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The real estate lobby is using its power to advance a flurry of anti-squatter bills to push back against tenant protections enacted in the early years of the Covid-19 pandemic. Lawmakers should not take the bait.
Alabama, Tennessee, and Florida’s new anti-squatter laws all went into effect in the last two months, the latest exhibit of the real estate industry’s influence in American politics. In this year alone, at least 10 states have considered legislation that revokes tenancy rights, making squatting—when someone moves into a vacant building or onto uninhabited land—a criminal matter instead of civil one.
While the fear-mongering around squatting started as a right-wing talking point, now anti-squatter bills have passed in several states with bipartisan support. Earlier this year, in New York, where Democrats dominate politics, Gov. Kathy Hochul and several state legislators took a victory lap after passing a budget bill that declared that squatters don’t have the same rights as tenants, and to support property owners statewide.
Some would assume that these legislative actions were taken in response to a threat of a mass takeover of homes in cities across the country. But in reality, as many experts have rightly pointed out, squatting is extremely rare. A threat does exist, which is why we’re seeing a rise in this legislation. It’s just not to property owners. It’s to the power of the real estate lobby.
The manufactured crisis around squatters is meant to distract from the fact that over half of Americans struggle to pay their rent or mortgage every month.
As outlined in a new report by the Private Equity Stakeholder Project and others, the real estate lobby is a sprawling, interconnected group of representatives from the top corporate apartment owners and managers in the country, who—by having members sit on each other’s boards—can tap into an enormous shared pool of resources that they’re using to destabilize communities across the country.
The lobby is using this power to advance a flurry of anti-squatter bills to push back against tenant protections enacted in the early years of the Covid-19 pandemic. This was a time when millions of people in the United States were kept in their homes thanks to policies like rental assistance expansion and foreclosure and eviction moratoria. For many of us, it was the first time we witnessed our country recognize the public health and economic value of keeping people in their homes. These protections made clear that regardless of race, class, or housing tenure, housing stability is the foundation for thriving communities.
Now, real estate industry groups, the second biggest lobbying spender in the U.S., are using anti-squatter legislation in a desperate attempt to undercut that progress. Capitalizing on America’s heightened anxiety about the housing crisis, they are scaring people into believing that tenant protections come at the expense of homeowners. Lawmakers should not take the bait.
At best, these bills are reactionary responses to a problem that doesn’t exist. At worst, they represent the worst of election season fear-mongering: anti-immigrant sentiment, dog-whistle racism, and calls for law and order. Look no further than the Florida attorney general’s celebration of legislation declaring that immigrants were taking over homes across the state, based on a viral TikTok. In reality, most states already have laws that address squatters adequately—it’s tenant protections that remain significantly weaker relative to property rights.
Advancing anti-squatter legislation is a slippery slope to eroding eviction protections passed during the last few years, and that’s exactly what the real estate lobby wants: They themselves refer to squatter legislation as “eviction policy.” Clearly, they are hoping to put legislators on a path to repealing hard-fought regulations to protect tenants by inferring a false equating of squatters (who live in vacant properties without legal agreements) and tenants (who legally inhabit homes with leases).The bills put any resident with tenant or ownership interest at risk of immediate displacement, often by a law enforcement agency, without the normal requirement of notice, proof, and judicial review before someone is removed from their home.
But their efforts to undo these gains won’t be easy, because the tide has turned in support of tenant protections as a way to address our housing crisis. In poll after poll, people in the United States say they want to see governments take action to alleviate the cost of housing. This has quickly become a front-burner issue for Americans and a top priority for them in the presidential election, only second to inflation. A recent survey of voters in battleground states found that 82% of renters believe that, if addressed, the cost of rent and housing would make their personal situation better.
The manufactured crisis around squatters is meant to distract from the fact that over half of Americans struggle to pay their rent or mortgage every month. And that a tenant-led movement to change this reality is building political power, winning local elections, and influencing federal policy.
Considering this, one can see why the real estate lobby, which amassed over $2.5 billion in revenue during the height of the pandemic, is grasping at straws to stay relevant to legislators. While it’s trying to ramp up efforts to unravel tenant protections, the lobby itself—the National Association of Realtors (NAR)—is unraveling. From Department of Justice investigations and anti-trust lawsuits to sexual harassment allegations, and a musical chairs of presidents and CEOs in the last two years, members are not happy. In October 2023, Redfin announced it would require many of its brokers to cancel their NAR memberships and stop paying dues. Reports of NAR running out of liability insurance coverage and rumors of real estate moguls starting alternative associations show cracks in a foundation that will be difficult to repair. No amount of fresh paint, even if it is in the form of throwing tenants under the bus, can fix such dysfunction. But they’ll try as long as they can.
As America increasingly becomes a nation of renters, lawmakers can’t lose sight of the bigger picture: We have a housing crisis, not a squatter crisis. Millions of people calling on leaders to alleviate their suffering cannot afford to be sold out with this distraction. Lawmakers should pass policies that we know advance housing stability, instead of doing the bidding of those attacking it.
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Alabama, Tennessee, and Florida’s new anti-squatter laws all went into effect in the last two months, the latest exhibit of the real estate industry’s influence in American politics. In this year alone, at least 10 states have considered legislation that revokes tenancy rights, making squatting—when someone moves into a vacant building or onto uninhabited land—a criminal matter instead of civil one.
While the fear-mongering around squatting started as a right-wing talking point, now anti-squatter bills have passed in several states with bipartisan support. Earlier this year, in New York, where Democrats dominate politics, Gov. Kathy Hochul and several state legislators took a victory lap after passing a budget bill that declared that squatters don’t have the same rights as tenants, and to support property owners statewide.
Some would assume that these legislative actions were taken in response to a threat of a mass takeover of homes in cities across the country. But in reality, as many experts have rightly pointed out, squatting is extremely rare. A threat does exist, which is why we’re seeing a rise in this legislation. It’s just not to property owners. It’s to the power of the real estate lobby.
The manufactured crisis around squatters is meant to distract from the fact that over half of Americans struggle to pay their rent or mortgage every month.
As outlined in a new report by the Private Equity Stakeholder Project and others, the real estate lobby is a sprawling, interconnected group of representatives from the top corporate apartment owners and managers in the country, who—by having members sit on each other’s boards—can tap into an enormous shared pool of resources that they’re using to destabilize communities across the country.
The lobby is using this power to advance a flurry of anti-squatter bills to push back against tenant protections enacted in the early years of the Covid-19 pandemic. This was a time when millions of people in the United States were kept in their homes thanks to policies like rental assistance expansion and foreclosure and eviction moratoria. For many of us, it was the first time we witnessed our country recognize the public health and economic value of keeping people in their homes. These protections made clear that regardless of race, class, or housing tenure, housing stability is the foundation for thriving communities.
Now, real estate industry groups, the second biggest lobbying spender in the U.S., are using anti-squatter legislation in a desperate attempt to undercut that progress. Capitalizing on America’s heightened anxiety about the housing crisis, they are scaring people into believing that tenant protections come at the expense of homeowners. Lawmakers should not take the bait.
At best, these bills are reactionary responses to a problem that doesn’t exist. At worst, they represent the worst of election season fear-mongering: anti-immigrant sentiment, dog-whistle racism, and calls for law and order. Look no further than the Florida attorney general’s celebration of legislation declaring that immigrants were taking over homes across the state, based on a viral TikTok. In reality, most states already have laws that address squatters adequately—it’s tenant protections that remain significantly weaker relative to property rights.
Advancing anti-squatter legislation is a slippery slope to eroding eviction protections passed during the last few years, and that’s exactly what the real estate lobby wants: They themselves refer to squatter legislation as “eviction policy.” Clearly, they are hoping to put legislators on a path to repealing hard-fought regulations to protect tenants by inferring a false equating of squatters (who live in vacant properties without legal agreements) and tenants (who legally inhabit homes with leases).The bills put any resident with tenant or ownership interest at risk of immediate displacement, often by a law enforcement agency, without the normal requirement of notice, proof, and judicial review before someone is removed from their home.
But their efforts to undo these gains won’t be easy, because the tide has turned in support of tenant protections as a way to address our housing crisis. In poll after poll, people in the United States say they want to see governments take action to alleviate the cost of housing. This has quickly become a front-burner issue for Americans and a top priority for them in the presidential election, only second to inflation. A recent survey of voters in battleground states found that 82% of renters believe that, if addressed, the cost of rent and housing would make their personal situation better.
The manufactured crisis around squatters is meant to distract from the fact that over half of Americans struggle to pay their rent or mortgage every month. And that a tenant-led movement to change this reality is building political power, winning local elections, and influencing federal policy.
Considering this, one can see why the real estate lobby, which amassed over $2.5 billion in revenue during the height of the pandemic, is grasping at straws to stay relevant to legislators. While it’s trying to ramp up efforts to unravel tenant protections, the lobby itself—the National Association of Realtors (NAR)—is unraveling. From Department of Justice investigations and anti-trust lawsuits to sexual harassment allegations, and a musical chairs of presidents and CEOs in the last two years, members are not happy. In October 2023, Redfin announced it would require many of its brokers to cancel their NAR memberships and stop paying dues. Reports of NAR running out of liability insurance coverage and rumors of real estate moguls starting alternative associations show cracks in a foundation that will be difficult to repair. No amount of fresh paint, even if it is in the form of throwing tenants under the bus, can fix such dysfunction. But they’ll try as long as they can.
As America increasingly becomes a nation of renters, lawmakers can’t lose sight of the bigger picture: We have a housing crisis, not a squatter crisis. Millions of people calling on leaders to alleviate their suffering cannot afford to be sold out with this distraction. Lawmakers should pass policies that we know advance housing stability, instead of doing the bidding of those attacking it.
Alabama, Tennessee, and Florida’s new anti-squatter laws all went into effect in the last two months, the latest exhibit of the real estate industry’s influence in American politics. In this year alone, at least 10 states have considered legislation that revokes tenancy rights, making squatting—when someone moves into a vacant building or onto uninhabited land—a criminal matter instead of civil one.
While the fear-mongering around squatting started as a right-wing talking point, now anti-squatter bills have passed in several states with bipartisan support. Earlier this year, in New York, where Democrats dominate politics, Gov. Kathy Hochul and several state legislators took a victory lap after passing a budget bill that declared that squatters don’t have the same rights as tenants, and to support property owners statewide.
Some would assume that these legislative actions were taken in response to a threat of a mass takeover of homes in cities across the country. But in reality, as many experts have rightly pointed out, squatting is extremely rare. A threat does exist, which is why we’re seeing a rise in this legislation. It’s just not to property owners. It’s to the power of the real estate lobby.
The manufactured crisis around squatters is meant to distract from the fact that over half of Americans struggle to pay their rent or mortgage every month.
As outlined in a new report by the Private Equity Stakeholder Project and others, the real estate lobby is a sprawling, interconnected group of representatives from the top corporate apartment owners and managers in the country, who—by having members sit on each other’s boards—can tap into an enormous shared pool of resources that they’re using to destabilize communities across the country.
The lobby is using this power to advance a flurry of anti-squatter bills to push back against tenant protections enacted in the early years of the Covid-19 pandemic. This was a time when millions of people in the United States were kept in their homes thanks to policies like rental assistance expansion and foreclosure and eviction moratoria. For many of us, it was the first time we witnessed our country recognize the public health and economic value of keeping people in their homes. These protections made clear that regardless of race, class, or housing tenure, housing stability is the foundation for thriving communities.
Now, real estate industry groups, the second biggest lobbying spender in the U.S., are using anti-squatter legislation in a desperate attempt to undercut that progress. Capitalizing on America’s heightened anxiety about the housing crisis, they are scaring people into believing that tenant protections come at the expense of homeowners. Lawmakers should not take the bait.
At best, these bills are reactionary responses to a problem that doesn’t exist. At worst, they represent the worst of election season fear-mongering: anti-immigrant sentiment, dog-whistle racism, and calls for law and order. Look no further than the Florida attorney general’s celebration of legislation declaring that immigrants were taking over homes across the state, based on a viral TikTok. In reality, most states already have laws that address squatters adequately—it’s tenant protections that remain significantly weaker relative to property rights.
Advancing anti-squatter legislation is a slippery slope to eroding eviction protections passed during the last few years, and that’s exactly what the real estate lobby wants: They themselves refer to squatter legislation as “eviction policy.” Clearly, they are hoping to put legislators on a path to repealing hard-fought regulations to protect tenants by inferring a false equating of squatters (who live in vacant properties without legal agreements) and tenants (who legally inhabit homes with leases).The bills put any resident with tenant or ownership interest at risk of immediate displacement, often by a law enforcement agency, without the normal requirement of notice, proof, and judicial review before someone is removed from their home.
But their efforts to undo these gains won’t be easy, because the tide has turned in support of tenant protections as a way to address our housing crisis. In poll after poll, people in the United States say they want to see governments take action to alleviate the cost of housing. This has quickly become a front-burner issue for Americans and a top priority for them in the presidential election, only second to inflation. A recent survey of voters in battleground states found that 82% of renters believe that, if addressed, the cost of rent and housing would make their personal situation better.
The manufactured crisis around squatters is meant to distract from the fact that over half of Americans struggle to pay their rent or mortgage every month. And that a tenant-led movement to change this reality is building political power, winning local elections, and influencing federal policy.
Considering this, one can see why the real estate lobby, which amassed over $2.5 billion in revenue during the height of the pandemic, is grasping at straws to stay relevant to legislators. While it’s trying to ramp up efforts to unravel tenant protections, the lobby itself—the National Association of Realtors (NAR)—is unraveling. From Department of Justice investigations and anti-trust lawsuits to sexual harassment allegations, and a musical chairs of presidents and CEOs in the last two years, members are not happy. In October 2023, Redfin announced it would require many of its brokers to cancel their NAR memberships and stop paying dues. Reports of NAR running out of liability insurance coverage and rumors of real estate moguls starting alternative associations show cracks in a foundation that will be difficult to repair. No amount of fresh paint, even if it is in the form of throwing tenants under the bus, can fix such dysfunction. But they’ll try as long as they can.
As America increasingly becomes a nation of renters, lawmakers can’t lose sight of the bigger picture: We have a housing crisis, not a squatter crisis. Millions of people calling on leaders to alleviate their suffering cannot afford to be sold out with this distraction. Lawmakers should pass policies that we know advance housing stability, instead of doing the bidding of those attacking it.