China is inching toward yet another property stimulus package, but let’s call this what it is: the sixth year of a housing winter that has frozen confidence, kneecapped household balance sheets, and left policymakers rummaging through the drawer for whatever fiscal matchsticks are left. Beijing is preparing something that looks, smells, and walks like a targeted bailout—mortgage subsidies, tax rebates, reduced transaction costs—essentially handing consumers a cheque and hoping they’ll wander back into a market they no longer trust.
And that’s the heart of the dilemma. You can cheapen the mortgage, sugar-coat the tax bill, and shave transfer fees to the bone, but if the buyer doesn’t believe prices have a floor, he isn’t stepping into the ring. This is why China’s property market, once the world’s largest asset class and a pillar of household wealth, has become a slow-motion avalanche. Every attempt to stabilize it gives you a few weeks of traction, then the snowpack breaks again. Home sales have been sliding since Q2, fixed-asset investment just collapsed, and both new and resale prices logged their fastest drops in at least a year in October.
Banks feel it too. Household credit demand is shrinking, mortgage balances have fallen for two straight quarters, and delinquency risks are rising sharply. With Chinese banks already sitting on a record ¥3.5 trillion in bad loans, a prolonged slump isn’t just a housing issue—it’s a creeping balance-sheet recession that eats lenders from the inside out.
Beijing knows cheap loans won’t magically conjure demand. Households are deleveraging, real incomes feel stagnant, and the broader economy has settled into a low-visibility glidepath. So yes—China will roll out mortgage subsidies, expand income-tax relief, push local authorities to ease purchase restrictions, and probably give their “interest-waiver playbook” another run. But these are Band-Aids on a structural fracture. A cycle that once relied on perpetual price appreciation now needs hard guarantees—clear price stabilization, supply-side reform, and the political willingness to drag failing developers through restructuring.
For now, officials appear to be preserving the bigger guns for early Q1—timed neatly to shore up confidence before 2025 growth targets are set. October data was so weak they could have intervened immediately, but with this year’s number still “achievable,” they’re saving the fiscal rocket fuel. Yet the risk is simple: China is running out of incremental tools that don’t resemble a full-blown bailout. And the longer they wait, the more the market internalizes the message that the government won’t—or can’t—draw a hard line under prices.
Six years into this downturn, the burden has shifted from coaxing buyers back into the market to convincing them that the state still has the ability—and the will—to stop the slide. Until Beijing delivers a package big enough to break that psychology, the property sector remains a cold engine running on fumes, and every “stimulus drip” will only delay the moment China must finally confront the structural rot beneath its housing mountain.
