Every so often, a familiar narrative resurfaces in our community: that there is no housing shortage. That the crisis we see unfolding in cities across California is somehow fabricated, exaggerated, or misdiagnosed. That the problem isn’t the supply of housing, but simply where it’s located, who wants it, or how it’s allocated. That the market, left to its own devices, has done enough.
This argument is not just empirically flawed—it’s morally untethered. The reality is that California, and communities like Davis, are facing an unprecedented housing crisis defined by scarcity, affordability, and exclusion. To deny this crisis is to deny the lived reality of millions of people across the state—students sleeping in cars, working families priced out of their neighborhoods, seniors on fixed incomes with nowhere to go.
I fully acknowledge the notion of a national housing shortage may be a misleading term. As critics like to point out, there are parts of the country with enough physical units to meet stagnant or declining demand. But housing demand is not uniform. It concentrates in regions where jobs, schools, climate, and amenities attract people. California is one of those regions, particularly its high-opportunity urban and suburban areas.
Some critics cite a University of Kansas study that claims only four of the country’s 381 metropolitan areas were experiencing a housing shortage during the study period. Even setting aside the study’s serious methodological limitations, it misses the point.
The authors distinguish between an overall housing shortage and a shortage of affordable housing, which they acknowledge is widespread. That distinction may be useful to economists, but for families deciding whether to pay rent or buy groceries, it’s meaningless.
Bottom line: If you can’t afford a home near where you live or work, there’s a crisis—period.
Alan Mallach’s The Divided City adds critical perspective here. Mallach points out that while some cities—especially in the Rust Belt—have an abundance of low-cost housing, these are often places “cut off from economic opportunity.”
Cheap housing in places like Gary, Youngstown, or Flint does little good for a family in Sacramento, San Jose, or Los Angeles trying to live near a job.
These are not simply affordability problems, but rather are problems of geographic mismatch, systemic disinvestment, and economic isolation. Housing is cheap in many places precisely because demand has dried up along with the jobs. That doesn’t mean the housing shortage is a myth—it means it’s local, regional, and structurally tied to opportunity.
In Davis, we see students crowded into living rooms and garages, long waitlists for affordable units, and rising rents that outpace wage growth. We see families leaving the community because they cannot find housing that matches their needs or budget.
The data supports what we see: vacancy rates remain low, demand for housing—particularly single-family homes and student-oriented housing—continues to outstrip supply, and builders struggle to gain approval for projects amid fierce political resistance.
One frequent argument against building more housing is that “infill” development—dense housing near downtowns and transit—is the only acceptable path forward.
There’s no doubt that infill must be a major part of the solution. Building near jobs, schools, and transportation is efficient, sustainable, and equitable.
But infill alone cannot meet our needs at scale. Cities like Davis are built out in ways that make large-scale infill difficult. Parcel sizes are small, redevelopment is expensive, and political opposition is fierce.
That brings us to a more nuanced position—one that I believe offers a practical path forward.
We need a balanced approach that includes both infill and carefully planned peripheral development.
That’s not a call to return to 1990s-style sprawl. It’s a recognition that we must grow, and that some of that growth will happen at the edges of our cities. The key is how we grow.
Do we build walkable, transit-connected, mixed-income neighborhoods—or do we allow more auto-dependent subdivisions with no services and no long-term planning?
“Sprawl” has a definition, and critics are quick to cite it.
But not every project outside city limits qualifies as sprawl.
If a project includes a diversity of housing types, incorporates transit and bike infrastructure, offers parks, schools, and local services, and reduces greenhouse gas emissions relative to the regional baseline, it’s not sprawl. It’s smart growth. And smart growth can happen both within and at the edge of our cities.
Unfortunately, much of the debate is shaped by bad-faith definitions and zero-sum logic. If you support any housing project on undeveloped land, you must be in favor of endless sprawl.
If you question whether infill can scale fast enough, you must be against environmental protection.
This kind of dichotomous thinking leads nowhere and traps us in endless debates while the crisis worsens. (In other words, stop citing the same study over and over again as though citing it for a 15th time is going to convince us despite all evidence to the contrary that there is no housing crisis).
We also have to talk about affordability—and be honest about what the market can and cannot do.
Market-rate housing is necessary, but it’s not sufficient.
In tight markets, new supply helps reduce upward pressure on rents. But it does not reach the lowest-income households. It doesn’t house the chronically homeless, or seniors with fixed incomes, or people with disabilities.
Public investment, inclusionary requirements, and deeply subsidized housing are essential. So is tenant protection. So is zoning reform. So is fixing CEQA and local approval processes that delay or kill even the most modest projects.
Housing is a system, not a single lever. In order to be serious about fixing the system, you can’t deny that production plays a role. You can’t dismiss the need to build more, build smarter, and build more affordably.
When we block new homes because they threaten our aesthetic preferences, our property values, or our nostalgic idea of what the community should look like, we are making a choice. And that choice has consequences. It forces someone else out. It prices someone else in. It displaces someone else’s child.
To those who say there is no housing shortage, I ask: whom are you speaking for? Are you saying it because you have already purchased your home (or homes) and don’t need to consider issues like supply, availability, affordability, transportation and the like?
Are you speaking for the single mom whose lease was not renewed and who now faces a two-hour commute to work? Are you speaking for the student paying $900 to sleep in a closet? Are you speaking for the minimum-wage worker sharing a two-bedroom apartment with five people?
Or are you speaking for those who are already housed, already secure, already protected?
We have a responsibility to look beyond our immediate comfort and confront the world as it is. The housing crisis is not just a failure of policy. It is a failure of imagination—and of will. We can fix it, but only if we tell the truth about it.
Denying the crisis may comfort some. But for the growing number of Californians living its reality, denial is not an option. The housing crisis has consequences—even if you personally are not experiencing them.
“Bottom line: If you can’t afford a home near where you live or work, there’s a crisis—period.”
So if I work in Davis but have to commute from Natomas or West Sac that’s a crisis?
Multiply that by 30,000 and start mapping the consequences of that constraint in order to assess whether it’s a crisis or not.
30,000 what, exactly?
Of course, there’s also Davis residents commuting outward, which is somehow “also” a crisis in your view. (Which of course is the reason you supported DISC – on the theory that Davis residents would abandon their career jobs with the state, for example, to work at DISC.)
Which seems to be related to your other claim regarding DISC – that it wouldn’t cause MORE demand for housing in Davis. (At which point, you lost every ounce of credibility you had left.)
In any case, how do you propose “dislodging” (whatever number it is) of those who live outside of Davis, but commute to UCD? Do you think they’re going to trade “more”, for “less” in regard to housing? Even more so, if there’s family members who work elsewhere (e.g., in Sacramento)? And that they’ll sell their houses (while incurring enormous costs to do so), in order to buy an expensive shoebox in Davis that doesn’t even have sufficient parking or space for their families? (That is, unless they buy a pre-existing house – in which case it might conceivably make some sense, at least.)
You don’t seem to put forth any common sense arguments regarding any of this.
Plus, it isn’t really “Natomas” or “West Sacramento” so much, as it is from “North, North Davis” (Spring Lake). With another 1,600 housing units on the way (at the technology park, adjacent to Highway 113).
That’s an easy, direct commute to UCD, and there is (or was?) a direct commuter bus line between the two locales. (Not sure of the status, but there’s ways to make that work.) It’s currently served by a non-commuter line, at least.
Your argument is essentially that NIMBYs are to blame for the construction of Daly City (many decades ago), in regard to its proximity to San Francisco.
“30,000 what, exactly?”
What exactly is right. I guess David thinks he knows of 30,000 people who work in Davis and would rather live in Davis than where they now live. I’m sure he can sight some YIMBY poll or pro housing survey that will back this claim. Think about that, 30,000 new inhabitants would swell the Davis population by near 50%.
Both of you guys did the exact same thing. You asked why it was a crisis if you have to live in Natomas and commute to Davis. I suggested you multiply it by 30,000 and observe the impacts of that – neither of you did. If you had you would have noted traffic impacts, environmental impacts, and housing impacts (to name but a few). BTW, the 30,000 figure is not a made up number, it’s the rough number of people who work at UC Davis and commute into town generating the impacts I suggested. And yes, we could actually increase that number to 50,000 to account for the bidirectional commute on a daily basis (btw, you complain about traffic and how long it takes to get to South Davis and don’t acknowledge that you’re policies contribute to that problem). You point out correctly that 30,000 new inhabitants (which is actually a low number if all the people who commute moved to Davis) would swell the city’s population but fail to consider halfway or partway measures that could reduce the commute number and thus reduce the impacts. BTW, I’m not arguing for anything just want you to start thinking through this stuff a bit more than you have. Finally, there will be impacts if you do something and there will be impacts if you do nothing. Figuring out the best way forward would be advantageous though it will never solve all problems.
David says: “Both of you guys did the exact same thing.”
Suggest that you re-read my comments, and respond to that (instead of what you think I said).
But I actually think the most IMPORTANT thing I noted is that this price differential will ensure that most (newer) UCD employees (including those with household members who work at places other than UCD) will continue living wherever they currently live. Some living in Davis, some living outside of Davis.
As far as I know, UCD itself (the Davis campus) isn’t even increasing the number of its employees.
So, whether or not you view (whatever the number actually is) of those commuting to UCD from outside of the city (or those commuting from Davis to Sacramento, for example) as a “crisis” is largely irrelevant.
And again, living in Davis doesn’t guarantee that UCD employees will “walk” or “bike” to campus in the first place.
As I mentioned, one of the few times during my working career that I “drove” to work was the time that I lived AND worked in Davis. When I subsequently got a job in Sacramento, I took a bus (because my employer fully subsidized it, and it was expensive to park there).
And as I recall, you ALSO drive to work (despite both living and working in Davis).
I don’t blame you for that, and at least you drive a hybrid (as I recall you mentioning).
Today, I witnessed (at the county fair site in Woodland) a “classic/hot rod” car show, with plenty of the type of exhaust you can actually smell. (And I didn’t even go into the fairgrounds – just the apparent “staging area” at county fair mall.) Point being there’s all kinds of that activity going on across the country and elsewhere. Boats, off-road vehicles, etc. – all of it contributing to the “crisis”. If you really wanted to dive into all of the unnecessary contributions to climate change (including soccer moms), it would be more than one Vanguard article.
Now, would I propose eliminating all of those things? No.
So people commuting to Davis because they work in Davis is a crisis.
Ummm okay?
David says: “Every so often, a familiar narrative resurfaces in our community: that there is no housing shortage. That the crisis we see unfolding in cities across California is somehow fabricated, exaggerated, or misdiagnosed. That the problem isn’t the supply of housing, but simply where it’s located, who wants it, or how it’s allocated. That the market, left to its own devices, has done enough.”
It isn’t just “every so often” (nor is your advocacy). Nor is it only in “our” (your) community – it’s a nationwide study. There simply isn’t a shortage of buildings, for the most part. And certainly not in the Sacramento region.
David says: “Cheap housing in places like Gary, Youngstown, or Flint does little good for a family in Sacramento, San Jose, or Los Angeles trying to live near a job.”
Are you kidding me? Lumping-in Sacramento with places like Flint, but also places like San Jose?
But no one is stating that the market has “done enough” in regard to those at the bottom of the economic ladder. But again, that has nothing to do with a shortage of buildings. It is a mismatch between what the market provides, vs. income.
In regard to how the “shortage” narrative came to be, here’s a description of how that occurred (which also references the study):
“How did such a powerful consensus come together? As the saying goes, follow the money. Government subsidies and tax breaks for housing construction makes real estate developers fabulously wealthy. Banks, realtors, and corporate builders prosper from new construction, too. These industries’ fingerprints are all over the reams of reports and articles claiming that we must build our way out of the housing crisis. As Politico reported in November, “Lobbyists are scrambling to get help from Washington to goose the housing market.”
https://www.commondreams.org/opinion/affordable-housing-crisis
David says: “That’s not a call to return to 1990s-style sprawl. It’s a recognition that we must grow, and that some of that growth will happen at the edges of our cities. The key is how we grow.”
The “edge” of cities that you’re referring to is called “sprawl” – it’s OUTSIDE of cities. Now, if you want to advocate for sprawl, just say so – but don’t try to hide what it is.
David says: “To those who say there is no housing shortage, I ask: whom are you speaking for?”
If you’re asking me, I am addressing the number of housing units that already exist (per the study I cited), comparing it to population size, household formation, lack of children going forward, etc. This is not the type of analysis that is done at an “individual/personal” level. And again, it’s not “my” analysis – it’s a university study.
You can cite absurd examples of individuals whom you don’t know if you’d like, but it doesn’t mean there’s a shortage in the number of buildings. And since when were you elected to speak on behalf of those individuals whom you don’t know, and despite a lack of “lived experience”? Much like you do for those whom you claim are victims of systemic racism?
David asks: “Are you saying it because you have already purchased your home (or homes) and don’t need to consider issues like supply, availability, affordability, transportation and the like?”
Me? No – that’s not what I’m saying, at least. But it is interesting that neither one of us are from our original home towns. Were you priced out of there years ago as well (while ending up in subsidized housing – even in a much cheaper city? If so, I’m not sure whether to congratulate you for adjusting, or ask why you need subsidized housing yourself, in light of this fact. You’re certainly not a victim of systemic racism or redlining, right? Could it be related to the type of business you’ve dedicated yourself to?
Quoting myself: “It is a mismatch between what the market provides, vs. income.”
Actually, even that isn’t a complete response. It’s a mismatch between what others CAN afford (e.g., highly-compensated tech workers/owners), vs. anyone else who tries to move to an area like the Silicon Valley. If I tried to move there, for example, some might label “me” as a “victim of a housing crisis”. Whereas I’d have an entirely different name for that – in regard to a basic/fundamental failure to do even the most basic research BEFORE moving there. I also don’t expect to be moving to Hong Kong or Manhattan anytime soon, or attempting to purchase a vacation home in Jackson Hole (for the same reason).
Meanwhile, there’s still some “leftovers” in those areas from the days before the technology industry took-over that area, and turned against long-term, middle-class residents. Those long-term residents are the people who could benefit if Trump’s (informal) proposal to eliminate capital gains on the sale of a primary home becomes law. (Well, them, plus the real estate agents/brokers.) It would also, however, likely cause housing prices in those areas to rise further, as it would provide yet another financial incentive to own a house in such areas. (Assuming that prices continue to rise, as a result of the continued pursuit of the technology industry.)
Speaking of Jackson Hole, I know someone who lived there when it was cheap mountain living. He has a friend who is still there, and was apparently able to purchase a home on a UPS delivery-person salary, back in the day. (Needless to say, those days are long gone.) It is now a playground for the ultra-wealthy.