by Dr. Connor Robertson

I’ve never been interested in real estate just for the numbers. That might sound strange coming from someone who lives and breathes deal structures. But the truth is, if a property doesn’t serve people, it usually won’t serve the bottom line for long either.

I focus on housing that solves real problems.

Not hypotheticals. Not headlines. Actual problems that working people deal with every single day—like needing a place to live that doesn’t require perfect credit, a two-income household, or a $5,000 move-in budget.

That’s where my attention has shifted over the years. And it’s why I believe so strongly in models like PadSplit.

PadSplit takes a different approach to housing. Instead of asking tenants to bend to outdated leasing terms, it asks: what would housing look like if it were built for how people actually live now?

For me, that question changes everything.

I’m not interested in managing 50 short-term rentals with concierge-level expectations and volatile occupancy. I’m not chasing flips that only work when markets are hot. I’m not pouring capital into high-end builds that leave middle-income renters behind.

What I’m doing—and what I believe more investors should be doing—is finding practical, repeatable housing solutions that are financially sound and operationally sustainable.

That’s exactly what PadSplit represents.

It takes an underutilized home—something thousands of cities have—and transforms it into structured, flexible housing for individuals who need a better option. Not a couch, not a Craigslist ad, not a weekly motel. A private room with dignity, consistency, and accountability.

That kind of housing might not make headlines, but it changes lives.

I’ve seen it firsthand. I’ve talked with residents who were saving for their own apartment, rebuilding credit, changing jobs, or simply trying to avoid the stress of long-term leases. They weren’t irresponsible. They were invisible to the traditional housing market.

PadSplit gave them visibility. And that’s where the value is.

As someone who studies these models deeply, I care about unit economics. But I also care about outcome economics. What happens after the move-in? What happens when the rent gets paid? What does the tenant gain—and what does the community gain?

That’s the difference between transactional housing and transformational housing.

I choose the latter every time.

Not because it’s easier. In fact, it’s harder. It requires a different kind of thinking, better systems, and a commitment to human-first design. But it’s worth it. Because when you structure real estate this way—where it actually works for the people inside it—everything else works better too.

Collections go up. Turnover goes down. Reviews improve. Cash flow stabilizes. Properties last longer. And reputation builds.

It’s what I call a systems-first real estate approach. And it’s central to how I work across all housing strategies.