June 2022: memorial to the victims of the Grenfell tower five years after the fire. Jessica Girvan/shutterstock.com.
Part Two of our investigation into the far-reaching consequences of the Grenfell Tower disaster. New laws were passed but much still needs to be done…
The appalling tragedy of the Grenfell fire, with 72 lives lost, more than 70 injured, continuing trauma for survivors, and long-term health disorders for firefighters present, can hardly be overstated.
Tragic as it was, the fire acted as a catalyst for potential change. The 2024 report which brought the Grenfell Inquiry to a close exposed with utmost clarity a corrupt and incestuous public building culture, operating in plain sight, which imperilled the entire population. It was a watershed moment.
Upgrading the regulatory system became a matter of urgency even as the Inquiry was taking place. Laws were passed – the Fire Safety Act of 2021, the Building Safety Act 2022, and the Social Housing (Regulation) Act 2023 applying to England – and similar laws for Scotland and Wales.
Multinational conglomerates and their British subsidiaries, such as Pittsburgh-based Arconic and French-owned Celotex, as well as County Antrim-based Kingspan Insulation, knew UK regulation was weak. Arconic “deliberately concealed” the danger of using the cladding.
Arconic tried to hide behind foreign law. It claimed that its employees could face prosecution under French law if they provided evidence to the Inquiry. (The French government said they wouldn’t.) Celotex made “false and misleading claims” about the suitability of its insulation. Kingspan failed to reveal the limitations of its product.
Shockingly, the fire risk sector was completely unregulated, encouraging undercutting and acceptance of unprofessional levels of pay. Anyone could invent qualifications to make themselves out to be a fire engineer or a fire risk assessor.
One of these impostors advised the finance-obsessed Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea.
The Inquiry found that he had no understanding of the composition of the cladding: it was labelled “fire rated” (a meaningless term) so he simply assumed without question that it was safe to use. It was in fact highly flammable aluminium composite material.
Leading up to the fire there had been confusion in the industry about British versus European standards for grading materials for high-rise buildings. The British Board of Agrément, which described itself as “the UK construction sector’s most trusted certifying body”, had produced misleading certificates. Kingspan and Celotex seized on them for deceptive marketing purposes.
After the fire Kingspan tried to prevent a ban on flammable materials by devising unorthodox tests intended to continue to mislead. The Inquiry described them as “science secretly perverted for financial gain”.
Incredible
It seems incredible with hindsight that for the first time under the 2021 Act combustible materials were banned by law from being attached to the outside of high-rise buildings. Over twenty years earlier the industry had warned that Britain risked becoming a dumping ground for unsafe materials. Under this law, the regulator (now part of the Office for Product Safety and Standards) has the power to take construction products off the market and to prosecute non-compliant companies.
A previous change in the law in 2005 reduced fire service inspections and shifted responsibility to building owners. And that regulation applied only to non-residential working environments. Yet fire risk in residential tower blocks was known since the Ronan Point gas explosion of 1968. Government had been asleep at the wheel for decades.
‘Without tighter regulations the conditions for corrupt practices had ripened to bursting point…’
The question still arises: Why didn’t local councils and the fire service use even the limited powers of inspection and enforcement they already had? The answer is partly a lack of personal and collective responsibility, but also that without tighter regulation the conditions for corrupt practices had ripened to bursting point. Local government, preoccupied with tick-box exercises, identity politics, and anything other than public safety, simply looked the other way.
Had a legal ban on flammable material been in place, there would have been no temptation for the council to save £800,000 on cladding. Cutting corners on interior work too, such as lift maintenance, ventilation, fire doors and compartmentation – factors in the fatal fire – might not have been such a temptation had effective regulation been in place.
New, safer, British Standards of design and construction were set out in 2022, with fire safety to be integrated at the planning stage. Like the unqualified risk assessor, the architect appointed by the council had no experience of aluminium composite material and asked no questions.
The 2022 Act established the role of Building Safety Regulator as part of the Health and Safety Executive. It provided for enhanced training for architects, engineers, and other construction professionals. Some recommendations are still out for consultation, such as criteria for a second escape stairwell.
Social housing
The third major piece of legislation, to regulate social housing, came into effect in 2024. That was in response both to the Grenfell fire and to the death of a two-year old child from exposure to mould. This law requires social housing landlords to appoint a dedicated health and safety lead to conduct fire risk assessments, deliver training, identify causes of a fire, and be the primary point of contact for fire safety issues.
But much of this new act is a rehash of previous regulation, dressed up as new and more forceful, with added self-serving “resident engagement” tick-box clauses. But it does shed light on the weakness of previous regulation.
Previously, regular inspections of council housing did not take place (certainly not of the Grenfell estate), and landlords had no powers to take emergency action (although Grenfell was a ticking time-bomb).
There was a clause in the old legislation known as the “serious detriment” rule, now removed. The regulator was able to claim that no serious detriment to the tenant was proved – a legitimate excuse for inaction. Only now can the regulator act “before people are put at risk”.
That change ought to be reassuring. But as in other areas, it’s far easier to set up regulation than it is to bring about effective enforcement. And as with other areas there is a network of regulators which often prevents action.
The social housing regulator has a toothless junior partner, the Housing Ombudsman, continuing from the previous regime and acting as a barrier between tenants and landlords.
And now the Ombudsman will itself be cushioned by an extra layer of bureaucracy, the Social Tenants’ Access to Information Scheme.
This scheme poses as the tenant’s right to hold the landlord to account. But if the tenant is still dissatisfied the case is passed back to the Housing Ombudsman. Tenants’ and leaseholders’ organisations will need to devise creative ways to exert control.
The most worthwhile legacy of Grenfell would be a desire on the part of our class to take responsibility for housing, in the realisation that capitalism kills. This means pushing for resources, not only to build more houses but to maintain the homes we’ have.
This also means being alert as a class to incompetence, becoming our own enforcers of professional standards and safety, insisting on national standards and well-regulated national manufacturing enterprises.
Building good quality houses and flats for social rent would help drive out the most exploitative landlords and end the stigma of social housing. But if we hand all responsibility to the authorities, the politicians and their regulators, we won’t get very far.
The residents of Grenfell demanded respect from their local council and got contempt: they were branded “troublemakers”. If we want to maintain a safe roof over our heads, we’ll all need to be prepared to make some trouble.