
This is an opinion article. The views expressed belong to the author.
There is a particular irony in how many Luxembourg tenancies end.
After years of paying exorbitant rents in one of Europe’s tightest housing markets—often accompanied by steadily rising maintenance charges—tenants discover that the true cost of living arrives only at checkout. Not when the lease is signed. Not during years of faithful payment. But at the very end, when the apartment is returned and the language begins to change.
The exit inspection is brief. Boxes are ticked. Observations are noted. Words like “scratches,” “marks,” or the catch-all “damage” appear—often without measurements, photographs, or any discussion of cost. The tenant signs, believing—reasonably—that this is a factual record, not a financial verdict.
The reckoning comes later.
Invoices arrive for work that looks suspiciously like improvement rather than repair. Entire parquet floors are sanded and oiled, though no document explains why local repair was technically impossible. Walls are fully repainted because they show signs of having been lived in. Even lighting systems are replaced—not because they failed, but because halogen has given way to LED. A clear upgrade, quietly reframed as tenant responsibility.
The language is always careful. Invoices rarely say “negligence.” Instead, they speak of Werterhaltung—value preservation—or Mieterwechsel—tenant change. These may be accurate descriptions of what was done. They are far less convincing explanations of why departing tenants should pay for it.
All of this unfolds after years during which tenants have already absorbed high and rising costs, often without transparency into what routine maintenance fees actually cover. One might reasonably ask: if maintenance is already being paid for, why does routine upkeep suddenly become “damage” at exit?
Then comes the most efficient step of all: the security deposit.
Luxembourg law now caps rental security deposits, a welcome reform in a market long criticised for excessive upfront costs. Yet for many tenants who entered leases before this cap came into force, higher deposits remain fully exposed. These tenants are still at risk of losing the entire amount—often equivalent to several months’ rent—through disputed exit charges, even when no clear negligence is established.
In practice, deposits are sometimes applied in full before disputes are resolved, before mediation concludes, and before a judge has weighed in on proportionality. The deposit, once described as security, becomes advance reimbursement.
When tenants question this, they are told that witnesses will testify. These witnesses are typically the same professionals who carried out the work, engaged after the tenant’s departure, offering retrospective opinions that the work they performed was necessary. Exit photographs taken at handover—showing ordinary wear rather than devastation—are treated as secondary.
This is not about rogue landlords. One of the more uncomfortable truths is that many landlords in Luxembourg are highly educated, senior professionals—executives, leaders, and respected figures. This is not a story of ignorance. It is a story of incentives. A system that quietly allows refurbishment and upgrades to be externalised onto departing tenants, with minimal friction.
Most tenants do not litigate. They negotiate down, accept partial losses, or walk away. The system relies on this exhaustion.
If Luxembourg wishes to restore balance, modest but concrete reforms are needed:
None of this would harm responsible landlords. It would simply ensure that moving out of an apartment does not feel like funding its next upgrade.
In Luxembourg, the lease may end—but the monetisation often does not. And until the system catches up with the law, “normal wear and tear” will remain the only thing that never survives checkout.