Creative Folkestone Tenancy Agreement: ‘Creative Connection’ and Gagging Clauses Under UK Renter and Consumer Law

Creative Folkestone describes itself as “an arts charity with a bold ambition: to make Folkestone a better place to live, work and visit through creativity.”

In the town’s Creative Quarter, that mission has taken physical form: around 80 flats, 115 studios and offices and more than 50 shops in about 90 restored buildings are let to artists, designers, filmmakers, web developers and other “creatives”, as part of a widely praised regeneration story.

But a new residential tenancy agreement being presented to some residents paints a very different picture of that creative utopia. In place of bohemian independence, the draft contract reads – in the words of tenants who have seen it – more like a behaviour manual, an HR appraisal form and a social media policy rolled into one, with the front door as the disciplinary office.

Tenants say they have been told they “need” to sign the new agreement, in part because of the forthcoming Renters’ Rights Act reforms. They describe repeated early-morning reminder emails, steep rent increases and a contract that feels “dystopian” and “designed to instil fear”. Those are their accounts; no court or regulator has made findings on them.

What follows is not a judgment and not legal advice. It is a critical but careful examination of a draft tenancy seen by The Shepway Vox Team read alongside publicly available housing and consumer law guidance, explaining why a number of clauses may be vulnerable, arguable or open to challenge – and why the overall package, for some, may feel more Nineteen Eighty-Four than art school by the sea.

Nothing here asserts that Creative Folkestone has acted unlawfully. Only a court or regulator can decide that.

A Tenancy With Strings Attached

The document in question is a proposed new Assured Shorthold Tenancy (AST) for Creative Folkestone’s residential properties. It describes itself as granted under the Housing Act 1988 and designed to operate “until amended by the Renters’ Rights Act 2025”.

On the surface, much of it is familiar: a fixed term, monthly rent, deposits, standard repair obligations and references to statutory rights.

Woven through, however, are some unusually intrusive provisions. In summary (using the gist rather than verbatim wording):

• The tenant’s “Creative Connection” – essentially their status as an artist, creative worker, creative start-up or educator – is defined, and the tenant must confirm in writing each year that it “remains unchanged”, notify the landlord immediately of any change, and “not occupy” the property at all unless it is maintained.

• A speech clause requires the tenant not to disseminate any “malicious comment or commentary” about the landlord via social media, publications or otherwise.

• A behaviour clause requires the tenant to treat the landlord’s staff and contractors with dignity and respect, with an explicit warning that abusive or discriminatory behaviour could lead to action under section 8 of the Housing Act 1988 (the statutory route for “fault-based” evictions).

• A crime / riot clause says the tenant is not to occupy where they, or people living with or visiting them, use the property for illegal or immoral purposes, are convicted of indictable offences in the locality, or are convicted of indictable offences at a riot anywhere in the UK.

• A legal-costs clause commits the tenant to paying the “full costs” of any action taken by the landlord for breach or possession, including court fees and “all other associated costs”.

• An “Insurance Rent” is introduced as a separate monthly charge, linked to the landlord’s buildings insurance, on top of the basic rent.

There is also a good deal of micro-management: rules on where kettles may be used, how items may be fixed to doors, and what must be done when guests stay. Individually, some of this is merely fussy. Taken together with the more sweeping terms, tenants say, it feels less like a straightforward housing contract and more like a rulebook for behaviour and loyalty.

Not Just Housing Law – Consumer Law Too

Because Creative Folkestone is a charity and company letting homes in the course of its activities, and the tenants are individuals renting for their own use, these agreements are not just “Housing Act contracts”. They are consumer contracts.

Under the Consumer Rights Act 2015 (CRA), a consumer is an individual acting mainly outside their trade or profession, and a trader is a business (which can include a charity) acting for purposes relating to its activities.

Local authority and legal guidance is clear that the CRA test of fairness applies to standard terms in tenancy agreements between landlords and residential tenants.

Section 62 CRA says an unfair term in a consumer contract is not binding on the consumer. A term is unfair if, “contrary to the requirement of good faith, it causes a significant imbalance in the parties’ rights and obligations” to the detriment of the consumer.

The Competition and Markets Authority (CMA) published guidance CMA37  on 31 July 2015 to help businesses understand the unfair contract terms provisions in the Consumer Rights Act 2015 (CRA). This detailed guidance on unfair terms in tenancy agreements – still relied on by regulators – stresses that landlords are usually in a stronger bargaining position, tenants often have little real choice but to accept “small print”, and clauses that go beyond what is reasonably needed to manage the property are especially at risk of being found unfair.

In other words: a landlord can write what it likes into a draft tenancy. But the law reserves the right to tear out anything that crosses the line into “significant imbalance”.

The “Creative Connection” Test: Renting A Role, Not Just A Home

Perhaps the most symbolic set of clauses is the “Creative Connection” requirement.

Creative Folkestone’s public materials are open about its model: the Creative Quarter was deliberately developed to regenerate a run-down part of town through creativity; around 80 flats and 115 studios and offices are let to “designers, filmmakers, musicians, web developers and artists of all kinds”.

There is nothing inherently controversial about a charity targeting tenancies at people who fit its objects. Almshouses, student accommodation and key-worker schemes do something similar.

What is unusual here is the way the condition continues throughout the tenancy and is framed as a bar on occupation itself. As summarised above, the tenant must confirm annually that their Creative Connection is unchanged, notify any change immediately and “not occupy” if it ceases.

On a straightforward reading, this could mean that if:

• a tenant’s health fails;

• a creative business collapses;

• caring responsibilities increase; or

• a low-paid artistic career simply stops paying the bills

their right to live in their home comes into question.

Courts have seen similar ideas before. In R M R Housing Society Ltd v Combs [1951] 1 KB 486, a tenancy clause made occupation conditional on the tenant being, and remaining, in the employment of a particular employer. When the landlord tried to use that as a ground for possession, the Court of Appeal held that the employment condition was a collateral personal obligation, not a tenancy obligation capable of supporting eviction.

Modern housing law commentary has long been sceptical about “extraneous” conditions – moral duties, lifestyle rules and personal targets – being used as levers to end tenancies, precisely because they do not relate directly to rent, nuisance or physical use of the property. Nearly Legal, a specialist housing law blog, has repeatedly highlighted the limits of such clauses.

Under consumer law, the concern is sharper still. A standard term that, in effect, says:

“Remain an approved type of creative, or you are not permitted to occupy your home”

is exactly the sort of provision likely to attract questions about “significant imbalance” and good faith under section 62 CRA.

To be fair, Creative Folkestone might say the clause simply gives effect to its charitable purpose and that, in reality, it exercises discretion. But contracts are written for bad days, not good ones. As drafted, the clause places almost all power with the landlord, and leaves tenants wondering whether a period of illness, burnout or non-creative work could, at least in theory, be treated as a contractual problem.

Lawyers would call that an imbalance. Many tenants might reach for a different formulation: “you’ll have creativity, comrade, or you’ll have the street.”

“Don’t Be Malicious” The Speech Clause

If the “Creative Connection” requirement is one pillar of control, the speech clause is another.

The draft term requires tenants not to disseminate any “malicious comment or commentary” about the landlord via social media, publications or otherwise.

At first glance, that might sound like a belt-and-braces reminder not to defame people. But defamation, harassment and hate speech already have legal remedies. What this clause does is create a contractual hook, defined only by the one word “malicious” – a word which the contract does not itself carefully define.

As a result:

• it is not clear whether “malicious” means knowingly false, merely unpleasant, or simply unwelcome;

• there is no express requirement that the comment be untrue;

• the term ranges from private social media posts to letters to the local press.

Housing lawyers have seen versions of this trend before. Nearly Legal’s commentary, for example, has taken aim at contracts that seek to stop occupiers blogging or complaining to councils, describing such wording as going well beyond what is reasonable and raising freedom-of-expression concerns.

Consumer-protection guidance for landlords and agents warns against “aggressive or deceptive practices” that might deter tenants from asserting their rights or seeking help.

Seen in that light, a broad “no malicious comment” term, backed by the threat of breach of contract, looks – at the very least – highly debatable. Even if courts, in practice, interpreted it narrowly so as to cover only knowingly false and vexatious allegations, its presence in a tenancy agreement is likely to have a chilling effect.

The message many tenants will hear is simple: “If you speak out in a way we don’t like, there could be consequences.” The law does not require tenants to be fans of their landlord, and honest criticism – particularly about housing conditions – is an important part of public accountability.

Insurance And The Tenant Fees Act: Who Pays The Premium?

The draft tenancy also introduces what is described as an “Insurance Rent”: a separate, compulsory charge linked to the landlord’s buildings insurance premium.

Here, the Tenant Fees Act 2019 comes into the picture. The Act, as now updated by statutory guidance following the Renters’ Rights Act, limits what landlords can require tenants or their guarantors to pay in connection with an assured shorthold tenancy. Among the prohibited payments are:

• requiring a tenant to enter into a contract with a third party for services, and

• requiring a tenant or guarantor to take out insurance.

Recent explanatory material for landlords and redress schemes gives a straightforward example: it is acceptable to recommend contents or liability insurance, but it is a prohibited fee if an insurance requirement is made a condition of the tenancy.

Creative Folkestone’s draft does not, as far as this article is aware, require tenants to sign a policy with a particular insurer. Instead, it appears to recover the cost of the landlord’s own buildings insurance through a mandatory additional payment.

There are a number of possible legal views about that structure. Some lawyers might argue that, provided the payment is clearly identified as part of the overall rent and not a fee for a separate product, it may fall within what the legislation allows as rent. Others may contend that a discrete “Insurance Rent” risks looking like a required payment “in connection with” an insurance arrangement and so may fall within the territory the Act was intended to curb. Parliamentary evidence on the Tenant Fees Bill and official guidance both emphasise that attempts to re-package prohibited fees in another guise are unlikely to be upheld.

Only a court or an enforcement authority could definitively decide which view is right in this specific case. This article does not attempt to do so. It does, however, note that passing 100% of a landlord’s insurance bill to tenants as a mandatory separate charge is exactly the sort of arrangement the Tenant Fees Act was designed to make everyone think very hard about.

From a lay perspective, a simple question suggests itself: if a charity benefits from peppercorn leases and public support precisely in order to provide “affordable” space, why are residential tenants being asked, effectively, to underwrite the building insurance on top?

“You Pay All Our Legal Costs”: The Big Stick

Another term requires the tenant to pay the full costs of any action for breach or possession – including court fees and “all other associated costs”.

Official guidance on unfair terms in tenancy agreements has long treated this kind of provision with suspicion. The former Office of Fair Trading’s booklet on unfair tenancy terms explains that clauses requiring a tenant to pay a landlord’s legal costs regardless of outcome are liable to be unfair because they:

• undermine the court’s power to decide who should bear costs; and

• deter tenants from defending claims or bringing their own.

More general commentary on unfair tenancy terms makes a similar point: any provision that exposes a tenant to “unnecessary and unreasonable costs” will be suspect.

Read literally, a “you pay all our costs” clause could be read as applying even where the tenant successfully defends a claim. In practice, a court is unlikely to enforce it that far. But again, the presence of such a term can be enough to frighten tenants away from asserting defences or counterclaims. It turns the justice system into something tenants may feel they cannot afford to test.

Under the CRA, if a court concluded that this kind of costs clause created a “significant imbalance” against the tenant, it could treat the term as unfair and not binding – leaving the rest of the tenancy intact.

Renters Rights Act 2025: Reform Or Sales Pitch

Renters’ Rights Act 2025: reform or sales pitch?

Tenants say one of the main reasons given for the new tenancy is that it is “in preparation” for the Renters’ Rights Act 2025 – the government’s flagship reform of the private rented sector.

The Act received Royal Assent on 27 October 2025.

The government’s implementation roadmap and subsequent legal commentary set out the broad timetable: from 1 May 2026, key reforms will start, including the abolition of section 21 “no-fault” evictions and the transition of existing and new private tenancies in England onto the new regime, with fixed-term assured shorthold tenancies eventually ending.

Guides aimed at landlords and agents emphasise that existing ASTs will be brought under the new system by operation of law in line with that timetable; the legislation does not, in itself, require tenants to sign brand-new ASTs now in order to be covered.

Consumer-protection guidance for the lettings sector stresses that landlords and agents must not mislead tenants about their legal rights, or present optional contractual choices as if they were legally compulsory.

To be clear: this article does not assert that Creative Folkestone has misled anyone, nor that any authority has made such a finding. It simply notes that, if tenants are left with the impression that the Renters’ Rights Act means they must accept more onerous terms now, some lawyers might argue that this sits uneasily alongside the official message that existing tenancies will move into the new framework automatically.

Put in plainer language: a law designed to strengthen renters’ rights should not quietly become the bogeyman used – even inadvertently – to hustle them into signing away more of them.

The Human Side: From “Creative Quarter” To Career Test

Behind all the legal architecture are human stories.

Creative Folkestone’s own materials and external case-studies celebrate its role in regenerating a once-neglected area: 90 buildings restored, about 80 flats and 115 studios and offices, hundreds of jobs, and a “thriving community” of creatives.

Many of the people living in those flats are on low or fluctuating incomes. They moved to Folkestone, they say, because the Creative Quarter promised an affordable place to experiment, fail, and try again.

Tenants report facing rent rises of up to several hundred pounds a month alongside the new contract. For some, they say, that means choosing between continuing their artistic work and covering basic living costs. One describes the experience as “like being told to paint faster while someone quietly sells off the canvas underneath you”.

Creative Folkestone’s public messaging speaks of a “remarkable record of success” in transforming the area and “making Folkestone a better place to live, work, play and visit”.

Set against that story, a tenancy that appears, on one reading, to say:

• “Remain exactly the type of creative we approve of, or lose your home.”

• “Do not publicly criticise us, or risk breaching your agreement.”

• “Pay not only rent and deposit, but also our insurance bill and our legal costs.”

carries a certain irony. It risks turning the celebrated “creative quarter” into something closer to a career test with rent attached.

This is not to say anyone sat down to design it that way. Some of the more contentious clauses may be the result of cautious drafting, template contracts and a desire to protect staff from abuse and properties from damage. But contracts do not just allocate risk; they also express values.

Here, the values many tenants say they hear are: we support creativity – as long as it behaves, pays up, keeps quiet and never stops performing.

What The Law Can (And Cannot) Do For Tenants

What the law can (and cannot) do for tenants

It is important to draw some careful distinctions.

First, the draft agreement still creates a tenancy. Tenants who sign it are not turned into rightless licensees. Core housing protections – including those in the Protection from Eviction Act 1977 and the Landlord and Tenant Act 1985 – continue to apply.

Secondly, no court has yet ruled on these particular clauses. Everything in this article about potential unfairness or statutory conflict is argument and opinion, not a statement of what a judge will decide.

Thirdly, the legal framework is not silent:

• Guidance from Shelter and others explains that unfair terms in tenancy agreements are not binding on tenants, and that a tenancy will otherwise continue.

• CRA section 62 means that terms which create a significant imbalance, contrary to good faith, can be disapplied by a court, even if they have been signed.

• The Tenant Fees Act, as updated by new statutory guidance following the Renters’ Rights Act, makes clear that any term requiring a prohibited payment is not binding, and that insurance-related requirements must be genuinely optional, not conditions of the tenancy.

• Case law like Combs shows a long-standing judicial reluctance to treat “stay in this job / role or get out” conditions as valid bases for possession.

Tenants who are concerned about the new contract should seek independent advice – from Shelter, Citizens Advice, a Law Centre or a housing solicitor – before signing and certainly before taking any steps that might affect their security of tenure. The key questions are not just “must I sign?” but also “if I sign, which clauses might still be challengeable later?”

Ultimately, only courts and enforcement authorities can convert any of these arguments into binding decisions. This article’s aim is more modest: to map the terrain and to highlight where the ground under certain clauses already looks, legally speaking, a bit marshy.

A Creative Town Deserves Creative – And Lawful – Contracts

Creative Folkestone has played a major role in putting the town back on the cultural map. Its Triennial, public art and support for independent businesses are widely recognised.

Precisely because of that influence, its residential contracts matter. They set a tone not only for tenants in the Quarter but for how culture-led regeneration treats the people who actually make the culture.

There is nothing wrong with a landlord expecting rent to be paid, properties to be respected and staff not to be abused. There is more room for argument about a tenancy that appears, even on a cautious reading, to say:

“We will rent you not just a home, but a role. Keep playing it the way we expect – creatively and quietly – or the show may not go on.”

As a piece of performance art, that might raise interesting questions. As the small print standing between an artist and homelessness, it is a very different kind of experiment.

NB: This article reflects the Shepway Vox Team’s understanding of the law and publicly available guidance as at November 2025. It is not a substitute for legal advice on any individual case.

If you have a story you believe we ought to investigate, please do contact us at: TheShepwayVoxTeam@proton.me

The Shepway Vox Team

Discernibly Different Dissent

A Big Thanks To All The Creatives Who Helped Make this Song So Quickly – Deeply Appreciated.