Gavin Newsom Cannot Escape His Embarrassing Legacy on Homelessness

California Governor Gavin Newsom would very much like to be president. As one of the Democratic Party’s more charismatic leaders, he certainly has a shot. But Newsom’s presidential ambitions are burdened by the sorry state in which his leadership has left California—the cost of living is sky high, crime is out of control, and the middle class is disappearing. His constituents are voting with their feet, the largest percentage finding refuge in the two states Newsom loves to ridicule: Texas and Florida

Homelessness is perhaps the greatest albatross around the governor’s neck. With 187,000 homeless persons, California has one-quarter of America’s homeless population. A staggering two-thirds of homeless Californians are unsheltered.

But Newsom wants to assure every decent American that California’s homelessness crisis is not his fault. At least, that seems to be the subtext of his recent statement calling out California’s cities for not doing their part. “Local leaders asked for resources, [and] we delivered the largest state investment in history,” the governor announced. “The time for inaction is over. There are no more excuses.” 

Newsom’s attempt to pass the buck is unconvincing. Even his sympathetic hometown paper described the move as “cheap PR” designed to scapegoat municipal governments for his failures. 

Try as he might, Newsom cannot escape his own embarrassing legacy. He has built his political career on promises to solve homelessness ever since he became the mayor of San Francisco in 2003. It has been 20 years since Mayor Newsom unveiled his 10-year plan to end chronic homelessness by redirecting funding toward permanent supportive housing—California’s first foray into the Housing First strategy.

In 2014, the city reported on the results of Newsom’s plan. The report boasted that the city had placed more than 11,000 people in permanent supportive housing (PSH). Under the Housing First model, PSH residents are no longer included in homelessness counts, but the subsidies that sustain them still draw from homelessness funds—a formula for perpetually growing budgets. Yet even as homelessness funding ballooned by 62 percent over the decade, the city’s homeless population increased by 30 percent, and unsheltered homelessness grew by a staggering 63 percent. 

California made Housing First a statewide policy in 2016, following the path that Newsom pioneered as mayor. When he became governor in 2019, he unsurprisingly went all-in on the strategy. In his first five years, the state issued an unprecedented $24 billion in homelessness grants to local governments and nonprofits—the source of Newsom’s self-congratulatory claim that he “delivered the largest state investment in history.” Of course, he neglected to mention that state law requires recipients to adhere to the Housing First playbook that Newsom has championed throughout his career. 

Yet California’s homeless population, except in San Francisco, was declining until it adopted Housing First. Since then, homelessness has increased by roughly 10,000 persons each year, with only one brief interruption the year before Newsom became governor. 

As much as he would like voters to judge his performance by dollars spent, Newsom cannot escape responsibility for how state funds are used. Last year, the California state auditor castigated the California Interagency Council on Homelessness for neglecting to track and properly evaluate state-funded programs. 

Moreover, a significant chunk of the state’s homelessness funds went to Newsom’s pet projects. In 2020, for example, Newsom announced Project Roomkey, a $150 million endeavor to shelter the homeless in hotels during the COVID pandemic. The program was a debacle. Each room cost the state roughly $6,000 per month, and many were destroyed. City employees and hotel workers were forced to sign nondisclosure agreements threatening $1,000 fines and up to a year in prison for speaking about the dysfunction they witnessed. 

Yet instead of admitting failure, Newsom rebranded the program as Project Homekey, expanding it by $3.4 billion. Homekey became embroiled in a scandal after a politically connected nonprofit wasted more than $100 million converting seven hotels into apartment buildings. Those hotels were ultimately foreclosed on, never having taken a single person off the streets. 

No doubt Newsom will continue blaming California’s homeless crisis on anybody except himself, but his attempts to spin and scapegoat are only making him look like a bratty child. More than any other issue, Newsom has built his political career on solving homelessness. It is time he accepted responsibility for his failures.