A State-Level Housing Intervention I Support

What to do when “allowed” doesn’t mean “possible.”

We’ve developed a reflex in this country when it comes to state involvement in local issues. Call something preemption, and people immediately take sides.

State leaders talk about the need to override local obstruction. Local leaders push back against one-size-fits-all mandates. The whole conversation becomes a fight over who gets to make the decision.

It should be no surprise that I don’t find that debate particularly useful, largely because it skips over a more important question: What kind of state intervention actually makes local government work better?

Not bigger. Not more powerful. Not “the way I want it to.” Just … better.

For those who want more housing, we need to be willing to struggle with that question. In fact, if we want to get a lot of housing built quickly, it isn’t the rules we apply to housing that needs preempting. It’s the process.

The actual process of approving housing is where things tend to break down.

When housing doesn’t get built, housing advocates and lawmakers often assume the problem is the rules. What is legal and what is not. We focus on zoning codes, use restrictions, parking requirements, and all the familiar constraints. And to be clear, those things matter. Many cities need to reform them, and some already have. We have a toolkit detailing the six code reforms all cities should make to become housing ready. And once you make them, let us know and we’ll put you on the map.

But even in places that have made those changes — even in states that have been the most aggressive on preemption — the results often fall short of expectations. That’s because the biggest barrier isn’t always what is prohibited. It’s what is technically allowed, but difficult to do.

If you spend time inside city hall, you don’t see a system designed to stop people. You see staff trying to help. They answer emails. They return phone calls. They meet with applicants and try to guide them through a complicated set of rules and expectations. They are, for the most part, thoughtful, well-intentioned people working within the system they’ve been given.

From the inside, it can feel like things are working. Yet, from the outside, it often feels very different. For someone trying to build something small (a backyard cottage, a duplex conversion, a modest infill project, etc.) the experience is rarely straightforward. It’s not a clear path from idea to approval. It’s a sequence of steps, reviews, revisions and conversations that unfold over time.

Along the way, there is confusion. Different answers from different people. Requirements that shift. Feedback that arrives late in the process, after time and money have already been spent.

One incremental developer told us that after going through multiple rounds of review, they realized the first question they asked had been the wrong one. If they had known what to ask at the beginning, everything that followed would have been different. That’s not a problem of intent. It’s a problem of clarity.

And for small, local builders, clarity is everything.

Large developers can absorb delays. They can hire process consultants. They can redesign and resubmit. They have the capacity to navigate uncertainty. In fact, this capacity is their competitive advantage. They can literally outlast their competition.

Most people do not have that staying power. And when we want a city built by many hands, we need a process that works for most people. When the process is unclear, when timelines are open-ended, when the path forward depends on figuring out how the system works rather than simply following it, many potential builders opt out. They walk away, or they never try.

From the city’s perspective, nothing is obviously broken. Applications are being processed. Staff are doing their jobs. But from the outside, the signal is unmistakable: this is going to be harder than it should be. Don’t bother.

This is where I think that state government can play a constructive role.

Not by taking power away from cities. Not by dictating what must be built or where. But by defining what a fair, functional process looks like, then holding local governments to that standard.

In Minnesota, where I live, we have a rule that does exactly that. It’s often called the “60-day rule.” It doesn’t tell cities what has to be built or where. It merely sets an expectation for how cities are expected to operate.

If someone makes an application, the city has ten days to review the application and tell them, in writing, if anything is missing. The city makes the rules. Applicants make their best effort. The city documents and communicates where they have fallen short. The goalposts don’t change. That’s how you get clarity at the start.

Once the application is complete, the clock starts. The city now has sixty days to make a decision. There is some flexibility. The city can ask for additional time, but it has to explain why. And that has to be done in writing. And that extension is limited.

If the city fails to act within the required timeframe, or fails to meet one of these required steps for documentation, the application is automatically approved.

I’ve seen this happen numerous times, and courts uphold it. Automatic approval.

That’s the part that tends to get people’s attention. But what’s key to making this process work is not the penalty. It’s the expectation. If something is allowed under your rules, then the process to approve it should be clear, predictable and timely. That’s on cities, and it’s a reasonable expectation for the state to establish.

This doesn’t strip local control. Cities still decide what is allowed. They set their own zoning, their own standards, their own process. What this does is ensure that when a city says “yes” in its code, that “yes” actually means something in practice.

For builders, it creates certainty. They know what is required. They know when they will get an answer. They can make decisions based on a real timeline, not an open-ended process.

For city staff, it creates structure. Expectations are clear. Priorities are easier to manage. The work becomes more consistent and easier to defend.

It doesn’t make government smaller. It makes it more reliable. It makes it the partner we need it to be.

If we’re serious about getting more housing built, we need to expand the conversation. Yes, we should talk about zoning reform. But we also need to talk about process. About clarity. About timelines. About accountability.

Because right now, in too many places, we have systems where things are technically allowed but practically difficult. That’s not a failure of local intent. It’s a failure of system design.

And it’s exactly the kind of problem that state government — at its best — can help solve.

If you’re interested in how to grow your own local developers, we created a toolkit for that, which you can access for free (thank you, Strong Towns members). And if you are a member, check your email for an invitation to the Strong Towns Commons, where city staff, incremental developers and more are having an ongoing conversation about implementing Strong Towns ideas in their place.

Written by:
Charles Marohn

Charles Marohn (known as “Chuck” to friends and colleagues) is the founder and president of Strong Towns and the bestselling author of “Escaping the Housing Trap: The Strong Towns Response to the Housing Crisis.” With decades of experience as a land use planner and civil engineer, Marohn is on a mission to help cities and towns become stronger and more prosperous. He spreads the Strong Towns message through in-person presentations, the Strong Towns Podcast, and his books and articles. In recognition of his efforts and impact, Planetizen named him one of the 15 Most Influential Urbanists of all time in 2017 and 2023.