2026, following Australia’s most recent heatwave, he said:

“With the progression of climate change, Australians can expect extreme heatwaves to scorch towns and cities every other year.”

Looking at the research, I can attest to this problem first-hand.

At the end of last year, I found myself in a rather precarious situation. After living for years in a beautiful, healthy and genuinely comfortable Passive House, I suddenly found myself back in the rental market.

And oh dear — what a harsh awakening that was.

From a Healthy Home to the Rental Reality

I live with a dust mite allergy, which immediately ruled out carpets. That alone made the search challenging. Almost every rental property I inspected had carpet in the bedrooms — not because it’s a good choice for health or durability, but because it’s cheap.

And sadly, when it comes to rental housing, “cheap” often wins.

But my bigger concern is mould. I’m highly allergic to it — and mould is far more common in Australian homes than many people realise. The sneaky thing about mould is that it’s often invisible. It can sit quietly behind plasterboard for years before making itself known.

To reduce my risk, I limited my search to newer apartments and units, hoping that age might mean fewer moisture issues. The sad reality, however, is that even new homes frequently struggle with mould. Our regulations around humidity control and condensation prevention are, frankly, backwards. Even brand-new homes can — and do — suffer from mould, particularly when poorly detailed or built with steel frames without proper moisture management. But that’s a topic for another post entirely.

Newer Homes, Old Problems

I lost count of how many “new” or “near-new” places I inspected — most around three to five years old. What shocked me wasn’t just the lack of comfort, but how quickly these homes had deteriorated.

Taps, fixtures and finishes already looked tired. Carpets were fraying and falling apart. Laminate finishes were peeling — especially in bathrooms and laundries. That alone tells a story: too much humidity, poorly managed, over time.

Externally, the same pattern appeared. Chipped tiles. Cracked paving. Render peeling away. In so many cases, it was clear that the cheapest possible materials had been selected, with little thought given to durability, maintenance or long-term performance.

And then there’s heating and cooling. Inefficient systems. The cheapest appliances available. All of which consume a lot of energy — energy that renters pay for, without the option to offset costs with solar panels.

Solar is still incredibly rare in rental housing. While around half of owner-occupied homes now have rooftop solar, rental properties lag far behind. The split incentive problem is real — and renters are the ones paying the price.

Finding “The Best of a Bad Bunch”

Eventually, after a long and frustrating search, I found a unit that ticked many of the boxes — at least on paper.

A single-storey unit at the back of a small block of three. Three modest bedrooms, two bathrooms, a small garden. Built in 2022. And thankfully, whoever built it did put care into the finishes. Things are done properly.

Good-quality products were used. It looks nice and feels pleasant.

But when it comes to climate-responsive design and summer comfort, it’s about as bad as it gets.

A Case Study in How Not to Design for Heat

Despite being relatively new, the unit completely ignores passive solar principles.

• Black roof tiles
• Black brick walls
• No overhangs
• No external shading

The result? Even on a mild day — say 24°C outside — the internal temperature climbs to 27–28°C by 11am.

On hotter days, my daughter’s bedroom becomes a sauna. Temperatures regularly exceed 30°C in the morning. Even with air-conditioning running (every room has its own unit — which suggests the builder knew this would be an issue), it can be hard to keep the space below 28°C during heatwaves.

Without air-conditioning, internal temperatures sit well above 30°C, even when it’s “only” 28°C outside.

This is exactly the scenario Professor Pfautsch and others are warning us about: homes that look fine, meet minimum compliance, but become unhealthy and uncomfortable as soon as conditions shift outside historical norms.

This Was Entirely Avoidable

What does this tell us?

There is massive scope for improvement — and much of it wouldn’t have cost more.

Even if we take Passive House and high-performance standards out of the equation, there were simple, low-cost design decisions that would have made this home far more liveable:

• Choosing a light-coloured roof instead of black
• Avoiding dark brickwork on all façades
• Installing insulation properly (I strongly suspect what’s there was done poorly)
• Reducing glazing — every room has full-width, full-height glass
• Designing for cross-ventilation (there is none)
• Adding overhangs or shading to protect windows
• Including fly screens, so windows and doors can be safely opened at night

None of these are radical ideas. None require advanced technology. They simply require care, knowledge, and an understanding of building physics.

Where This Leaves Me — and Why It Matters

I’m grateful I found a place that is well built and thoughtfully finished. And I’m slowly adjusting to higher internal temperatures — working away at a cosy 26°C 😉

But this experience has reinforced something I already knew professionally, and now feel personally:

Climate change isn’t just something we model in spreadsheets or discuss at conferences.

It’s something people are already living with — inside their homes.

If we don’t raise the baseline for how we design and build housing — especially rental housing — we’re locking in health risks, energy stress and discomfort for decades to come.

And that’s not a future problem.

It’s happening right now.

Why This Is Also a Policy Problem

This experience also highlights a deeper issue: the gap between minimum compliance and genuinely liveable housing — particularly in the rental sector. Too many homes meet the letter of the code while failing the people who live in them. Minimum standards around insulation, shading, ventilation, moisture control and overheating risk remain far too low, and enforcement is inconsistent at best. Renters rarely have the power to retrofit or improve the homes they live in, yet they bear the health and energy-cost consequences of poor design. If we are serious about climate resilience, public health and housing equity, we need rental standards that reflect real-world conditions — not outdated climate assumptions. Homes should protect people during heatwaves, not amplify risk. Raising minimum performance standards isn’t about gold-plating housing; it’s about ensuring that everyone, regardless of tenure, can live in a home that is safe, healthy and fit for a warming climate.

Why Mandatory Energy Ratings for Rentals Matter

This is also why mandatory energy ratings for rental properties would be so powerful. If renters could clearly see how a home performs — in terms of heat, energy use and comfort — they could make far more informed decisions. Transparency would change the market dynamic. Homes that are better designed, better insulated and cheaper to run should be easier to lease and, ideally, command a fair premium. Poorly performing homes, by contrast, would be harder to rent — or would need to be priced accordingly. How refreshing would it be if comfort, health and performance actually mattered in rental listings?

Of course, the reality is more complicated. We’re in the middle of a housing crisis, and demand far outweighs supply. In many places, renters simply don’t have a choice. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t aspire to better. Mandatory ratings would at least shine a light on performance, create accountability, and start shifting expectations — even if the market takes time to catch up.

From Awareness to Action

Ultimately, better housing outcomes won’t come from individual effort alone. They require systemic change — stronger minimum standards, clearer information for renters, and a shared understanding that housing is critical infrastructure for health, not just an asset class. Climate-ready, healthy homes shouldn’t be a niche or a luxury. They should be the baseline.

A Call to Action

If there’s one thing this experience has reinforced for me, it’s this: we already know how to build better. The knowledge exists. The tools exist. What’s missing is the will to apply them consistently — especially in the rental sector. Whether you’re a designer, builder, policymaker, landlord or homeowner, we all have a role to play in lifting the standard of housing in Australia. Because as our climate changes, the cost of doing nothing — in health, comfort and resilience — is far greater than the cost of doing better.