Homelessness is a visible reality in many Western and non-Western cities, yet public reactions to it vary widely. Some people offer help, while others avoid interaction altogether. Beyond these everyday encounters lies a broader issue: how governments, citizens, and social media shape society’s perception and treatment of homeless individuals.
Online, there seems to be a growing trend of vloggers and so-called influencers offering money and food to homeless people. Walk down any high street in the UK, and there’s a good chance you’ll see someone filming rough sleepers. In the US, a similar pattern appears. Content creators film themselves ordering large amounts of food in restaurants. They’ll then stage tests to see if staff will feed nearby homeless people.
Maybe I’m cynical, but it’s hard not to see through it. Digestible, quick videos seem to reflect the superficial attitudes towards the homeless; compassion in short, forgettable doses. This brand of performative altruism reflects a wider issue of how homelessness is engaged with in the West: attention and empathy often seem conditional on being watched. When the cameras are off, so too is the concern.
Homelessness exists in every society, but attitudes toward homeless people vary dramatically. Across much of the West, many people see homelessness as the consequence of poor choices or personal shortcomings. Elsewhere, societies are more likely to link it to economic inequality, housing shortages, or social instability. These perceptions carry weight.
The question is not only how homeless people survive, but how the rest of society chooses to see them.
Homelessness: An Unthinkable Fate?
In the West, many people view homelessness as a worst-case scenario. A fate so frightening that they imagine it only happens to others. Yet politicians, commentators, and activists often turn homelessness into a talking point, overshadowing the human experiences behind it.
In recent years, homelessness has become intertwined with debates over immigration, public spending, and national identity. Debatably, governments are willing to invest resources elsewhere, while failing to support citizens sleeping rough on their own streets. Whether these claims are justified or not, such arguments often overshadow the people at the centre of the issue.
Lost amid political debates is a more important question: how does society actually view homeless people? Do people see them as victims of circumstances beyond their control, or as symbols of personal failure? The perceptions vary across countries and individuals, but strongly shape how homeless people are treated. If they are perceived as victims, they receive support. However, if they are believed to be at fault, they face stigma.
Rather than a symbol or a talking point, homelessness persists as one of the most pertinent problems. In America and the United Kingdom, deep systemic issues remain.
Transatlantic treatment
In both nations, society recognises homelessness as a social issue. One that deserves support, yet many authorities still treat homeless people as a problem to be managed.
Nowhere is this contradiction more visible than in the rise of anti-homeless architecture: benches designed to prevent sleeping, spikes placed in sheltered areas, and urban spaces deliberately designed to move people on. While often justified as measures to improve safety or public order, critics argue that such designs send a clear message about who is welcome in public spaces and who is not.
Government responses reveal a similar tension. Both nations’ governments invest in shelters, charities, and support programmes, yet policies aimed at restricting rough sleeping or removing homeless encampments continue to generate controversy.
In Britain, a culture of suspicion has developed around homelessness. Stories of ‘fake beggars’ frequently circulate online and in tabloid headlines, creating an atmosphere in which genuine hardship is often met with doubt. Even when homelessness is acknowledged as real, many people have become accustomed to looking away.
This attitude seems to be conferred by the architecture. In the UK, hostile architecture has become more common in the past decade. It refers to any public space intentionally designed to restrict the movement or comfort of anyone sleeping rough. It can be as slight as a curved bench or jagged surface beneath a makeshift roof.
Eva Wiseman for The Guardian continues this point –
‘As if it isn’t dangerous, traumatic, or humiliating enough to sleep on the street, you not only face punishment for doing so, but the architecture (in Britain) itself is also designed to move you on. A steel and concrete reminder that you are unwelcome here, a project in erasure.’
Suffice to say, there is a shared transatlantic dilemma: should homelessness should be addressed primarily through welfare and housing support, or through measures that reduce its visibility? The answer often reflects broader societal attitudes.
Similar trends appear in America, too. Though their homelessness is tied to the recent fentanyl epidemic, they too share hostile architecture in metropolitan cities. The same types of hostile architecture we see in the UK is apparent in the states too.
How people are using the homeless
For me, any growing social consensus seen online feels somewhat facetious. While altruistic acts can undoubtedly help those in need, it often seems that many content creators who help homeless people do so as much for their own image as for the people they are assisting. The aspiration, in many cases, appears less about addressing homelessness and more about projecting a personal brand or boosting their own ego.
This type of content keeps popping up across my social media. What might seem like an innocent attempt to help those in need is a grossly misplaced use of power. There is a sad irony in how social media engagement has been tied to a falsified empathy.
The trick missed by these people is the room for their own egos to be inflated. You can see it in the comment sections, in the shameless hashtags, and the aforementioned millennial pause (seriously, look out for it). Donating not just money, but the time and patience to help out in local communities benefits just as much, but with the cameras off.
Beyond the west
Many other nations across the world have drastically lower rates of homelessness than the UK and the US. I would estimate culture plays one of the biggest parts.
Japan, for instance, celebrates a kind of collectivism. Inherent in their culture is the ethos that working together breeds a harmonious life.
Something BBC journalist Miriam Frankel observed was how “non-westerners are more likely to experience ‘other-focused’ emotions that promote social harmony.” It’s not to say that the West is sociopathic, but that these values are more apparent in non-Western cultures.
Japan has kept homelessness at remarkably low levels compared with many Western nations. Japanese employers, communities, and public authorities prioritise work and self-sufficiency, and this cultural emphasis helps limit visible homelessness to a small fraction of the population—around 0.02%. However, this same expectation also shapes how people respond to visible poverty, and many Japanese citizens associate being unhoused with personal shame.
A counter-argument could be that one of the reasons Japan appears to have relatively low visible homelessness rates is the strong social stigma attached to it. Like many other taboo aspects of culture, Japan’s emphasis on social conformity and avoiding public shame may discourage people from being openly identified as homeless, pushing some individuals into less visible forms of homelessness instead.
Japan also hides its homeless. In the video below, it is highlighted how, in combination with police enforcement and hostile architecture, they are quietly shunned.
Even in places where the levels of poverty are starkly lower, we still see a type of social rejection. In Japan, this is represented by the government. The video above shows that there isn’t room for homelessness in Eastern society. When it occurs, these people are shunned away from the bustling communities and pushed into segregated communities.
There is no definitive mode to tackle poverty. But when we look at other cultures, we illuminate what our own may lack.
New era of compassion
Nobody has a concrete solution for homelessness. As morbid as that sounds, like all societal epidemics, there remains no solid deterrent.
Broader contexts of short, attention-grabbing videos feel like a good way to discover the modern take on homelessness. To many, it feels far away; a method to further marginalise rough sleepers by using their circumstance as an attempted revenue.
However, a new type of compassion may help us in the West. Being a citizen of the world is one way we can all hold a deeper compassion. We are connected to everyone, not just our nationality or the people we connect with daily. Humanity’s origins are irrefutably traced back to one place. Though faith and belief dictate the reasons, there is an undeniable origin we all share.
Taking the time to do what you can at any given time in your life to help is admirable. Don’t film the homeless, have a conversation, volunteer, and never trade compassion for performative altruism.
Maybe…who knows. Take a few deep breaths, take that millennial pause, and try your best.
