A STUDENT'S VIEW - I belong to a generation that was still growing up when California voters approved Proposition 47 in 2014. We had no voice in that decision. But today, my generation is coming of age in a California shaped by its consequences.
We see homelessness on our sidewalks and people struggling with addiction in public. We hear adults debate whether the answer is more housing, more treatment, stronger laws, or billions more in government spending. What we do not hear often enough is a simpler question: What happens when compassion removes consequences but fails to replace them with effective intervention?
A new report from the Public Policy Institute of California raises that question in a way our state cannot afford to ignore.
Proposition 47 reduced certain nonviolent drug-possession and property offenses from felonies to misdemeanors. The goal was understandable: reduce incarceration and move California toward rehabilitation.
But good intentions do not guarantee good outcomes.
PPIC researchers estimate that Proposition 47 contributed to roughly a 10% increase in unsheltered homelessness between 2015 and 2019, resulting in about 7,000 additional Californians experiencing unsheltered homelessness. Researchers also found evidence that drug use, measured through overdose deaths and hospitalizations, increased approximately 7% to 8%, while the number of Californians receiving drug treatment declined by an estimated 20%.
Researchers suggest that reducing drug offenses to misdemeanors also reduced the leverage courts had to direct people into treatment. California wanted fewer people caught in the criminal justice system. But if people struggling with serious addiction were left with fewer opportunities or incentives to enter treatment, can we really call that compassion?
Compassion Cannot Mean Looking Away
This is not an argument for throwing everyone suffering from addiction into jail. Addiction is not something we can incarcerate our way out of. But ignoring destructive behavior isn’t compassion either.
People suffering from severe addiction may not voluntarily seek treatment. Sometimes intervention is necessary. A justice system can impose consequences while also creating a path toward treatment, recovery, and another chance.
Accountability and compassion can exist together.
California’s mistake may have been believing that reducing punishment automatically meant helping people. If someone avoids jail but remains addicted, untreated, and sleeping under a freeway, what exactly have we accomplished?
We changed the government’s response. We did not necessarily change that person’s life.
Homelessness Is More Complicated Than One Law
The PPIC research does not conclude that Proposition 47 caused California’s entire homelessness crisis. That distinction matters.
Housing costs matter. Poverty matters. Mental illness matters. Addiction matters. Loss of income matters. The research also found evidence that increases in permanent housing beds were associated with decreases in homelessness after the pandemic.
This cannot become an argument in which one side says homelessness is entirely about housing while another says it is entirely about drugs. California should recognize both realities: People need housing, and people suffering from serious addiction need treatment.
Putting someone indoors without addressing a dangerous addiction may not be enough. Punishing someone without offering treatment isn’t enough either. California needs housing, treatment, and accountability.
California Voters Changed Course
In 2024, California voters approved Proposition 36, partially reversing elements of Proposition 47 by allowing tougher consequences for certain repeat drug and theft offenses and creating a treatment-focused process for some repeat drug offenders.
That vote suggested Californians were reconsidering whether the balance struck a decade earlier was working. But tougher penalties alone will not solve this crisis.
California must make sure treatment actually exists when people need it. That means sufficient detoxification facilities, rehabilitation programs, mental-health professionals, recovery beds, and long-term services. Otherwise, we risk replacing one incomplete policy with another.
My Generation Deserves Better
Adults created these policies. My generation will inherit their results.
We will inherit the cost of homelessness, the condition of our public spaces and the government programs that work as well as those that don’t. Eventually, we will inherit responsibility for fixing them.
California should learn something larger from the debate over Proposition 47:
Compassion should be measured by outcomes, not intentions.
A policy isn’t compassionate simply because politicians call it reform. It is compassionate when fewer people are addicted, more people receive treatment, fewer people sleep on sidewalks and families get their loved ones back.
California does not have to choose between compassion and accountability.
We need both.
Because leaving someone trapped in addiction on a sidewalk isn’t mercy.
It is abandonment.
(Shoshannah Kalaydjian is a young Jewish student who writes about education, identity, and the challenges facing the next generation. Growing up in today’s climate, she has witnessed firsthand how rising antisemitism affects young people in classrooms and on college campuses. She is committed to sharing the perspectives of Jewish youth, amplifying student voices, and encouraging leaders to create safer, more inclusive environments for all students.)
