Budget Breakdown: How a Finnish Couple Built a Custom €1M Prefab That’s "All Wood and No Chemicals"

Their cross-laminated timber home is the first by Kainuu, a builder sourcing wood within 50 miles of its factory.

Designed by architect Pekka Airaxin of Kainuu, this home in Finland for couple Nicholas Anderson and Tuire Niemi exposes its structural CLT with 21-foot-tall gabled ceilings.

When Finnish architect Pekka Airaxin first met Nicholas Anderson and Tuire Niemi, he was looking for investors in his new cross-laminated timber homebuilding start-up, Kainuu. Instead, the couple became the company’s first clients. Tuire and Nicholas had lived in cities—most recently Helsinki—for much of their careers as financiers, and were ready to build a home in the countryside to begin working remotely.

While they were not familiar with CLT, Kainuu’s wood house designs were attractive, as were the budget, construction timeline, and purported sustainability benefits. So the couple tapped Airaxin and his company to create a custom 2,153-square-foot gable residence on their wooded plot 40 minutes west of the city center, in the seaside village of Siuntio.

The home's gable roof, with no eaves, is ideal to protect against harsh Finnish winds and snowdrifts.

A Helsinki couple wanting to move out of the city built a 2,153-square-foot prefab home by Kainuu, which uses cross-laminated timber made from wood sourced within 50 miles of its factory.

Photo: Tuomas Uusheimo

"It was really important to me that this house is all wood and no chemicals," says Tuire, who hails from northeast Finland and spent a year and a half studying sustainability at Finland’s Hanken School of Economics. Well, almost all wood. "Ninety-five percent," says Airaxin, who’s also Kainuu’s chief design officer.

The home includes a few other materials, like aluminum-framed windows; powder-coated steel railings around the terrace and front steps; the steel roof, set at a 90-degree angle with no eaves to prevent snow piles; and steel pylons, which raise the house about two-and-a-half feet above the ground to create continuous air circulation and prevent rot in its wooden subfloor. The technique comes from traditional Finnish rossipohja construction, says Nicholas, a Brit who first moved to Finland in the 1970s. Setting Kainuu houses atop piles also avoids a carbon-intensive slab-on-grade foundation and assures a building can be removed entirely at the end of its life, says Airaxin.

Architect Airaxin designed the home's accent lighting with Finnish company Spigot but the ceiling track lighting is from SuperLED. The living room seating area includes a Nakki sofa by Woud Design and a Barcelona chair by Ludwig Mies van der Rohe.

Architect Pekka Airaxin designed the home’s accent lighting with Finnish company Spigot. The ceiling track lighting is by SuperLED. The living room seating area includes a Nakki sofa by Woud Design and a Barcelona chair by Ludwig Mies van der Rohe.

Photo: Tuomas Uusheimo

A traditional Finnish sauna at home was a necessity to owner Nicholas Anderson.

The traditional Finnish sauna by Tähtisaunat Oy was an at-home necessity for owner Nicholas Anderson. Tile flooring is by Pukkila.

Photo: Tuomas Uusheimo

See the full story on Dwell.com: Budget Breakdown: How a Finnish Couple Built a Custom €1M Prefab That’s "All Wood and No Chemicals"

What the Obama Center Actually Cost—and Everything Else You Need to Know About This Week

NYC debuts new app-based public toilets, why some are saying midcentury modern is cringe now, and more.

  • Chicago’s Obama Presidential Center cost nearly $1 billion to build—$59 million more than the previously released figure, which the Obama Foundation attributes to added amenities. The privately funded construction bill excludes another $123 million in publicly funded infrastructure improvements in and around the site. But the foundation isn’t done spending yet. (Chicago Sun Times)
  • New York City rolled out 17 modular public toilets across the five boroughs, offering a "spiffy" way to use the bathroom around town. An app shows how clean a bathroom is and unlocks the door for you, but you’ll need a smartphone or a special card to get in, which is raising questions about the latrines’ accessibility. (Hellgate)

  • Once a symbol of post-World War II optimism, midcentury modern is now being labeled "millennial cringe," a verdict that seems more focused on who’s buying it than the actual design itself. (The Wall Street Journal)

Midcentury-modern-style decor at a Joe & the Juice location in San Ramon, California.

Midcentury-modern-style decor at a Joe & the Juice location in San Ramon, California.

Photo by Smith Collection/Gado/Getty Images

  • Aging buildings, rising insurance costs, and required balcony inspections are driving up fees for California condo owners, threatening what has historically been a relatively affordable path to homeownership. In one San Clemente complex, a surprise $26,000 emergency roof assessment has residents trying to oust their HOA board. (The Los Angeles Times)

  • After more than a century without house numbers, Carmel-by-the-Sea is adopting street addresses to help ambulances and deliveries find the right door with a bit less guesswork. The town’s city council approved the change in June. But some longtime residents see it as another factor in the erosion of the character of their small, coastal town. (The New York Times)

Top photo by Marcin Golba/NurPhoto via Getty Images

Is AI Replacing Realtors?

Prospective homebuyers and sellers are leaning on chatbots to estimate prices, parse inspection reports, and even draft up offer letters. The professionals say that’s causing problems.

When Joey Santiago started to think about buying a house in the competitive Southern California market several years back, he went to ChatGPT for help. He wanted to become financially stable enough to afford a down payment, and though he says the advice he received was pretty generic, like recommendations to "save money" and "use a high yield savings account," he admits it was nice to have a framework.

That’s why earlier this year, when Santiago had finally scraped together what he says was "a fat down payment" thanks to ChatGPT’s advice, he went back to the artificial intelligence well for help envisioning how he could make potential properties his own. By taking measurements and providing pictures of a kitchen, guest room, or primary bath, he says, he could ask Grok and ChatGPT questions like: Could a queen bed fit in this space? What kinds of floor molding could I use in this room? What kind of 30- to 32-inch midcentury-modern vanity would work in this bathroom?

The results weren’t always foolproof, he says, and he always made sure to cross-check the chatbots’ responses before he made any offers or placed furniture orders. But he says using AI helped him figure out what he could do with a space, even if it was owner occupied, full of furniture, and had horrible carpet and popcorn ceilings.

Santiago’s not alone in believing this. More and more people are turning to AI for help navigating the home buying and selling process, leaning on chatbots for answers to questions and guidance in gaining a competitive and financial edge. Meanwhile, many homeseekers are calling out realtors’ use of AI to tweak listing photos or generate flashy videos, calling the practice deceptive "housefishing." (That’s just one way realtors are using AI, as Dwell has previously reported.) It’s like an ouroboros, and all along the way, AI’s rise is majorly impacting the housing market, with data centers causing market price fluctuations and contributing to the ecological issues that could change where humans can comfortably live in decades to come.

A recent LendingTree study said that 72 percent of all Americans are comfortable using AI for at least one task related to buying or selling a home, like looking for the best realtor in an area or asking for mortgage tips. (A Realtor.com survey from last year put that number closer to 85 percent.) Meanwhile, a study by Veterans United Home Loans found that 53 percent of prospective homebuyers would be comfortable buying a home without any direct human involvement, and, according to the LendingTree study, 37 percent of respondents would let AI manage their entire home purchase with minimal human input. Younger buyers, like those in Gen Z, are particularly prone to relying on AI, with about a third saying they use it to do much of their research about the process. The LendingTree study also found that 36 percent of respondents expect AI to be able to handle most or all of a home sale or purchase by 2036—a fact that’s increasingly concerning to realtors, many of whom are already dealing with a scourge of increasingly fraught transactions thanks to people asking AI for guidance.

Earlier this year, New York City realtor and reality TV personality Ryan Serhant said he’d had a $50 million deal blown up at the last minute after both the buyer and seller consulted ChatGPT to ask about whether the property was priced correctly. (ChatGPT reportedly told the seller to ask for more money, while it told the buyer the property was overpriced.) In Florida, a man went viral this spring for using ChatGPT to price, list, and sell his four-bed, three-bath house online, only to have area realtors point out in the press that the seller had probably left upward of $200,000 on the table thanks to shoddy listing photos and a too-low initial asking price, both of which are issues a human realtor likely would have caught and addressed.

Some buyers and sellers have taken to Reddit to ask others’ opinions on whether they should use AI in their processes, weighing the viability of using it to help with negotiations, identify potential local tax increases, and review FEMA flood maps. It makes sense in theory: About a third of U.S. adults already say they use AI large language models every day, so why shouldn’t they apply that practice to real estate? That was the logic of a number of people Dwell spoke with in early reporting for this story, most of whom didn’t think the way they used AI tools during the home searching or selling process was notable enough to warrant their comment. In replies, though, most Redditors typically seem skeptical about the whole idea, rebuffing people with lines like, "Is the most expensive thing you’ll ever buy the kind of thing you want to leave up to a computer that doesn’t know many letters are in a word?" Some have come through with their own tips and tricks, however, like using Claude to create a project checklist after an offer is accepted.

Megan Brenn-White, founder of Compass’s Upstate Curious team in New York, says she noticed an uptick in buyer/seller AI use around six months ago. It’s only in the last two or three months, though, that she says it’s become an overwhelmingly large problem in the industry, leading her to chastise homeseekers’ use of AI multiple times in her company’s newsletter that goes out to potential buyers and sellers. After a New York Times story followed a reporter that successfully listed and sold his upstate New York property using an AI chatbot to gather advice on everything from pricing to the best photos to use on the listing, Brenn-White posted an Instagram Reel with 10 arguments against the writer’s case, telling Dwell that she did it because "it’s important to educate the people that the agents on my team are going to have to work with, period."

"People are dropping out of deals or asking for wild numbers—like a roof that we would get a quote from a contractor for let’s say $30,000, AI was telling them would be $70,000." 

Brenn-White says her team—which is composed of 23 agents who will do about 450 deals this year—has run up against clients relying too heavily on advice from AI chatbots about things like listing prices or future interest rates, only to miss out on properties they really loved. "It feels like it went very quickly from, ‘Huh, this happened with this deal, isn’t that strange,’ to, ‘Whoa, a lot of deals are falling apart—or not coming together—because of this,’" she says. The Upstate Curious team is trying to head off any faulty information AI might deliver, though the only thing they’ve found that really works is putting any and all queries they can think of about a property into chatbots themselves in advance of posting a listing, just so they can preemptively guess what a buyer or seller might find.

Unrepresented buyers habitually use ChatGPT or Gemini to compose their offers, Brenn-White says, noting that her company had a listing where two unrepresented buyers submitted essentially the same offer in the same wording thanks to their independent use of the same AI platforms. "They were strange enough in their actual terms too that the seller couldn’t really accept them," she says. "Buyers can be unrepresented and that’s fine, but this was giving them so much incorrect information and strategy that the offers just weren’t strong. Plus, when the offers come in and they’re strange, that is probably what’s going to happen again during the inspection process or negotiation. It makes sellers not want to take those kinds of offers."

Upstate Curious agent Hillary Kolos, who was handling the listing, says she sensed something was up. "In the past we had unrepresented buyers reach out but usually if they were interested in putting in an offer they would pair up with a buyer’s agent," she says, adding that when unrepresented buyers have sent her offers, "it’s usually a couple sentences in an email and not written in a very organized way." In this case, however, both offer emails were overly organized, divided into sections with headings, and used gently persuasive language. Both offers also came in at almost exactly the same amount—about five percent under asking—leading Kolos to strike up her own informal investigation. Posing as a potential buyer for the property, she asked ChatGPT to help her make an offer, and unsurprisingly, the chatbot’s response came back at about five percent under ask and with very similar language to that in the emails. 

Kolos says the sellers did end up taking one of those offers, but some fairly routine issues came up in the inspection that could have easily been addressed if the buyer had an agent to reassure them that those things were minor or could be addressed with renegotiation. That buyer then backed out and lost the $1,000 they spent on the inspection, and the sellers were forced to relist the property.

Speaking of inspections, Brenn-White says she also often runs into buyers who put a home’s reports through AI for analysis. When buyers then bring those concerns to their realtors, those professionals are somewhat limited in how they can address them. "Inspections are a very regulated field and they can be pretty terrifying if an inspector doesn’t explain the results well," she says. "As realtors, we’re not allowed to get into what they mean but we can say, ‘If the inspector says the roof is falling apart, here are three contractors that can give you a quote on the roof.’"

The issue arises when buyers also rely on AI tools to give them contractor recommendations and quotes. According to every realtor we talked to for this piece, AI chatbots are notoriously bad at region-specific recommendations, meaning if you’re asking for a roofer in upstate New York, it might give you someone working in Albany rather than in the Hudson Valley. Those realtors also say AI chatbots are bad at estimating costs, sometimes giving what could be Michigan pricing even if a home is in the Bay Area, where labor and costs are patently higher. "People are dropping out of deals or asking for wild numbers—like a roof that we would get a quote from a contractor for let’s say $30,000, AI was telling them would be $70,000," Brenn-White says. "It undermines their trust in us because if we’re like, ‘We have contractors who almost certainly can do that for less because we’ve seen this a million times,’ they’re like, ‘Well, ChatGPT says it could be this amount so this is what we want to negotiate.’"

Kati Spaniak, a realtor in the Chicago suburbs, says that when buyers use AI to parse their inspection reports, they’re often losing out on a realtor’s local expertise. "They’ll ask ChatGPT, ‘Is this an issue?’ and they’ll get generic comments, like, ‘Yes, that’s an issue,’ You need to bring in all these people to fix it," she says. "A local agent on the ground is going to be able to tell you more about that specific situation. Like if somebody’s inspection finds that a home has foundational cracks, the agent could say that these are the same kinds of cracks you’re going to find in ninety-nine percent of the homes in this location."

Shantih Moriarty, a real estate agent working with Redfin in the Bay Area, says that she’s even seen situations when AI agents hallucinate issues with inspections: "I’ve seen AI talk about cracks in foundations that aren’t there. I’ve seen it talk about particular types of piping, even if those pipes aren’t present." Brenn-White says that buyers’ misplaced trust in AI often gives heavier weight to its baseless assertions. Suzanne Goldklang, a licensed real estate salesperson in New York, adds: "Just because a computer spits something out and boldfaces and puts bullet points on it doesn’t mean it’s the best or most accurate information. AI is very good at making things look authoritative that are actually just random guesses."

Some buyers are willing to risk that authority, though, for a sense of autonomy. In Texas and Florida, newly launched real estate site Homa offers AI agents that walk users through the homebuying process before connecting them with centralized human agents to seal the deal. Aiming to reduce the amount of total commission buyers pay ostensibly by cutting one or more humans out of the process, the company says its AI chatbot is specifically trained on real estate issues in its markets. CEO and cofounder Arman Javaherian says this is particularly of interest to buyers who might like the ease or isolation that comes with a digital-only life, like ordering groceries through Instacart versus going to the grocery store. "We did a survey of a thousand homebuyers that closed in the last three years and something like sixty one percent said that they held back a question they wanted to ask their realtor because they worried it would be too annoying or cause them too much work," Javaherian says. Over 100 homes have closed or come under contract on Homa’s site to date and Javaherian says the company plans to expand into California soon.

While most real estate agents we spoke to were generally skeptical if not downright dismissive about forgoing agent expertise when buying or selling a home, some did admit clients could find value turning to AI sparingly during the process, provided they take the results with a grain of salt. For instance, Moriarty thinks AI tools can help generate questions about a report or particular listing and suggests her clients occasionally run documents like condo CC&Rs through AI, since they can sometimes run upward of 300 pages. "Nobody’s reading that in a week and coming up with questions, and there is stuff buried in there," she says. "AI can come up with a list of questions about things that you might be worried about and then you can talk to someone about those. Maybe it’ll come up with a hundred questions, ten of which are very pertinent and three of those you may not have asked. That’s valuable." She recommends clients adhere to the philosophy of "trust but verify"—specifically, with an agent—when it comes to AI. After all, like that one Redditor said, is such an expensive purchase the kind of thing you’d really want to leave up to a computer?

Related Reading:

How Realtors Are Really Using AI in the Age of "Real Estate Slop"

Ask a Realtor: I’m a First-Time Homebuyer. Should I Even Bother?

The Reason This Spanish Architect Got Into Prefab Has Nothing to Do With Speed or Budget

The first factory-built home by Eduardo Mediero of Madrid firm Hanghar is an experiment in something he feels is much more valuable to a client.

Welcome to Prefab Profiles, an ongoing series of interviews with people transforming how we build houses. From prefab tiny houses and modular cabin kits to entire homes ready to ship, their projects represent some of the best ideas in the industry. Do you know a prefab brand that should be on our radar? Get in touch!

Hanghar may be the only architecture practice with an expiration date. The Madrid practice is part of the OWN Foundation, a nonprofit that wants to decommodify architecture and the built environment through alternative modes of firm ownership. At least in theory, by ceasing operations at a set time—in this case, in 2030—Hanghar isn’t beholden to the pressures of growth since it can’t be sold or passed on, no matter the value of the work it produces.

But until then, Hanghar, which works across architecture, interiors, furniture, housing, and urban projects, is exploring new ways to create buildings, from financing and design through production. Prefabricated methods felt like a natural fit. "For us, industrialization is not an aesthetic style or a catalogue of houses; it is a way of reconsidering the relationship between design, construction, time, cost and quality," says Hanghar founder Eduardo Mediero.

Here, we speak with Mediero about the firm’s first prefabricated house, Casa Guadalupe, and what else is on the docket for his ephemeral practice.

Casa Guadalupe is a 1,290-square-foot prefabricated home designed for a couple living in Gijón, Spain.

Casa Guadalupe is a 1,290-square-foot prefabricated home designed by architecture firm Hanghar for a couple living in Gijón, Spain.

Photo: Rory Gardiner

How did you get started doing prefab?

Casa Guadalupe was our first fully industrialized house, and it came out of a very simple question: Could we make the construction process more precise without making the architecture more generic?

We were interested in the potential of moving as much of the construction process as possible away from the building site and into a controlled workshop environment. Conventional construction often involves a large amount of uncertainty: weather, coordination between trades, variable workmanship and decisions being made progressively on-site. Prefabrication allowed us to reverse that relationship. We could resolve the building much further in advance, manufacture it under controlled conditions, and then bring a largely finished system to the site.

Casa Guadalupe became a kind of full-scale experiment in that approach. The house was completely fabricated in a workshop, transported to Gijón and assembled on-site.

The entire hosue was fabricated in an off-site factory, and then assembled on site.

The entire house was fabricated in a factory.

Photo: Rory Gardiner

The main house was assmbled on site in less than 48 hours.

It was assembled on-site in 48 hours.

Photo: Rory Gardiner

See the full story on Dwell.com: The Reason This Spanish Architect Got Into Prefab Has Nothing to Do With Speed or Budget

£32 Gets You Aboard This Floating Wood-Fired Sauna in London

Soak bills itself as an off-grid wellness space with a steam room, cold plunges, showers, and a café and bar area.

Houses We Love: Every day we feature a remarkable space submitted by our community of architects, designers, builders, and homeowners. Have one to share? Post it here.

Project Details:

Location: London, United Kingdom

Designer: Badweather

Footprint: 500 square feet

Photographer: Kaye Song / @kaye.song

From the Designer: "Soak is a traveling bathhouse designed by architecture studio Badweather, set within a restored 56-foot-wide beam canal boat. Operating entirely off-grid, it combines sauna and cold plunge facilities into a floating wellness space that moves through London’s historic waterway network, mooring in a new location every two weeks. Part bathhouse, part piece of floating architecture, Soak explores what communal wellness infrastructure can be when it is freed from fixed foundations and instead designed for mobility, adaptability, and a deep connection to water. The project was cofounded by childhood best friends Riccardo Codacci-Pisanelli, a chef and former restaurateur, and Leo Sixsmith, cofounder of Badweather.

"Codacci-Pisanelli and Sixsmith came to communal bathing following periods of grief and personal recalibration. What began as a collective practice of gathering and resting among friends gradually became the basis for Soak: a social wellness space combining the therapeutic rituals of sauna culture with a resolved architectural sensibility and elevated hospitality experience.

"The boat was acquired in May 2025 in near-derelict condition. Rotten floors, extensive water damage and a hull requiring complete restoration meant the project began with a full strip-out before a deep restoration and recoating of the steel hull. From there, a team of around 40 collaborators led by Sixsmith and Codacci-Pisanelli, including plumbers, electricians, fabricators, carpenters, and battery specialists, undertook its transformation. The sleek interior touches on Badweather’s typical approach: utilitarian and industrial components—threaded rod, T-brackets and chrome-plated copper plumbing—make up details with sculptural precision. The aesthetic resists preciousness while being highly resolved.

"Soak is structured for up to 12 people, combining a sauna, two cold plunge pools, showers, changing space, and a small bar. Given the constraints of the steel hull, with its internal struts dictating where walls, windows, and openings could fall, the interior layout resolved itself into a single linear sequence. Guests move from a warm, low-lit entry space set with dark stained marine plywood into a bright, airy cold plunge and shower room before arriving at the sauna itself.

"Within the sauna, custom aluminum-framed floating benches are suspended within the tapered hull. The benches hover above the floor, echoing the feeling of floating on water. The sauna is lined in thermally treated aspen and alder, selected for their durability under heat and humidity as much as for their tone and grain. Across the boat, enlarged portholes rework original 11-inch apertures into 18- and 32-inch openings. Soak’s four colors—fire red, cold blue, lavender, and earth brown—correspond to an element of the bathing experience and also act as navigational marker. At the bow, a former steel door has been replaced with a picture window aperture that pulls daylight deep into the interior, shifting the perception of scale of the narrow hull.

"Soak operates without connection to water, electricity, or sewage infrastructure. Canal water is drawn in and passed through six stages of filtration and UV treatment before being stored in a fabricated bow tank. A reverse osmosis system produces drinking water, later re-mineralized with calcium, magnesium, and potassium, supplying both guests and the on-board café offering. Electricity is generated via solar panels, while heat is provided by a woodfired stove and supported by a custom battery stack housed within the vessel. Together, the systems allow the project to operate as a self-sufficient floating environment."

Photo by Kaye Song

Photo by Kaye Song

Photo by Kaye Song

See the full story on Dwell.com: £32 Gets You Aboard This Floating Wood-Fired Sauna in London

In North Vancouver, a Never-Before-Seen Fred Hollingsworth Midcentury Just Listed for $1.8M

Built in 1952, the mahogany-wrapped home has been held by the same family for five decades, and it hasn’t been photographed or published before now.

Location: 4065 Sunset Boulevard, North Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada

Price: $2,599,000 CAD (approximately $1,822,964 USD)

Year Built: 1952

Footprint: 1,990 square feet (4 beds, 2 baths)

Lot Size: 0.34 acres

From the Listing: "Fred Hollingsworth, one of the defining architects of West Coast modernism, designed Mahogany House within Sunset Gardens, a 46-home neighborhood he master-planned himself—yet broke from his own plan for this one client. Frank Paxton, who ran a large millwork business in North Vancouver, commissioned an unusual material for the house’s cladding: mahogany boat plywood, with matching veneer paneling carried through the interior. It is one of the architect’s most complete material stories, inside and out. A cedar tree that once grew where the dining room now stands was left in place—the architect opened the roof around it, rather than cutting it down. Clerestory windows pour light into the main living space even on overcast days, and the front door, hidden from the street, can only be found by those who already know where they’re going. Held by one family since 1970, Mahogany House has never been photographed or written about publicly."

The entire home is clad in the original mahogany boat plywood.

The entire home is clad in mahogany boat plywood. 

Photo by Jenn Xu

Operable floor-to-ceiling glass windows connect to the backyard.

Floor-to-ceiling glass doors connect the living area to the backyard. 

Photo by Jenn Xu

A white concrete fireplace anchors the living room.

A white concrete fireplace anchors the living room. 

Photo by Jenn Xu

See the full story on Dwell.com: In North Vancouver, a Never-Before-Seen Fred Hollingsworth Midcentury Just Listed for $1.8M
Related stories:

Deaths, Disclosures, and Discounts: How Dark Histories Impact Home Sales

When a "stigmatized property" hits the market, it doesn’t always come with a reduced asking price—or even notice of its tragic backstory.

The day Andy Gibbs and his wife closed escrow on a house near Tucson, Arizona, in 2018, his realtor walked through the home with a handful of smoldering sage, telling the deceased previous owner—who had recently died by suicide in the kitchen—that he could now leave.

"We had a limited budget, and with little housing inventory—at Christmastime—our options were limited," he explains. "We looked for a house with good bones in a good neighborhood. Despite the death disclosure—likely the reason the price was low—we put an offer on that house."

Gibbs ultimately remodeled the entire home room by room, including replacing all the flooring. He sold the property in April, but opted not to disclose the death to the new buyers. Under Arizona law, they were not required to do so unless the buyer specifically asked about this aspect of the house’s history. "We never received that request," he says.

Gibbs’s former home is what’s known as a "stigmatized property," which, according to Dr. Randall Bell, principal and CEO of Landmark Research Group, an advisory firm specializing in real estate damage economics, refers to "any site where there was a horrible tragedy—whether it be an old war site, crime scene, rape or murder, suicide, or any kind of negative event in human history." Nicknamed the "Master of Disaster" because he appraises damage at the sites of traumatic events and crime scenes, Bell has assessed notable houses with dark histories, including the sites of infamous 1990s crimes like Nicole Brown Simpson’s former Brentwood condo, the JonBenét Ramsey house in Boulder, Colorado, and the Mediterranean-style mansion near San Diego where 39 members of the Heaven’s Gate cult died by suicide (all of which sold at discounted prices and/or sat on the market for years without a buyer).

Aug 2026: The house where JonBenet Ramsey was murdered at age 6 in Boulder, Colorado.

Two years after 6-year-old JonBenét Ramsey was found killed in her family’s Colorado Tudor in 1996, the Ramsey family sold the five-bedroom house to an investor group for $650,000 ($150,000 more than they bought it for in 1991). The street address was changed in 2001 and a large fence and tall trees were added to discourage looky-loos. The current owners purchased the property for $1.05 million in 2004 and have tried to list it for sale on and off since 2008 to no avail. 

Photo by Doug Pensinger/Getty Images

In the field of real estate damage economics, stigmatized properties are considered a gamble. "It’s the risk that a buyer takes on, given the property’s reputation and notoriety in the marketplace, and any potential negative connotations toward that property," Bell explains, though he adds that "generally speaking, stigma tends to dissipate over time with many properties." So while historic, allegedly haunted homes may retain their value—for example, the Lizzie Borden house (the site of a notorious 1890s unsolved double murder in Massachusetts) sold for $2 million in 2021 and has operated as a house museum and B&B for decades, and the real-life Rhode Island farmhouse that inspired The Conjuring went for $1.5 million, $300,000 over the asking price, in 2022—houses with more recent morbid pasts are a different story.

Assessing a stigmatized property

With any stigmatized property, Bell considers three elements: "cost," which is typically the repair or remediation cost, "use," which is often computed as the rental rate of the property while the occupants are evacuated or the property is not conventionally usable, and "risk" or stigma—"often computed by comparable situations or case studies in the neighborhood, around the country or even internationally," he explains. Some properties are more stigmatized than others. "Crimes against children would be at the top of the list," Bell says. "Then crimes against women or the elderly, and then murder." Suicides affect property values the least, he notes.

There isn’t a federal law requiring realtors to disclose whether a death or crime took place in a house; this is regulated on the state level, and most states don’t have legislation in place. "It’s caveat emptor—‘let the buyer beware,’" Bell says. One exception is California, where realtors and sellers are required to disclose any death that occurred on the property within the last three years. Other states require the listing agent to inform potential buyers of any known murders or suicides within the last 12 months (South Dakota) or three years (Alaska). Because of the inconsistency of states’ laws, Bell recommends that potential buyers ask the realtor about the house’s past directly. "The one thing that one hundred percent no broker or realtor or agent has is the right to lie," he explains. "If you ask, they have to tell you the truth." There are also dedicated websites like DiedInHouse.com and HouseCreep.com where users can pay a fee to conduct a search for an address to see if any deaths or crimes have taken place there.

Media gathered outside the condo where Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman were stabbed to death a day earlier on June 13, 1994 in Brentwood, California.

Stigmatized properties sometimes garner attention that new owners will have to deal with. The buyers of the Brentwood, California, condo where Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman were killed in 1994 (pictured above at the center of a media frenzy the day after the murders) sold for a reduced price two years later, with the new owners reportedly changing its shrubbery and address.

Photo by David Ryder/Getty Images

The price is right

When people buy stigmatized properties, Bell says that it’s usually—though not always—for economic reasons. "Sometimes the market is really tight, and it’s what’s available," he notes. That said, according to a 2025 poll from market research and data analytics firm YouGov, just 26 percent of American adults would be willing to purchase a house where the previous owners had been murdered. Stigmatized properties can have a similar effect outside the U.S. "The buyers who actually move forward are usually either completely unfazed by the history or very value-conscious," says Robin Edwards, a property buying agent at Cureton Property Finders in London. "A tragic history does not automatically mean a huge discount, but it can definitely narrow the buyer pool and sometimes that can give interested buyers more leverage."

While price drops on homes where notable or recent deaths occurred typically range from 10 to 25 percent, Bell says he’s also seen homicides that had no effect on a property’s value, this tending to be the case more often in urban areas with lower-income demographics. That’s likely not a mark of certain buyers’ comfortability; with more financial constraints and fewer options in squeezed markets, there’s a lot less room to be picky about your home’s history.

Pricier locales also aren’t immune to decreases in property value. When Marisa Vallbona and her family moved into their La Jolla, California, home in 2001, word on the street—at least amongst the kids in the neighborhood—was that it was haunted. But the house’s reputation didn’t come as a surprise to her: she already knew that the previous owner had died by suicide on the property. "The savings were substantial, so hearing that didn’t bother us at all," Vallbona explains. "We loved the home because it was the perfect size for us, located in an ideal community with gorgeous views, and had an expansive lot."

Police tape surrounds a home that was the site of a quadruple murder on January 3, 2023 in Moscow, Idaho.

The off-campus house in Moscow, Idaho, where four University of Idaho students were murdered in November 2022 was demolished the following year.

Photo by David Ryder/Getty Images

See the full story on Dwell.com: Deaths, Disclosures, and Discounts: How Dark Histories Impact Home Sales