In a summer that has already delivered its fair share of unexpected headlines, the news that Angela Rayner, Britain’s Deputy Prime Minister and Housing Secretary, has bought a seaside flat in Hove has ignited a political and media firestorm. The purchase, which reportedly cost £800,000 and was secured with the help of a mortgage, has thrust Rayner’s personal life into the spotlight, prompting accusations of hypocrisy from opposition politicians and a wave of commentary on class, privilege, and the realities of the UK’s housing crisis.
Rayner, who already owns a family home in her Ashton-under-Lyne constituency—bought for £375,000 in 2016 and now valued at £650,000—also has the use of a rent-free, government-provided flat in Admiralty House, Westminster. The latter, a grace-and-favour apartment once home to Winston Churchill, is a perk of her ministerial position and will be relinquished when she leaves government. With the addition of the Hove property, some critics have gleefully dubbed her “Three Pads Rayner,” a nickname that has stuck in headlines and social media alike, as reported by the Daily Mail.
The controversy, however, is not simply about the number of homes Rayner possesses. Instead, it centers on the perceived contradiction between her personal property dealings and the stance of her department on the impact of second homes. As the Daily Mail and other outlets have pointed out, Rayner’s own housing ministry has repeatedly warned of the negative consequences that second homes and short-term lets can have on local communities—driving up prices, reducing the availability of housing for residents, and straining local services. Housing minister Matthew Pennycook, a junior minister in Rayner’s department, has spoken in Parliament about the “negative impacts of excessive concentrations of short-term lets and second homes,” which affect “local services” and “the availability and affordability of homes for local residents to buy and rent.”
Labour leader Sir Keir Starmer has also highlighted these issues, warning that second homes “can impact the availability and affordability” of local properties. Under Labour’s watch, councils have been given powers to double council tax on second homes, a policy originally introduced by the Conservatives but now supported by Rayner’s department as a tool to address housing shortages in popular areas.
Given this context, Conservative politicians and right-leaning commentators have seized on Rayner’s seaside purchase as evidence of double standards. Dame Priti Patel, the shadow Foreign Secretary, was quick to comment: “One rule for this condescending hypocritical Labour minister, and a totally different set of rules for the hard-pressed taxpaying silent majority.” Reform UK’s deputy leader Richard Tice was even more direct, stating, “Rayner is the Everest of hypocrisy. She laments a housing shortage, wants to soak the rich, whilst selfishly building her own property mountain.”
Beyond the political barbs, the coverage has taken on a distinctly personal tone. Neighbours in Hove have spotted Rayner enjoying her new surroundings, kayaking, walking with her partner Sam Tarry, and sipping wine on the beach. Some locals have voiced frustration, with one beachgoer telling the Daily Mail, “Makes me laugh, all these Lefties with their second homes. No, it doesn’t make me laugh, it actually makes me angry. My three grandchildren have all got good jobs but none can get on the property ladder.”
Yet, as The Guardian and other left-leaning outlets have noted, the outrage over Rayner’s property portfolio appears to be tinged with class prejudice. Rayner, who grew up on a council estate in Stockport, left school at 16, and became a teenage mother, has long been a target for such criticism. Her attendance at the Glyndebourne opera festival in 2022—where she was photographed enjoying a glass of champagne—was similarly derided as evidence of hypocrisy. The underlying message, some argue, is that working-class politicians should not aspire to, or enjoy, the trappings of success that are taken for granted among their more privileged peers.
“Rayner riles Britain’s snobs because she refuses to abide by the confines of long-standing class hierarchies,” wrote one columnist in The Guardian. “She has torn down boundaries, smashed through glass ceilings, and refuses to accept that a Stockport lass who has done well for herself has any less right to be quaffing champagne while listening to Puccini or splashing out on a nice holiday flat for herself than anybody else.”
The debate has also highlighted a broader issue: the prevalence of property ownership among Members of Parliament. More than one in eight MPs are landlords, a fact that raises questions about the objectivity of Parliament when it comes to addressing the housing crisis. Former Chancellor Jeremy Hunt, for example, reportedly owns seven buy-to-let properties in Southampton, as well as homes in Pimlico, Surrey, and Italy. Nadhim Zahawi, another senior Conservative, was reported to have over £25 million in property holdings. Kevin Hollinrake, the current Conservative Party chairman, receives rental income from five properties in York. Despite these extensive portfolios, such arrangements rarely attract the same level of scrutiny or accusations of hypocrisy as those aimed at Rayner.
Labour allies have defended Rayner’s decision, insisting the Hove flat was purchased as a practical base for her work and not as a business venture. A Labour spokesperson told the Daily Mail, “We are not in the business of restricting people’s ability to own property, but we’re clear that rights come with responsibilities.” Backbencher Catherine Atkinson added on GB News, “Certainly, when it comes to national policy, what’s important is that we are building the 1.5 million homes that this country needs and that this Government is taking clear steps to do. I’m not really sure that Angela Rayner’s housing situation is particularly relevant to that.”
The row has even revived past controversies, with opponents pointing out that Rayner previously made a £48,500 profit selling her ex-council house, which she purchased under the right-to-buy scheme—a policy she now seeks to restrict. For her critics, this history only adds to the charge of inconsistency. For her supporters, it is further evidence of a double standard, where working-class politicians are held to a higher level of scrutiny than their wealthier counterparts.
Ultimately, the story of Angela Rayner’s seaside flat is about more than one politician’s property choices. It is a window into Britain’s ongoing struggles with class, privilege, and the deep-seated challenges of the housing market. The debate over who gets to own what—and who gets to judge—shows no sign of fading soon.
