Why Canât I Afford a Home?
Act 1: The Insurmountable ChallengeIn 1817, New York voted to dig a ditch. And not just any ditch. A grand canal! Dug by hand, 363 miles long, across forests, swamps, and rock. Most experts scoffed. George Washington had dismissed similar ideas decades earlier. Thomas Jefferson called it âa little short of madness.âAt the time, farmers and manufacturers in the West faced a brutal choice. To reach markets, they had to send their goods down the Mississippi River to New Orleans, the countryâs greatest seaport. From there, shipments went out through the Gulf, around Florida, up the Atlantic, and finally to cities like New York or Philadelphia. It was slow. It was costly. And it made western settlers dependent on a southern trade route they couldnât control.The Erie Canal wasnât dreamed up by powerful men in Albany. The idea came from a flour merchant named Jesse Hawley. He had a strong customer base, but to move his flour to market, he had to ship it by wagon over the Appalachian trails or float it on rivers that ran the wrong way. He went broke, ended up in debtorsâ prison, and there picked up a pen. In a series of essays in 1807 and 1808, he sketched a bold plan: a canal from Lake Erie to the Hudson River. He mapped the route, described the locks, and argued the benefits. He didnât have all the details, but he had vision, and he put it on paper.New York City mayor and later Governor DeWitt Clinton picked up that vision and ran with it. He wasnât an engineer or a canal man. He was a politician with a sense of scale. Clinton saw what Hawleyâs prison essays meant: an inland waterway would break dependence on the Mississippi, open the interior, and turn New York into the nationâs gateway.As Governor, Clinton pushed the legislature to back the canal in 1817. The cost was staggering. Seven million dollars, one state spending roughly a third of the entire federal governmentâs annual budget. Critics mocked it as âClintonâs Ditch.â They predicted it would bankrupt New York. Some said it would never be finished.But Clinton pressed forward. He didnât sell the canal as an engineering marvel. He sold it as a doorway. At the time, moving freight from Buffalo to New York City cost one hundred dollars a ton and took weeks. Clinton promised the canal would cut that to under ten dollars, and in just a few days.The Erie Canal wasnât just a ditch. It was Americaâs first true megaproject, built long before steam shovels, bulldozers, or dynamite. It was the biggest engineering challenge of the 19th century.How did they dig it? By hand. Tens of thousands of laborers, mostly Irish immigrants and local farmers hired in the off-season, used picks, shovels, wheelbarrows, and horse-drawn carts. There were no roads. When they hit swamps, they laid down logs to make floating roads so carts wouldnât sink. When they hit limestone cliffs, they drilled holes by hand, packed them with black powder, and blasted inch by inch.The canal had to climb about 571 feet from the Hudson up to Lake Erie. To solve that, engineers built 83 locks; locks are stone elevators for boats. No one had done this on such a scale in America before. They were inventing the craft as they went.But they finished it in just eight years.When water first flowed in 1825, it wasnât just an engineering triumph. It was an economic revolution. Shipping costs dropped from $100 a ton to under $10. A journey that took weeks now took days. It made bread cheaper. It put tools in the hands of farmers. It made New York City the nationâs port. It opened the Midwest to settlement. Within a generation, roughly three-fifths of the nationâs trade moved through New Yorkâs harbor, powered by the canal. Today, we face another insurmountable challenge: a housing crisis.Instead of a wilderness of rivers, swamps, and mountains, we face a wilderness of bureaucracy. A maze of zoning codes, permit boards, and fragmented governance. Each with its own tolls and delays. Builders spend months fighting hearings and paperwork before they ever turn a shovel, driving up costs and denying millions the chance to build equity through homeownership.Then, as now, we face skepticism from critics who believe working-class Americans arenât worthy of bold projects. Washington dismissed it. Jefferson called it madness. The rich, who owned the existing shipping lanes, mocked the project as âClintonâs Ditch.â Today, skeptics argue that small, affordable homes arenât profitable or that zoning reforms are too radical. Politicians treat it as impossible.But every bold fix begins as madness.Housing is our canal. Itâs not a matter of skill or resources. We have both. Itâs a matter of clarity, incentives, and purpose. Just as Clinton used a bold state project to open opportunity, we could use a Small Business Innovation Research program to open the housing market.As of mid-2025, the US median home price sits at around $410,800, while median household income is estimated at $84,000. This makes homes over 4.8 times income, compared to just twice in the 1960s. A record 22 million renter households are cost-burdened, spending over 30% of income on housing, and affordability is at an all-time low. Programs like USDAâs SBIR for rural development and HUDâs $20 million innovation grants (with recent deadlines in July 2025) show the tools exist. We just need to earmark them for starter homes under $150,000, tied to zoning reforms that cut red tape.This isnât about handouts; itâs about competition driving innovation, much like Hawleyâs essays sparked a revolution. Instead of a canal, letâs build a pathway to the American Dream for the working class.Act 2: The Crisis Today â Voices from the Ground(Voice: Young Homebuyer; mid-20s female, fiery with a mix of grit, sarcasm, and unshakable hope. Think a teacher whoâs had it but wonât quit. Background: Gritty urban soundscape. Honking cabs, slamming apartment doors, distant subway rumble, fading in and out.)Picture me: 25, a teacher in a mid-sized city, grading papers by day, tutoring by night, slinging coffee on weekends. Iâm hustling like my life depends on it...because it does. But the American Dream? Itâs slipping through my fingers like sand in a busted hourglass.Iâm not asking for a penthouse. I just want a home. A small one! 600, maybe 1,000 square feet. A bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen where I can burn my first attempt at dinner. But in 2025, thatâs a fantasy. I looked it up... the median income is something like 84 grand a year. Median home price? Try 420 thousand. Thatâs nearly five times what I make. Itâs crazy! Back in 1960, homes cost twice the income: twelve thousand on fifty-six hundred. Since then, prices ran past wages and never looked back.And I hear the pushback: âHomeownership rates are fine.â Sure, overall. But at my age, it used to be higher. By thirty, nearly 6 in 10 Americans from the Silent Generation owned a home, 1 in 2 Boomers, just under half of Gen X, and about four in ten Millennials. Today, 25â34-year-olds sit in the high 30s, recently near 36%. The overall rate didnât crash. The doorway for us did.Builders donât touch starter homes anymore. Why would they? Landâs a fortune, materials are through the roof, and zoning boards pile on fees like theyâre playing Monopoly with my future. So they churn out McMansions, the sprawling status symbols for the rich. Me? Iâm left scrounging for scraps, priced out of the game before I even roll the dice.This isnât just my story. Itâs a crisis crushing millions. Over 22 million renter households are drowning, spending more than 30% of their income on rent. Twelve million are barely breathing, forking over half their paycheck. Since 2019, home prices have spiked 60%. If youâre pulling $50 grand a year, good luck! Only one in ten listings is even close to affordable.Itâs like rowing upstream in a boat made of tissue paper. You paddle; work overtime, skip vacations, eat instant noodles, but the leaks keep coming. Rent. Student loans. Fees. They drain you dry before you can save a dime for a down payment.So we wait. We put off kids. We put off dreams. Some of us are still crashing in Momâs basement, not because weâre lazy, but because the systemâs rigged. We donât need marble countertops or three-car garages. We need homes under $150,000! Twice todayâs median income, like our grandparents had. Without that, the American Dream isnât just delayed. Itâs sinking, drifting downstream, out of reach for my entire generation.But Iâm not giving up. Thereâs a way to fight back. We need to drain this bureaucratic swamp and build a bridge to ownership. We just need the right tools, the right vision, and a whole lot of grit.Act 3: Innovation â SBIR for Housing(Voice: Policy Expert â Confident male, mid-40s, professor-like with a spark of enthusiasm, like a TED Talk speaker rallying for change. Background: Subtle office sounds: typing, flipping blueprint pages, faint construction hum, fading in and out.)So, how do we pull the American Dream back from the brink? We need homes under $150,000! You've heard the grim math from our teacher in Act 2. That five-times-income ratio is a trap. But it's a trap we can engineer our way out of. Itâs our Erie Canal moment, and the tool to dig it is competition.Picture this: builders racing to craft small, affordable homes. 600 to 1,000 square feet, sturdy and smart, not some cookie-cutter McMansion. The spark? A Small Business Innovation Research program, an SBIR for housing. SBIRs are Americaâs secret sauce, fueling breakthroughs in tech, defense, and agriculture with competitive grants for small businesses. Phase I: dream up designs, like modular units, shipping-container conversions, energy-efficient builds. Phase II: build prototypes that hit $150,000 or less. Phase III: scale the winners with private capital, flooding the market with homes for first-time buyers, not hedge-fund vultures. Really promising defense proposals go direct to Phase II to get started quicker.This isnât a pipe dream! Itâs already halfway here. The USDAâs SBIR program for rural development is a goldmine, funding innovations to lift rural America, including housing. USDAâs rural SBIR runs in recurring cycles. We need to earmark funds for starter-home prototypes. For cities, HUDâs got $20 million in innovation grants, with deadlines like July 2025 already pushing affordability. But we need Congress to greenlight a full HUD SBIR, turning empty lots, old warehouses, and dead-end parking slabs into homes for workers, not speculators.In short, SBIR is Phase I: design; Phase II: build; Phase III: scale, with prizes for those who hit price, speed, and energy targets. USDAâs rural SBIR has upcoming cycles we can earmark for starter-home prototypes; HUD has piloted innovation grants, but Congress should create a full HUD SBIR for cities.Hereâs the kicker: we tie the money to slashing red tape. No zoning reform, no funds. Cities and counties need consistent guidelines: by-right approvals for small homes, no lot-size nonsense above 2,500 square feet, no parking minimums near transit, fees capped at 3% of costs. Reward builders under 500 employees (better yet, under 100) who deliver fast. Under 120 days to occupancy, and cheap, with bonuses for sub-$125k homes. This isnât a handout; itâs a race. Just like the Erie Canal turned a bankrupt merchantâs sketch into a national artery, SBIR can turn small builders into the architects of a new American Dream.Weâve done the impossible before. We dug a 363-mile ditch by hand, no dynamite, no excuses. If we can build canals, railroads, and the internet, we can build homes for working families. Itâs time to drain the zoning swamp and let innovators lead the way.Act 4: Bureaucracy Reform â No Reform, No Funds!(Voice: Builder â Gruff, hands-on male, late 30s, with a tool-belt swagger and a fed-up edge, like a contractor whoâs battled city hall and won. Background: Construction site bustle. Hammer strikes, saw whirs, gravel crunch, fading in and out.)Iâm a builder. I donât wrestle swamps or blast limestone cliffs like those Erie Canal boys. My battlegroundâs worse: zoning codes, permit desks, and bureaucrats who think theyâre gatekeepers to my toolbox. Those rules cost more than stone, and theyâre crushing working families.Take âby-right approvals.â Fancy term, simple idea: if my plans for a 600-square-foot starter home follow the zoning rules, such as lot size, height, and setbacks, I get my permit, no questions asked. No six-month hearings, no neighbors stonewalling, no planning board playing king. Just a quick check by a city clerk to confirm Iâm legit, and Iâm breaking ground in 30 days. Projects that fit the code skip the red tape.Adam Smith nailed it in 1776: I donât build homes out of charity, like some saintly carpenter. I build to make a living. But right now, the systemâs rigged. Landâs pricier than gold, materials cost a fortune, and every permit hearingâs a shakedown. Build a 600-square-foot starter home? Iâd lose my shirt. McMansions? Thatâs where the profitâs at. So thatâs what gets built, while young folks like that teacher in Act 2 get priced out.Hereâs the fix: homes should cost twice the median income, like in the 1960s. Twelve thousand against fifty-six hundred. Today, with incomes at 84 grand, that means $150,000 homes. Not subsidies, not studies; actual affordability. And the only way there? Competition, unleashed by draining the zoning swamp.Enter the rule: No reform, no funds. Want federal SBIR cash to spark those starter homes? Cities and counties sign a Housing Reform MOU or get nothing. That means: By-right approvals. Capped fees. 30-day permits. Lot sizes under 2,500 sq ft. No parking minimums near transit. Five-foot setbacks. Pattern books. 120-day to occupancy.This ainât about gutting safety codes. Fire, seismic, egress stay tight. Fair housing rules stand. But the games? Done. Only reform zones get SBIR grants. Extra reforms, like lot splits or ADUs everywhere, earn a scoring boost, say 1.2x. Weâve seen it work: the âMontana Miracle,â where the state response limited local governmentsâ power to impose costly development restrictions, and Texasâ permit streamlining. Scale the concepts nationally, and we change the cost curve.Governmentâs job is to protect life, liberty, and property for working people. Today, that means clearing the path so regular folks can own a home, not just rent from some corporate landlord king. This is our Erie Canal. We need to cut through red tape, not rock. No reform, no funds. Letâs get to work.Counterarguments: Facing the Skepticsâ$150,000 homes are impossible.âNot everywhere. Land is cheap in many small cities and rural markets. Factory-built modules, like LEGO homes, are built off-site, cutting labor and waste; new methods can trim material costs. The target isnât San Francisco high-rises. Itâs starter homes where land and rules allow them. The goal is a repeatable $150k path, not a one-off miracle.âLocal governments wonât reform.âTie money to reform and priorities move. No reform, no funds. Cities sign a Housing Reform MOU: by-right approvals, capped fees, fast permits, or they sit out. Weâve already seen states streamline reviews and allow more small homes. Put the carrots where the gates are.âThis is a handout.âSBIR isnât charity; itâs a race. Phase I designs, Phase II prototypes, Phase III scales with private capital. Builders win by delivering price and speed, not by lobbying for special favors. Thatâs competition with a finish line that matters.âCheap homes will tank values and crowd neighborhoods.âSmall homes done well stabilize ownership and add options without chaos. Pattern books keep design coherent. ADUs and small lots add gentle density. More neighbors, not high-rises.âWe canât afford this.âWe canât afford not to. The canal was audacious for its day; it paid for itself in growth. A national SBIR pilot is modest compared to the programs we already run, and it targets the one lever that drops costs for everyone: supply at the starter tier.Every big American project sounded like madness. Until it didnât.We, the People â Our Canal, Our MomentWe, the People, carry a lot at once: wages trail the bills, healthcare scares the insured, debt nibbles every paycheck, childcare rivals tuition, heat and light outpace our raises.But housing affordability is our biggest opportunity. Businesses canât pay livable wages if the cost of living keeps outstripping revenue. Workers canât save for retirement or have babies if they canât afford a house to sleep in. More than anything, Americans need food on the table and heat in the house.If we are to open the door to opportunity, housing is the hinge. Fix the hinge, and the door swings freely.Think of that teacher in Act 2, grading by day, tutoring by night, rowing a tissue-paper boat while the Dream drifts away. Think of the builder in Act 4, fighting fiefdoms of permits, ready to put up the homes she can actually buy.Theyâre not asking for favors. Theyâre asking for a fair doorway. Our grandparents had it: a house only twice a familyâs income. Today, the ratio is more than double that. The doorway is slamming.This is our Erie Canal moment. In 1817, a bankrupt merchantâs prison essays sparked a 363-mile cut through forest, swamp, and stone, paying the nation back many times over. Now we cut through paper, not rock.The tool is competition: a Small Business Innovation Research program, or SBIR for housing, racing to deliver $150,000 starter homes. And the rule is simple: no reform, no funds. By-right approvals. Capped fees. Fast permits. Pattern books. Public trackers. Competition and conditions that support changing the market for working Americans. We dug a continent-shaping canal with shovels and black powder. We can clear a pathway to ownership with pens and political will.Housing is our canal. Open the gates. Build the doorway.May God bless the builders, the trades, and the teachers, and God bless the United States of America.Music from #Uppbeathttps://uppbeat.io/t/ceridwen-mccooey/the-peacockLicense code: PLAJBRCEHGUZQDVS Get full access to I Believe at joelkdouglas.substack.com/subscribe
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