California voters this fall will weigh in on a ballot measure that supporters say could finally break the logjam holding back affordable housing and other critical projects across the state — including here in the Inland Empire, where the fight over environmental review rules recently played out in Redlands.
Proposition 45 would overhaul how the California Environmental Quality Act, commonly known as CEQA, applies to projects like affordable housing developments, water infrastructure, schools and clean energy facilities. Backers argue the law, while well-intentioned, has increasingly become a tool for delay rather than environmental protection.
Jenna Abbott, executive director of the California Council for Affordable Housing, says her organization sees the consequences of that dysfunction every day. Members of her trade group work to build housing for veterans, seniors and working families who have been squeezed out of the communities where they grew up or work. But instead of moving quickly, many projects get bogged down for years in a permitting system Abbott describes as outdated, unpredictable and increasingly disconnected from its original purpose.
“The result is fewer affordable homes, higher costs, and more Californians wondering if they’ll ever afford a place to live,” Abbott said. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”
Prop. 45, she argues, would preserve the state’s environmental, worker and tribal protections while creating clearer timelines and a faster process for resolving legal disputes tied to essential development projects.
Abbott stresses she is not opposed to environmental review itself. She says thorough evaluation of a project’s impact on air quality, water resources, traffic and wildlife is important, and that communities deserve input before shovels hit the ground. Prop. 45, she says, keeps those safeguards intact.
But she points to what happened in Redlands as an example of how the system can be exploited. Nearly a decade ago, a nonprofit developer proposed an all-affordable apartment community for veterans, families with special needs and working households. The 80-unit project, which included on-site support services, was the kind of development many residents say the region desperately needs.
Instead of moving forward smoothly, the project was hit with a lawsuit — not over water quality, habitat loss or pollution, but over complaints about noise and aesthetics. A court dismissed the suit in 2018, but the legal fight had already set off a cascade of delays. By the time the dust settled, the project’s cost had ballooned by $21 million, a 70% increase that worked out to roughly $266,000 in additional expense per affordable unit.
The development, known as Liberty Lane Apartments, didn’t open its doors until this past April — nine years after it originally received approval.
Abbott says that story isn’t unique. Citing research from the law firm Holland & Knight, she notes that 87% of CEQA-related lawsuits target infill housing — projects built in already-developed urban areas near jobs and transit, rather than in open space. Many of the groups filing these suits, she said, have little track record on environmental issues, suggesting the law is sometimes used as leverage for unrelated grievances rather than genuine environmental concerns.
The financial toll of these delays, Abbott argues, ultimately lands on the people who can least afford it: veterans waiting for supportive housing, seniors hoping to age in place, and essential workers forced into ever-longer commutes because they can’t afford to live near their jobs. Taxpayers also end up footing a larger bill, since delays often mean the same publicly funded projects cost far more by the time they’re finally built.
Statewide, Abbott said, permitting delays alone tack on more than $75,000 to the cost of the average new home — a significant burden in a state facing a housing shortfall in the millions of units.
And it’s not just housing that suffers, she added. Clean drinking water upgrades, road and transit improvements, new schools, health clinics and renewable energy projects can all get caught in the same bureaucratic bottleneck.
Abbott is careful to note that Prop. 45 would not repeal CEQA or strip away the state’s environmental standards. Local governments would still retain authority over what gets built in their communities, and the public would still have opportunities to weigh in. What would change, she said, is the introduction of firm deadlines and a more efficient system for resolving lawsuits, replacing years of open-ended litigation with a clearer, faster path to resolution.
She acknowledges the measure won’t single-handedly solve California’s housing affordability crisis. But she believes it targets one of the most persistent obstacles: a permitting and legal review process that too often works against the very projects meant to help struggling residents.
“California has a choice,” Abbott said. “We can continue accepting a broken status quo, or we can update our project approval process while preserving the strong protections Californians value.”
For voters across the Inland Empire and beyond, Prop. 45 will pose a fundamental question — whether the state can find a way to protect its environmental standards without letting the review process itself become the biggest barrier to building the homes and infrastructure communities need.
Original source: CalMatters
