Short term-rentals are ruining what we love about life in small California towns | Opinion
Once a year, on Halloween night, hundreds of costumed trick-or-treaters visit my neighborhood in the town of Three Rivers, California. Our town draws nostalgic parents with its authentic Halloween experience — an island stuck in the 1950s. Some families rent a home for the night; others drive from nearby towns. But during the last five years, there has been a shift: It’s the same number of kids trick-or-treating, but fewer houses handing out candy. What before was a colorful row of houses is now a dark row of short-term rentals.
Short-term rentals (STR) are converted houses travelers can book for a few nights. These STRs, which are often listed on Airbnb, are an attractive alternative to hotels. Who wouldn’t want to rent an entire home for the price of a hotel room? Due to demand, the STR market has become highly lucrative, incentivizing homeowners to convert long-term rentals to more profitable STRs. The profitability has also led investors to purchase affordable houses at the expense of the marginalized working class.
Opinion
In 2021, in California alone, there were over 300,000 STRs on Airbnb’s website. That is more housing than is needed to shelter every homeless person in the state. In Three Rivers, my little Tulare County town of just under 3,000 people seated at the gateway of Seqouia National Park, short-term rentals comprise 22% of the housing, almost eliminating long-term rentals. The few long-term rentals competing with STRs are exceedingly costly, making it difficult for the National Park to retain employees who cannot afford where they live. One permanent employee I spoke with who has a PhD rents an old RV.
Meanwhile, eviction is rising across the state due to increasing costs and the loss of affordable housing. California struggles to build enough affordable housing to keep home prices low. In my town, fewer young families are moving in due to housing costs, and the consequences of this have been felt in shrinking school enrollment and the closure of the only preschool.
STRs are not homes, they are income for investors — keeping a house unavailable to people who need a permanent home. Often, STR investors don’t live in the community, paying cleaners and managers to run the business. Distancing themselves from the operation makes it easy to miss how their actions are reshaping the identity of a community. The housing market has become a stock exchange — treating houses as commodities to trade and use at will for the greatest profit.
Many small towns like mine thrive on tourism, and STRs attract tourists and draw customers to local businesses. But at what expense? Investors recognize that cultural and unique places are profitable. Ironically, they end up diluting and fragmenting these communities.
Most importantly, we must consider what a home is. Where are our priorities? In money or in community?
It can be difficult to find solutions in a complicated situation such as this one, with many players involved, from corporations to renters. We must consider boycotting the STR industry. Is it ethical to rent an entire house for only a weekend stay? If you are considering investing in real estate, maybe rethink and choose to invest in your community. After all, wealth is not happiness.
The ethical responsibility of a “home” owner dissolves quickly in a free market. We must use the government to hold STRs accountable.
Regulation is necessary for an equitable state that cares about its communities. We must advocate at the city, county and state level for change. Solutions like those proposed in California Senate Bill 584, which intends to use STR taxes to fund affordable housing, would be good for housing advocates and investors.
Jesse Morris is a California high school senior and fellow with the Youth Leadership Institute Calafia journalism program.
