You’re not a landlord. You’re a carer/nurse/friend/reformer

How did she do it? Well, she got some medical and social welfare help, but the thing that really made the difference was, in her words that “for the first time I have a home”.

I’ll be realistic: it isn’t a very good flat and it’s not in a very good location; but to her it is great. It’s warm; it’s filled with new furniture that she had a hand in choosing; it’s complete, from the cooker to the salt and pepper set. She has some control over the fundamental things in her life and a sense of ownership; she is building a life there for herself with her cat to keep her company.

Liverpool now has more than 1000 furnished council homes – some 5% of the authority’s stock. Why bother offering an empty flat to someone with no means of fitting it out? It makes business sense, too. Fitting out the flat with the Furniture Resource Centre Group costs less than £20 a week – far less than the cost of a visit to a doctor and a handout of methadone.

Sometimes, of course, tenants try to flog the furniture, but rarely. If they get good stuff they generally respect it, themselves and the council by caring for it.

At Liverpool, as other councils have done, we have merged the positions of cabinet member for housing and social services. This makes absolute sense to me because the vast majority of people being cared for by registered social landlords and housing departments are, or have been, supported by one branch or another of our caring services. It is when all these work together that they are able to help turn people’s lives around.

Many readers will already know my theory that there should be no such thing as a housing provider. There may well be service providers specialising in caring activities using housing as a tool, but I believe housing as a specialist discipline and as a specialist career is as dead as the dodo.

We may care for neighbourhoods and pick up the patch responsibilities of area-based management and redevelopment – we can do that better than anyone because we know our tenants, and their needs, because of our frequent interaction with them.

There should be no such thing as a housing provider; I believe housing, as a specialist discipline and as a specialist career, is as dead as the dodo

We may provide a service to the homeless, enabling them to pick up shattered lives and establish themselves in the context of a neighbourhood and a community – we can do that best because we deal with the immediate needs and make the immediate contact that can be used to develop more lasting relationships.

We may care for the elderly, running all the domiciliary and home care services they need from our specialist sheltered housing units. Too often superbly equipped facilities are used for a couple of hours a week when they could be the focus of wider use and attention.

We may be medical providers, ensuring that people in need are kept healthy not just by expensive pills and potions but also by warm homes, a caring environment and a healthy lifestyle. More people’s lives have been extended by warm homes, clean water and effective sewage disposal than any combination of drugs and surgery.

But I don’t think that most public sector housing providers see themselves in this way.

RSL chief executives and housing cabinet members measure themselves by their size: how many units have you got? What’s your development budget? How great is your turnover? Very few judge themselves by the impact they make on the lives of the people they house outside the bricks and mortar.

Dealing with the fundamentals of the lives of people in need should not be just for specialist providers but for every person in housing.