Every parent tells his kids not to bellyache, but when the housing market comes up, that’s all millennials and zoomers can seem to do, even in Michigan.
Type “housing” into the X search bar and you instantly see people complaining about zoning rules, fever dreaming about a housing collapse triggered by Trump’s tariffs, and bemoaning the fact that whatever mortgage they could get will be twice as costly as their parents’.
Zillow and other house-hunting apps—mental-illness incubators for young people—make all this worse. Few people scroll the Gucci website for clothes they can’t afford, but it’s a common diversion to luxuriate over a home far outside your salary bracket.

This Walter Mitty pastime has fed grievance culture. Aspiring homeowners long for the housing market their grandparents enjoyed, and if they can’t have it, well, then the president must act, empires must crumble, the free market must be broken!
These dreamers want a half-acre in a walkable neighborhood, an old house with charm and plenty of electric outlets. Oh, and new stainless-steel appliances or it’s a no-go.
In short, the lookie-loos are searching for a fantasy, and so live in a state of constant disappointment.
Our politicians feed the narrative that the housing market is impossible. Gov. Gretchen Whitmer during her state of the state speech last month proposed spending $2 billion (!) to develop 11,000 units of “affordable housing”—basically unprofitable taxpayer-subsidized apartments and duplexes.
How about instead of throwing our money at balding property developers, we plop a bunch of double-wides on the vacant acres of Detroit’s west side? That’s real affordable housing.
And, given that our state ranks 49th in population growth, our “housing crisis” doesn’t exactly pass the smell test.
The truth is that if you live in Michigan and can find stable and gainful employment, you can likely buy a home. The average house in Michigan is about $240,000, 1,600 square feet, and was built in the mid-1960s. It could be a hell of a lot worse.
You might only be able to afford an apartment, or your home might only have a single bath, or a carport instead of a garage, but you can find something if you want it badly enough.
But the whiners don’t want a house, not really. They want to air their grievances, to further fuel their desires, to derive comfort from complaint. The added bonus is that these grievances provide cover for getting an art degree, taking out a loan on a new car at age 22, and flying to Disney World every year.
What would a young person do if his primary goal were homeownership? He would work as much as possible for the highest wage he could, save his money, get really friendly with a mortgage broker, and go to open houses for cheap homes with an open mind and dreams of sweat equity.
What would he not do? Sign up for push notifications from an app that makes you feel that the world was not made for your generation.
Say what you will about income-to-home value ratios, the financialization of the housing market and whatnot, but on a historical level, it’s almost never been easier to buy a home. When many of our ancestors came to Michigan in the 1920s and 1930s to work in auto plants, down payments were almost always 50%—a far cry from the 5% down first-time homebuyers qualify for today.

Sure, we pay for our homes for 30 years, but we don’t need to scrimp for 20 years to start climbing the housing ladder.
For many, homeownership is a key to the American Dream. Thankfully, American history has long bent toward everyone getting a shot at it.
The next time someone tells you that the housing market is broken, show him some photos of just how nice they make trailer homes these days. His reaction will tell you whether or not he’s serious.
Mark Naida is editor of Michigan Enjoyer.