In the richest country on Earth, the absence of shelter for millions is not a glitch, it's a design flaw. It is a result of economic choices, policy inaction, and a systemic failure to recognize housing as a fundamental human right. Homelessness, in its current scale and persistence, is not just a moral failing, it's an economic contradiction that undermines the very logic of a functioning, modern society.
Let’s state what should be obvious: in an economy that creates trillions of dollars out of credit, derivatives, and speculative wealth, the idea that we “can’t afford” to house our people doesn’t hold water. We mint billionaires with the stroke of a pen, yet claim there’s not enough funding to build small, dignified homes. This is not a matter of resources, it's a matter of priorities.
The American housing crisis exists because we allow it to. We’ve accepted a model where shelter is allocated based on market outcomes, not human needs. We treat property as a speculative asset instead of a social foundation. And so, homes sit empty while people sleep on sidewalks. Entire neighborhoods are paid up by investment firms and left underutilized, driving prices up and access down.
Meanwhile, the very mechanics of our financial system reveal a stark irony: the U.S. dollar isn’t backed by gold or oil, it's backed by trust and policy. It’s a fiat currency. That means we have the ability to create money to fund priorities. We do it often: for war, for bailouts, for tax breaks. But rarely, if ever, do we deploy this power to house the unhoused. In fact, the Federal Reserve has injected trillions into financial markets in recent years, yet we still treat affordable housing as a budgetary burden rather than an economic accelerator.
And what about the shelters? Temporary, overburdened, and often governed by strict rules that strip people of agency. They offer momentary relief, but not solutions. We ask people to rebuild their lives under curfews, under surveillance, under ceilings that disappear by morning. It’s not stability, it's a revolving door.
To understand the present, we must also confront the past. America has a long history of providing shelter to those it deemed useful; enslaved Africans were given quarters, not out of compassion, but to maintain their productivity. When slavery ended, that minimal stability disappeared. No reparations. No land. No wealth transfer. Just freedom without a floor to stand on. That legacy is not behind us. It is embedded in the disparities we see today: in wealth, in housing, in access.
We cannot talk about economics without talking about exclusion. Economic growth without equitable distribution leads to precisely what we see now: record high stock markets alongside record high homelessness. Incarcerated individuals receive housing and meals because the state deems it necessary. But a person who has committed no crime and simply fallen through the cracks? They’re offered conditions far worse than prison. That is not just ironic, it is policy failure at the most fundamental level.
It’s time to stop seeing housing as a reward for market participation and start seeing it as a prerequisite for economic participation. When people have stable shelter, they can address health, find work, and contribute to their communities. Housing is the ground floor of economic mobility.
We need a national approach that treats housing like we treat roads and public schools: as infrastructure. Not luxury. Not welfare. Infrastructure.
This is not just about economics, it's about economic integrity. If our economy can sustain mega-mansions and speculative skyscrapers, it can support the construction of affordable, modest housing units with bathrooms, kitchens, and doors that lock. Units that restore not only security, but dignity.
In the end, the question isn’t whether we can afford to fix homelessness. The question is whether we can afford not to. The longer we delay, the more we lose not just in dollars, but in lives, in potential, in trust.
An economy that leaves millions unhoused is not efficient. It is not ethical. And it is not sustainable. It’s time to rebuild from the ground up, starting with a place to call home.