Earlier this year, John, a seasoned professional with a major firm, decided it was time for a leap. The stock market had been climbing steadily, financial headlines were full of optimism, and investor sentiment seemed to signal a revitalised economy. And John was getting increasingly tired of feeling left out. So, convinced that growth had returned, he left his stable job to join a consumer–facing start‑up.

Six weeks later, John was unemployed.

The start‑up’s sales projections were built on an assumed rebound in household demand, but real personal consumption expenditures had stalled. Delinquency rates on credit‑card loans were climbing toward the highest level recorded since the early 2020s, and unemployment‑insurance claims had been trending upward since April. Meanwhile, corporate profits after tax had registered their first significant drop in more than two years, and real exports had flattened.

John’s decision was shaped by a popular narrative: when equities rise, the economy must be healthy. That narrative is both persistent and dangerous.

Earlier this year, my wife and I made what should’ve been a simple request: a short-term lease extension while we explored buying a home. We loved our apartment. Paid rent on time. We weren’t just tenants; we were good ones. Reliable, respectful, well-liked by the front office.

So when we asked about continuing our lease month to month, or even for just a few extra months, we expected at least a conversation.

What we got was a price sheet.

The cost to stay? A 90% increase. No negotiation. No consideration of our payment history or community ties. Just a single line: “This is what the system says.”

We later found out that “the system” wasn’t just a euphemism for company policy. It was a literal pricing algorithm, an increasingly common, powerful force in the U.S. housing market that determines rent levels with zero human judgment, and even less empathy.

That single moment, when we were told we could pay twice as much for reduced housing security, triggered a months-long period of research and reflection. Why is renting becoming so unaffordable and unaccountable? What do renters truly need to know?

Turns out, what seems like irrational pricing is actually part of a deeply rational, if disturbing, system. One that’s engineered for growth, not fairness. And one that’s making it harder than ever for everyday families to afford a place to live, let alone save to buy one.

Late last year, I paid off a student loan—not with lottery winnings or a flashy promotion, just consistent payments over time. A quiet milestone, sure, but one that felt like an upward step toward financial freedom. Then, two days later, I got the alert: my credit score had plummeted. Dozens of points gone overnight. The reason? I had closed out a loan. No missed payments. No defaults. Just a responsible, completed obligation. And somehow, I was penalized for it.