Marketing-Leadership-Policy And Our Homelessness Crisis

Our homelessness crisis isn’t a distant issue, it’s a reflection of systemic gaps, public blindspots and leadership opportunity.

This article calls out to professionals, policymakers and content creators to use their influence, skills and compassion to reshape how we see, talk about and address homelessness in Australia and just maybe, across the whole world.

1. A Call to See the Invisible: The Backstory.

Imagine driving into the city early on a crisp winter Monday morning. You’re coming off a great weekend with the family, filled with fun, laughter and leisure.

The quiet streets are dappled in soft morning light, and there’s a calm ambience about the city at this early hour. It’s a beautiful morning, with a gentleness unique to inner-city streets before the mad rush begins.

You’ve had a brilliant run into the city with mostly green lights and you’re feeling pretty great. As you pull up at a red light, your gaze lands on a woman sitting on a sheet of cardboard near a storefront.

As you watch, she rises and begins methodically gathering the few things she owns. She folds two tattered blankets, picks up her sheet of cardboard, and organizes her sparse belongings into an old weathered backpack with reverence, quiet, but purposeful.

Her ritual-like movements suggest she’s done this before. Perhaps this is her daily routine, carried out with careful grace, probably unnoticed by most.

I cannot hold back my emotions. My throat tightens, my eyes brim with tears as she caresses her worn blankets and few personal belongings with a care that hints at something sacred—a great deal of dignity.

At this point, I’m crying like a newborn baby. I can’t control it.

In witnessing her, I’m reminded of Shakespeare’s words to Horatio: “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

This woman is not an anomaly. She is one of at least 122,494 people in Australia experiencing homelessness every day of the year, part of a staggering 150 million+ globally.

As she begins to move toward her next location, the lights change and I have to drive on. Her image lingers, still fresh in my mind, and I find myself thinking: I’ve got to stop crying, I’ll be at the office in a few minutes.

As I approach the parking building, her image begins to fade, but I make a quiet promise to myself, as I remember something a colleague once said:

“You get what you accept.”

Well, I do not accept that this world has to be so divided. That lady’s situation is not just about economic hardship, it’s about policy failure at all three levels of government.

To me, she will always be a symbol of a deeper truth: that the social boundary separating “them” from “us” is wider than we realize.

2. The Invisible Narratives Behind Homelessness.

We live in a world that craves simple solutions. Break a problem into chunks, line up the actionable tasks and work through them in a logical sequence.

As good as we might be at problem-solving, many of us still fall for the myth that homelessness boils down to poor choices or personal failures.

But the truth, dear readers, is far more complex and far more human.

Behind every person without a home lies a chain of events that could test the resilience of anyone, including you.

For every individual or family we see in a situation that suggests they might be homeless, one or more stories may have contributed to their path.

One story might begin with a workplace injury. Chronic pain follows. Prescription medication becomes a dependency. Job loss sets in. Rent becomes unpayable. Government support is exhausted. And then comes eviction.

Another story might involve domestic violence. A third, untreated mental health challenges. A fourth might relate to economic downturns colliding with rising rents and stagnant wages.

These aren’t rare stories. They’re common. But still, they’re far too often ignored.

We pass them every day. On our early morning walk through the park, we might stroll past a family of four living in a tent.

As we finish our workout and head towards our car, we walk past an elderly couple sleeping in the vehicle parked beside us.  We pedal past. We drive past. We glance over them from the comfort of an air-conditioned train cabin. Somehow, we do this for years and convince ourselves their issues have nothing to do with us.

We need to stop telling ourselves we’re immune. Housing insecurity doesn’t discriminate by intelligence, education, profession, morals, military service, or sporting background.

The line between stability and crisis can be extremely thin—often invisible until it slices through. And then, it’s suddenly you living on the street, gathering your few belongings before the shopkeeper asks you to move on.

Shakespeare was right:

“There are more things in heaven and earth…”

Homelessness isn’t just about those people. It’s about substandard systems. It’s about leaders with the wrong qualities. It’s about three levels of government failing all of us.  

It’s also about our society, often blessed beyond imagination, choosing not to look.

3. We Are All Cut From the Same Cloth.

The myth of separation must be dismantled, the idea that “we” are fundamentally different from those experiencing homelessness is both convenient and dangerous.. It allows us to turn our heads, to protect our comfort. But it is untrue.

“We are all cut from the same cloth.”

Dignity doesn’t disappear due to a lack of an address. Intelligence, kindness, creativity, and potential survive long after stability is lost.

That woman arranging her things by the shopfront could once have been a teacher, an executive, a nurse, a mechanic, a parent.

The question is not who they were. The question is why we stopped seeing who they are.

To tackle homelessness meaningfully, we must shed the illusion of distance and accept that the issues affecting “them” also reflect the vulnerabilities of “us.”

This recognition does not romanticize hardship. It demands empathy, policy reform, and collective effort.

4. Time: The Currency of Compassion.

When faced with complex social challenges, society often reaches for its wallet and that’s a beautiful thing, because yes, money matters a lot.

But what most powerfully transforms lives, more often than not, is something harder to give: time. It’s when you take the time to listen, to learn and to act.

Volunteering with Angel Flight, Wandering Warriors, or missions like the Reverend Bill Crews Foundation isn’t a one-off gesture, it’s an investment in relationships, understanding and trust.

As Reverend Bill has shown across decades of service, change happens not just through programs, but through presence.

Being consistently seen and heard heals. Listening without judgment repairs. Acknowledging someone’s full humanity builds bridges that policy alone cannot.

Conversely, time has a way of revealing uncomfortable truths: homelessness is not a personal problem, it’s systemic.

As we devote attention to this issue, we begin to see how culture, capitalism, policy and apathy converge, often unintentionally, sometimes knowingly to perpetuate suffering.

From that understanding flows responsibility. Especially for those with influence.

5. Cataloguing Stories, Building Solutions.

Prevention begins with understanding. Each story of housing instability is a case study in systems failure, and a roadmap for what to fix.

Marketers, storytellers, communicators: we hold a unique and essential power. We specialize in decoding human behavior.

We craft messages that move hearts, drive engagement, and shape change.

So what if we utilized our professional skillset into one of the most urgent briefs of our generation?

What if we used market research to map the pathways that lead to housing instability? 

What if we applied branding strategy to shine a light on the advocacy groups doing the hard work?

What if we elevated unheard voices, reshaped public perception, and influenced the decision-makers shaping housing policy?

This isn’t about charity marketing, it’s about applying our craft toward systemic change.  Communication is power. The question is: for what are we using it?

6. A Message to Leaders and Institutions.

While individuals can offer kindness and action, leaders have the power to reshape the system itself.  Policymakers, CEOs, institutional heads: your challenge is clear. The structures you uphold can either protect the vulnerable, or expose them to greater harm.

This isn’t about ideology. It’s about human impact.

Policies that make housing unaffordable, services inaccessible, or support entangled in impossible bureaucracy actively contribute to homelessness.

So do business decisions that prioritize short-term profits over employment stability and mental health support.  We must reject the notion that economic growth justifies human despair.

No corporate strategy, political agenda, or reform package is acceptable if it disregards the wellbeing of those already living on the edge.

This isn’t just a moral issue. It is a leadership crisis.

Those with power must use it not to preserve the status quo, but to create systems that empower, include, heal and rebuild.

7. The Ripple Effect of Compassion.

True change begins with a shift in perspective: homelessness isn’t “someone else’s problem,” but a reflection of our collective responsibility.

Angel Flight and Transcare demonstrate how logistical support and community care can bridge gaps when traditional systems falter.

Coffee for Heroes proves that simple recognition can nourish the spirit. Wandering Warriors restores purpose to veterans. These aren’t band-aid fixes; they’re beacons lighting the path forward.  Yet compassion cuts both ways. When we turn away, choosing avoidance, judgment, or distance, we quietly erode the social fabric we all depend on.

A society that withholds empathy from its most vulnerable risks losing its own soul, venturing into the very kind of living hell that faith traditions have long warned against.  After all, as one ancient text asks, what does it profit a people to gain the world and forfeit their soul?

Let us choose compassion, before the ripples we send become the chasms we cannot bridge.

8. The Time to Act Is Now.

Let’s return to those two grounding truths:

“There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” “We are all cut from the same cloth.”

I ask you: What kind of society are we creating, and what role will you play in it?

Whether you’re a marketing professional, a CEO, a policymaker, a university student, or someone searching for meaning, your voice matters.

Your platform matters. Your attention matters.

No one expects you to solve homelessness alone. But you can start today by seeing it clearly, by questioning your assumptions and by truly listening.

Use your time, skills, and reach to raise awareness, advocate for change, support the invisible, and re-imagine what’s possible.

To those in power:

Are your policies creating safety or stress?

Are your marketing strategies fostering empathy or exclusion?

Are your decisions part of the solution or the problem?

Remember: homelessness isn’t simply a lack of housing. It’s a lack of belonging, power, and visibility.

The woman by the storefront folding her things with sacred dignity taught me to see more deeply and question what I thought I knew.  If we let her story transform us, we begin to see not just her, but ourselves and choose differently.

This isn’t about charity. It’s about justice, building a world where every human being is seen, supported and valued; where dignity is honored, not earned.

The challenge is real and the time is short but the opportunity to transform lives stands before us.  We are all stitched into the same human fabric and it’s about time we started to act like it.