We have sent human beings to the moon. We have built cities in deserts, bridges across oceans, and machines capable of performing tasks that once belonged entirely to science fiction.
We can transplant hearts, develop artificial intelligence, and construct buildings that reach into the clouds.
And yet, somehow, we cannot figure out how to keep people from sleeping on sidewalks.
Now, here's a thought.
Perhaps the question isn't why we cannot solve homelessness.
Perhaps it's why, after spending so much trying, we still haven't figured out how.
A Billion Dollars and a Question
Consider Los Angeles.
During fiscal year 2024–2025, the City of Los Angeles and Los Angeles County reported spending more than $1.1 billion on homelessness-related programs.
During that period, the estimated homeless population declined by approximately 4 percent.
That is progress. But more than 72,000 people remained homeless.
Behind every one of those numbers is a human being. Someone's parent, child, friend, or neighbor. Someone whose life has taken a turn that most of us hope never to experience.
We should recognize every person helped, every family reunited, and every individual who finds a safe place to sleep.
But we must also ask whether our collective efforts are achieving what we intended.
Are we measuring success by how much we spend, or by how many lives we change?
When Spending Becomes the Achievement
Government programs often begin with the best intentions.
A problem is identified. Funding is approved. Organizations are established. Programs are launched.
And over time, the conversation begins to revolve around budgets, staffing, and the need for additional resources.
We celebrate another hundred million dollars allocated to homelessness.
But shouldn't we be celebrating when another thousand people no longer need that assistance?
Money is a resource. It is not an outcome.
Imagine hiring a contractor to repair a leaking roof.
The contractor arrives with an impressive team, expensive equipment, detailed schedules, and beautifully prepared progress reports.
A year later, the budget is exhausted.
You look up.
The roof is still leaking.
Would your first response be to increase the budget?
Or would you ask why the problem remains?
The Problem Is Not One Problem
Homelessness, of course, is far more complicated than a leaking roof.
And people are not construction projects.
For some, homelessness begins with the loss of a job or an unexpected medical bill. For others, it follows a family crisis, domestic violence, addiction, or serious mental illness.
Some need temporary financial assistance. Others need affordable housing, medical treatment, or long-term support.
There is no single solution because there is no single cause.
Perhaps that is where we should begin.
Not by asking how to expand the system, but by asking whether we truly understand the different people it is intended to serve.
Compassion and Accountability
There is something deeply troubling about seeing a person sleeping on a sidewalk while the rest of the world walks past.
It should trouble us.
No one should have to live without safety, dignity, or hope.
But compassion cannot be measured by the amount of money we are willing to spend.
It must also be reflected in what that money accomplishes.
Questioning the effectiveness of homelessness programs is not a lack of compassion.
Quite the opposite.
If we genuinely care about people experiencing homelessness, shouldn't we insist that our efforts make a meaningful difference in their lives?
Compassion and accountability are not opposing values.
They belong together.
Perhaps We Are Asking the Wrong Question
We often ask, How much more money do we need to solve homelessness?
Perhaps we should first ask:
What have we learned from the money we have already spent?
What is working?
What is not?
And why aren't we doing more of what succeeds?
These are not accusations. They are questions that deserve thoughtful answers.
Homelessness is too serious to become a contest between political positions, competing organizations, or budget priorities.
It is about people.
People who deserve more than our sympathy.
They deserve our best thinking, our most effective efforts, and our willingness to change course when something isn't working.
A Final Thought
Perhaps we will never eliminate every instance of homelessness.
Human lives are complicated, and no society can prevent every hardship.
But surely we can do better.
Perhaps we have spent too many years putting Band-Aids on a wound without adequately addressing what keeps it from healing.
Temporary relief is necessary. It can protect lives and restore dignity. But relief alone cannot replace lasting solutions.
Maybe the problem isn't simply that we need more money or more programs.
Maybe we need to fundamentally rethink the process itself.
We possess extraordinary resources, remarkable technology, and an abundance of human ingenuity.
What we need is the courage to question familiar approaches, distinguish good intentions from meaningful results, and change course when necessary.
Because ultimately, success should not be measured by the size of the budget or the number of programs we create.
It should be measured by the number of people who regain the dignity, stability, and security of a place to call home.
Now, here's a thought…
What if we stopped asking how much we're willing to spend on homelessness—and started asking how many lives we're determined to change?
— Julian Vale