We’ve spent too much time arguing about what to call the problem instead of how to solve it. That’s one of the reasons people have lost trust in government. We debate terms like “continuum of care,” “housing-focused systems,” and “permanent supportive housing,” while residents are asking much simpler questions: Why do our streets feel less safe? Why are businesses struggling? Why are people still living and dying on our sidewalks? After spending millions of dollars, what are we actually accomplishing?
We don’t rebuild trust by choosing better words. We rebuild trust by speaking plainly.
Let’s be honest: not everyone living on our streets is in the same situation, so why do we keep talking as if they are?
Some people have fallen on hard times and need temporary housing, employment support, and a bridge back to stability. Some need structured support and intensive case management because life has become overwhelming, but they can still engage with services. Others are living with severe addiction, untreated mental illness, traumatic brain injuries, PTSD, or chronic medical conditions. Many are self-medicating on our streets. They need treatment, medical care, recovery services, and sometimes legal intervention before housing alone can make a lasting difference.
Different problems require different solutions. If we keep treating every situation the same, we shouldn’t be surprised when the results stay the same.
We also need to have an honest conversation about housing. Santa Monica is just 8.4 square miles. We are a fully built-out city, so every decision about housing, services, and public space matters.
We should continue building housing responsibly for the people who live and work here. But we need to stop acting as though every discussion about homelessness begins and ends with building more housing.
When residents talk about the people they see living on our streets every day, they’re usually not talking about someone who lost an apartment a month ago. They’re talking about people who appear to be struggling with severe addiction, untreated mental illness, or both. Those challenges require more than housing alone.
That doesn’t mean housing isn’t part of the solution. It is. It means we have to match the right solution to the right person.
Santa Monica also cannot solve a regional crisis by itself. During ride-alongs with our Police Department and conversations with outreach workers, firefighters, paramedics, and service providers, I’ve met people from throughout California and other parts of the country. Addiction, mental illness, and gaps in treatment don’t stop at city boundaries, and neither should the solutions.
Where treatment, detox, psychiatric care, recovery programs, or supportive housing already exist elsewhere in Los Angeles County, we should use those resources. Every community should do its part so no single city carries a disproportionate share of the burden.
At the same time, when services are going to exist in Santa Monica regardless, we should seriously consider local control if it gives us greater accountability. If we’re responsible for the outcomes, then the buck should stop with us.
That brings me to the Palm Motel. I live just down the street. When I first learned what was happening, I had many of the same concerns my neighbors had. I was disappointed that the community wasn’t brought into the conversation sooner. Over the last two years, I’ve also learned something important. Not every issue people associate with the Palm Motel actually starts there. The surrounding businesses, gas station, liquor market, and air pump naturally attract people throughout the day. Sitting on a sidewalk isn’t illegal. Putting air in your tires isn’t illegal. Using drugs in public, trespassing, stealing, vandalizing property, threatening others, or creating unsafe conditions is illegal. That’s where our focus should be.
I’ve supported our Police Department becoming more proactive not because people should be arrested simply for being homeless, but because public spaces belong to everyone. We should continue connecting people with services while also enforcing the laws that protect residents, visitors, businesses, and the people trying to recover. Residents also deserve to understand the choice before us.
If the City does not take over funding the Palm Motel program, we don’t get to decide what happens there next. The owners have the legal right to continue operating it, sell it, or redevelop it within the law. Doing nothing is still a decision, and it comes with consequences. Before we choose a path, we should be honest about all of the realistic alternatives, not just the one currently in front of us.
Finally, let’s start measuring results instead of intentions. Residents deserve to know where the money comes from, who controls each program, what those programs cost, and whether they’re actually working. We should publish that information in a simple public dashboard that shows funding sources, responsibilities, outcomes, and performance. If something isn’t working, we should have the courage to change it.
I know this balanced approach frustrates people on both sides.
Some believe acknowledging neighborhood impacts means you don’t care about people who are homeless. Others believe supporting treatment and services means you’ve accepted the status quo. I reject both extremes. My job isn’t to defend an ideology. My job is to solve problems.
Government doesn’t have to be this confusing: explain the problem, explain the options, show people where the money goes, measure the results. If something isn’t working, change it. That’s not a partisan approach. It’s common sense.
Our residents deserve clean streets, safe neighborhoods, thriving businesses, and a city they can proudly call home. People who are homeless deserve a system that actually helps them recover, stabilize, and rebuild their lives. We can do both. But first, we have to stop arguing about the words and start focusing on the results.
Lana Negrete