Back in March, SPUR Regional Strategy published a report called: "What It Will Really Take to Create an Affordable Bay Area." Much of its focus is on all of the housing that the San Francisco Bay Area should have been building over the years and all of the housing that it will need to start building in order to prevent things from getting worse.

Here are a few stats to put things into perspective. Since 2000, the Bay Area has added about 1 million people (about a 15% increase). From 2011 to 2017, the Bay Area also added some 658,000 jobs, but only created about 140,000 new housing units. That's 4.7 jobs for every new house built. SPUR further estimates that over the last 20 years, there has been a shortfall of almost 700,000 new housing units.

If you look at the above chart showing residential building permits issued between 1980 and 2018, you can see that the Bay Area was actually more prolific in the 1980s -- peaking at nearly 50,000 units per year. Those levels have yet to happen again, despite the region growing in population. (If you looked at new housing units per capita or some other normalized metric, the supply decline would be even more pronounced.)

Part of the reason for this is that the supply of housing in the 1980s had a higher percentage of low-rise single-family homes. We could get into a discussion about sustainability, but that's not the topic of today's post. The reality is that this housing typology was easier, faster, and cheaper to build as compared to today's urban infill housing. We have made it very difficult to build.

To download a copy of the SPUR report, click here.

Let's say that we have a piece of development land worth $100. That is the market value of the land based on its highest and best use at this particular point in time. Now let's assume that the land was just encumbered with a new burden: inclusionary zoning. All of a sudden there is now a requirement to make available X% of any residential units built at 50% of average market rents for the area.

Technically, the land is now worth less than $100. And there is a school of thought out there that, in instances like this one, the price of all land should automatically reset downward to offset and account for the inclusionary zoning burden. But as I have argued before on the blog, land prices tend to be fairly sticky, unless the owner is distressed and really needs to sell.

So what can often happen is that the land owner will stubbornly cling to the original $100 number. The thinking being, "I was once told that my land is worth $100 and so that's the minimum price I'm willing to accept." In this scenario, you may need a broad increase in rents in order for a transaction to occur. This way the market rate units might be able to fully subsidize these new affordable units, preserving any margins and justifying the original $100 number.

Of course, the impact of inclusionary zoning is a hotly debated topic and there are a number of variables to consider. And so I will leave it at that for today. The real purpose of this post is to consider another permutation. Let's once again say that we have a piece of development land worth $100. But instead of being owned by 13 siblings -- and 3 cousins that live abroad and can't be reached other than by fax -- it's owned by the government.

In this case, the government wants to sell the land and is considering two options. It can either (1) sell it for $100 and maximize immediate taxpayer revenue or (2) it can sell it for $80 with the condition that the buyer agree to deliver X% of affordable units (and a bunch of other goodies and positive externalities). I would also add that this fictitious town is experiencing what some might call a housing crisis.

If you were a private sector actor, you would probably choose option 1. You would take the additional $20 and retire to Florida (I'm off by a few zeros). But this is the government we're talking about and presumably the government is thinking about the broader public good. Which option do you think is better at maximizing that?

This past week, San Francisco's Proposition E was approved by 55% of voters. The measure works by limiting new office development if (or when) the city falls short of its affordable housing target for the year.

If the city only builds 25% of its housing target (currently set at 2,042 affordable units per year), then only 25% of its annual allocation of office space can be built the following year. (I just learned that large scale office development in San Francisco has been limited to 875,000 sf per year as a result of a Proposition dating back to 1986.)

San Francisco currently skews heavily in favor of jobs. The city creates about 8.5 jobs for every unit of new housing. And over the last decade, SF has only averaged about 712 affordable housing units per year and has never once met its target.

So at the moment, San Francisco looks destined to start building a lot less office space. And considering that new office space actually helps to fund affordable housing, I am struggling to understand why the goal seems to be to constrain job growth.

California State Senator Scott Wiener called Prop E a dumpster fire:

Call me old fashioned, but I tend to think that if the goal is to build more affordable housing, you should do things that, you know, encourage the actual construction of affordable housing.

Photo by Eduardo Santos on Unsplash