The Brief

A $5 billion pot of federal money set aside to help people on the verge of homelessness pay the rent is running out of cash — and no one has a plan to keep the roughly 60,000 renters, more than 15,000 of them in California — from losing their housing after the last dollar is spent.

News of the imminent expiration of the Emergency Housing Voucher program came in a March 6 letter the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development sent to local public housing authorities, the agencies that administer federal rental housing assistance programs.

A final payment this spring may allow some agencies to keep their emergency programs running into 2026, the letter reads. But housing authorities were advised to move forward with “the expectation that no additional funding from HUD will be forthcoming.”

For the housing authority staff who received the letter, it remains unclear whether the program is winding down simply because it has run out of funds on its own accord or whether it represents a policy shift from the Trump administration, which has been on an aggressive and often uncoordinated cost cutting tear across the federal bureaucracy.

The letter came as a shock to Lisa Jones, CEO of the San Diego Housing Commission. Jones said the commission could conceivably pay its share of the rent for the nearly 400 San Diego renters currently assisted by the program through December. After that, she could think of no obvious way to make up for the missing federal dollars.

Jones spoke to CalMatters from Washington D.C., where the heads of housing authorities across the country had gathered for a conference and to lobby their representatives. As news of the end of the program has spread among her counterparts, “a quiet panic” has set in, she said.

Absent federal money, “we don’t have the funding to solve that problem,” she said.

The program was modeled after the much larger and well-known Housing Choice Voucher program. Also known as “Section 8,” that long-standing program pays at least 70% of the rent for anyone earning under a certain income and lucky enough to secure one of its scarce vouchers. The Emergency Housing Voucher program is more narrowly targeted at those in most dire need: people currently living on the street or in shelters, those just on the verge of homelessness and anyone fleeing domestic violence or human trafficking.

“It’s a group of people who, but for the voucher, would be at extreme risk of falling back into homelessness,” said Mari Castaldi, who focuses on state housing policy for the Center for Budget and Policy Priorities, a progressive think tank.

The termination of the emergency programs comes at an inauspicious time for federal rental assistance programs across the country.

For decades, the federal government has offered Housing Choice Vouchers to fewer than 1-in-4 Americans who qualify for those benefits. In California’s large metro areas, voucher waiting lists — the time between when someone applies and actually receives one — regularly tops out at more than a decade.

That means few housing authorities will have many extra housing vouchers to offer anyone booted from the emergency program. Absent another solution, that would put housing authorities in the virtually unprecedented position of having to revoke assistance from people who are currently depending upon it to pay the rent.

“There’s just no plan in place to determine what would happen” in that case, said Alex Visotzky with the National Alliance to End Homelessness. “This could very well lead to thousands of additional people becoming homeless in California.”

Why the funds ran out

The emergency program was never meant to be permanent. Creating one of many COVID-19-era additions to the nation’s social safety net, Congress funded the emergency vouchers in 2021 with a lump sum of $5 billion. Once those funds were spent, the program was meant to come to an end.

The wind-down was supposed to be gradual.

After the program’s roll out, housing authorities were told to stop reissuing the emergency vouchers as renters exited the program — because they no longer needed the help, moved to a different city or died. That way, the program was meant to phase itself out of existence. The federal housing department was given until 2030 to spend all $5 billion.

That led many local officials and housing advocates to assume the program would be funded through the end of the decade.

The wind-down of the emergency program is just the latest shudder in an unprecedented upheaval in federal housing policy enacted by President Donald Trump. The administration is considering mass layoffs at the federal housing department, raising concerns among some housing policy experts about whether they can seamlessly operate federal programs, including Section 8. After temporary freezes on all categories of federal funding in late January, the administration, led by DOGE, its “Department of Government Efficiency,” has more quietly extinguished select federal housing programs. Earlier this month the City of Los Angeles stopped accepting new applications for its general Housing Choice Voucher program, citing uncertain support from Washington.

The federal housing department did not respond to repeated emails and voice messages requesting an interview about why the funds ran out sooner than many expected, and whether the news in the March 6 letter represented a change in federal policy.

“To me it just doesn’t sound right, that we’re so far off the mark — four years off the mark,” said Emilio Salas, executive director of the Los Angeles County Development Authority, which oversees federal housing voucher programs for 66 cities and all unincorporated communities across the L.A. basin.

Sonya Acosta, a policy analyst with the Center for Budget and Policy Priorities, said she hasn’t seen any evidence that the end of the Emergency Housing Voucher program is the handiwork of DOGE. Instead, she pointed to a familiar problem as the more likely culprit: sky-high rents.

Since Congress authorized the new vouchers in early 2021, rents across the country experienced a post-pandemic boom. That’s even true at the bottom half of the rental market, which the federal housing department uses to set its rental support levels. Between 2021 and 2025, for example, “fair market rents” in San Diego’s Barrio Logan neighborhood increased by 43%, nearly double the overall rate of inflation during the same period, according to the department.

Because the housing voucher programs pay the difference between a tenant’s income and rent, soaring rents and stagnant incomes mean the government pays more.

“We’ve seen those really big increases in rent that has also meant that some of the spending might have gone a little bit faster than initial HUD estimates,” said Acosta.

That basic math problem has put the screws to the overall Section 8 program too. Jones, in San Diego, said the Housing Commission’s average per-household rental assistance payment at the beginning of the pandemic was around $870 each month. Now it’s roughly $1,400. Because the emergency voucher program allows for more generous payments and because its voucher holders tend to have even lower incomes than regular voucher holders, the average emergency voucher is about $2,200, she said.

“The gap between the rental market and the lowest incomes in our community is widening,” she said.

What happens when the money runs out

Without fresh funding, there’s no way many housing authorities would be able to transfer emergency voucher holders onto the regular voucher program.

In Santa Barbara County, for example, nearly 1-in-10 of the local housing authority’s vouchers have been shelved, kept out of the hands of qualified renters because the authority can’t afford to provide the assistance.

So once the emergency funding runs out “we have no way of helping those people right now,” said housing authority director Bob Havlicek. “Even if we did have extra vouchers available, then its public policy issue of ‘why are you helping these folks if you have people on your waitlist?’ We can’t win either way.”

There isn’t much optimism from advocates that the state will step up once the emergency funds run dry.

Bond funds that the state has used to prop up much of its affordable housing spending are running low, Gov. Gavin Newsom’s proposed budget for the coming fiscal year includes little extra and rental subsidies, a costly and ongoing expense, have historically been a federal responsibility anyway.

That leaves the federal government, which does not appear to be in a big spending mood when it comes to social programs.

On Monday, Trump signed a budget bill to continue funding the federal government at levels set last year. That may provide a steady funding source for the overall federal housing voucher program, though the bill may give his administration flexibility to redirect some of those funds if it chooses to. It does nothing to address the fate of the Emergency Housing Voucher program.

“We should figure out a way to save this program and make sure these people continue to receive federal rental assistance,” said Tushar Gurjal, a policy analyst at the National Association of Housing and Redevelopment Officials, which lobbies Congress on behalf of affordable housing providers. “None of these folks did anything wrong. They’re just using their vouchers and following all the rules.”

California’s Board of Equalization is a coveted spot once again for state lawmakers looking for a new gig almost a decade after then-Gov. Jerry Brown signed a law gutting the organization of any serious governing responsibility.

This year, three current state lawmakers are competing for seats on the nation’s only elected tax board. They’re among some two dozen candidates on the ballot for its four elected positions, which are divided by geographic districts.

The board has long been a launching pad to higher offices in California politics — Fiona Ma served on it before becoming state treasurer, as did Betty Yee and Malia Cohen before each being elected state controller.

The agency itself is a throwback to the 19th Century. It’s rooted in an 1879 constitutional amendment that created it and charged it with “equalizing” county property tax assessments statewide.

From that narrow mandate, it swelled to become a juggernaut that collected a third of the state’s tax revenue and provided a venue for people and businesses to contest their tax bills in front of the elected board. It survived numerous efforts by governors to kill it outright, including attempts by Pete Wilson and Arnold Schwarzenegger.

That is until 2017, when a cascade of allegations about board members misusing the office to promote themselves led to an authoritative state audit that lawmakers could not ignore.

Brown signed a law stripping the agency of any powers beyond what voters gave it in 1879 and created two new departments that report to the governor instead of the elected board: one to collect sales and use taxes and another to hear taxpayer appeals.

After that, Board of Equalization elections tended to be lower profile contests. Ted Gaines, a former Republican state lawmaker from the Sacramento area, won a seat. Former Democratic Assemblymember Sally Lieber is up for reelection on the board this year. The other members had experience in local politics instead of inside the Capitol.

“We’re lean but we’re not mean,” said Lieber, the incumbent for District 2, which includes 19 counties centered on the Bay Area. “I think the Board of Equalization is the right size in the system right now…I do really believe that the board has a role to play in being a forum for taxpayers to come forward to.”

This year voters will see more contentious elections for the tax board:

• In District 1 representing inland California, Republican state Sen. Shannon Grove of Bakersfield has more than $900,000 in a campaign account and name recognition from her representing the San Joaquin Valley in the Legislature since 2010. Democrats are putting up a fight for the district. Fresno City Councilmember Nelson Esparza is running with the party’s support.
• In District 2 representing coastal California north of Los Angeles, incumbent Lieber faces San Mateo Community College District Trustee John Pimentel. Lieber has the Democratic Party’s endorsement, but a number of Bay Area Democratic leaders are backing Pimentel, including state Treasurer Ma and San Jose Mayor Matt Mahan.
• In District 3 representing the Los Angeles area, former Monterey Park City Councilmember Yvonne Yiu put up $760,000 of her own money and has about $1 million on hand. The race has another heavyweight in Assemblymember Mike Gipson, a Democrat from Gardena who has served in the Legislature since 2014. 
• District 4 representing the San Diego area has an especially crowded race with Democratic state Sen. Tom Umberg of Santa Ana, San Ysidro school board member Martín Arias, San Diego Unified School District board member Cody Peterson, and Denis Bilodeau, a Republican supported by San Diego Assemblymember Carl DeMaio’s Reform California organization.

A forum for California taxpayers

The board was always popular among taxpayer advocacy groups, who liked that it provided a forum to focus on tax issues in a capital where debates often center on labor and business.

“It’s a very useful elected body that answers to the voters,” said Susan Shelley, vice president of communications for the Howard Jarvis Taxpayers Association.

Some of this year’s candidates are thinking of ways to make the most of the agency.

Arias believes the board could do more to assist homeowners and potential homeowners. As a taxpayer advocate in the San Diego County Assessor’s Office, he says he works with the Board of Equalization every day and has a front seat to how the system works.

“I think there’s a bigger opportunity here to make the Board of Equalization the constitutional office that it is — that it should be,” he said. “There’s a clear opportunity here for us to start advocating at the state level for all of our taxpayers, including those that don’t speak English.”

Umberg said he’d like the board to have more investigative power and resources. Citing instances in which San Bernardino and Los Angeles assessors have been arrested on felony charges, he said he’s most interested in the board’s oversight of property tax assessors.

“Although it’s not a high-profile job, it’s a critically important job, especially when we’ve got so many revenue challenges in California,” Umberg said in an interview with CalMatters.

Questioning BOE’s relevance

Advocating for the board’s expansion has drawn criticism from former board members and employees. Yee, a board member from 2004 to 2014, has been vocal about abolishing the board entirely because she believes that its limited responsibilities could be easily transferred to another department or agency.

“I just really do question how this board continues to have relevance,” she told CalMatters. “I sometimes feel like the board is really doing a lot of work in search of finding problems to solve. …I know with each of the board members, they feel very strongly about being a taxpayer advocate. But frankly, every public official should be a taxpayer advocate. ”

Democrats stopped short of killing the agency entirely because they would have had to put that question to voters.

“They should have just chopped the head of the snake off and done away with the Board of Equalization altogether,” said Mark DeSio, a former communications director for the board. “They didn’t do that. They left enough of the cancer to grow back.”

He cooperated with the audit that revealed misspending at the agency that appeared intended to promote its elected members as well as another that showed widespread nepotism in its hiring practices. He then lost his job in the reorganization and filed a whistleblower retaliation lawsuit against the state.

DeSio believes lawmakers want seats on the Board of Equalization because it allows them to maintain a high profile until they can run for office again.

“That was the recipe for disaster a few years back,” he said. “Somebody better watch these guys. They’re not there for the policy. It’s for the exposure.”

Cayla Mihalovich is a California Local News fellow.

This article was originally published on CalMatters and was republished under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives license.

Even as gas prices continued to rise across the United States, sales of electric vehicles fell in April. That is in contrast to strong growth elsewhere in the world, such as Europe. But American drivers are gravitating toward at least one more efficient powertrain: hybrids.

Sales of new EVs fell roughly 18 percent from March to April, according to the latest data from Edmunds, an auto research firm. Another company, Cox Automotive, pegged the drop at closer to 6 percent. Either way, experts said it’s clear that high gas prices aren’t leading to a significant shift toward EVs.

“There was a lot of window shopping,” said Ivan Drury, director of insights at Edmunds, noting that searches for electrified vehicles on the company’s site were strong. “It did not translate to tire-kicking and purchases.”

Price remains the steepest barrier for most people, said Drury. While electric vehicles can be less expensive to operate over the long-term — especially when gas prices are high — the upfront costs remain significant. The average transaction price for an EV in April was $6,214 higher than for vehicles with internal combustion engines, Cox reported.

“It’s still a cost hurdle,” said Stephanie Brinley, a principal automotive analyst at S&P Global Mobility. “You don’t know how long it’s going to take to get that back.”

At Thursday’s average gas price of $4.56 per gallon, an EV buyer would have to drive more than 40,000 miles to make up the difference with a car that gets 30 mpg. Savings on maintenance, like oil changes, could accelerate that timeline, but factors such as higher insurance prices and having to install a home charger could make the payback period even longer. If fuel prices fall, the advantage of an EV also shrinks.

“It’s very difficult for people to wrap their head around, ‘Hey, if I spend this $55,000, I might over time save’,” said Drury. “It requires a bit more math than most people want to go through.”

The calculus is much simpler for hybrid vehicles, which utilize batteries that can improve fuel economy by 25 to 45 percent without needing to plug in. A Honda CR-V, for example, gets around 29 mpg while the hybrid version gets 37. More and more popular models are only available as hybrids, a strategy that Toyota has perhaps embraced most notably. Last year, it ditched the gas-only version of the Camry sedan. The 2026 RAV4 followed suit.

Overall, Edmunds data shows that sales of hybrids are up 20 percent year-over-year and nearly 50 percent since February, when the U.S.-Iran conflict began. Sales of gas-powered gas are up about 11 percent over those same two months.

“I think this is going to be a hybrid moment,” said Stephanie Valdez Streaty, director of industry insights at Cox Automotive. “There are a lot of options.”

Used EVs provided another somewhat bright spot, she said. The segment saw a 3 percent increase in sales from March to April and a price premium of only $1,096 over used internal combustion vehicles. Used EVs also sold faster than their used gas-powered counterparts. “They’re really selling efficiently,” said Valdez Streaty, who added that there should be a glut of EVs available throughout the year as leases end. “I don’t think the inventory will be an issue.”

With Iran maintaining its hold over the Strait of Hormuz and summer travel season looming, gas prices appear set to keep climbing — which would only make an EV more appealing. Other parts of the world have seen significant jumps in sales since the conflict began, with Europe experiencing a surge and China setting an export record in April, according to BloombergNEF.

In the United States, though, it seems that only people already in the market for EVs are making the leap. “Edge-case people,” as Brinley called them. Dramatic pump readings “might nudge them because they were already in that direction,” she said. “But what we’re unlikely to see is a shift in current [internal combustion car] owners just fundamentally making that change simply because of gas prices.”

This article originally appeared in Grist at https://grist.org/solutions/why-hybrids-not-evs-are-winning-over-u-s-consumers/.

Grist is a nonprofit, independent media organization dedicated to telling stories of climate solutions and a just future. Learn more at Grist.org

James L. Jones Jr., 69, a self-described “community pastor” and a tireless advocate for Black communities in Los Angeles, was an enthusiastic supporter of Karen Bass’ mayoral bid in 2022, when she made history as the first woman, and first Black woman, to be elected L.A. mayor.

As Bass seeks reelection, Jones is supporting her again. Despite the political turmoil and criticism she has faced during her first term, Jones, known as Reverend JJ, believes she has a plan for Black progress that may not be evident, but is long range and strategic.

“I believe that in my heart of hearts, Karen’s not one of those people who follows polls,” said Jones. “In the end she’ll do what’s right for the people.”

When Angelenos elected Bass four years ago, she seemed like the right person to bridge the ideals of the post-George Floyd era and whatever moment was coming next. She was a seasoned politician — a former state legislator, congresswoman and native Angeleno with a history of grassroots organizing and coalition building in a city that was leaning more progressive.

But in 2022, there was trouble on the horizon. The nation’s Floyd-inspired reexamination of racial equity was losing ground to a growing MAGA backlash that had helped kill a major federal bill to reform policing, among other initiatives. Big blue cities like Los Angeles that had seen big protests for racial justice were being cast as chaotic and ungovernable.

Four years later, the ideals that propelled Bass’ election have taken a beating. Trump’s return to the White House has elevated long-simmering anti-“wokeness” and white resentment into federal policy. And the administration has focused special ire on California and Los Angeles, where Bass is in charge of the nation’s largest city currently led by a Black mayor.

Bass is taking a beating too. As she seeks reelection in the June 2 primary, the mayor is weathering criticism from many sides that she’s done too little about everything, from the homelessness and housing crisis that she made a signature issue to her response to the epic January 2025 wildfire that destroyed thousands of homes in Pacific Palisades, one of the city’s wealthiest neighborhoods.

Despite facing more voter uncertainty this time around, Bass is leading in the polls, with 30% support among likely voters, according to the latest survey by Emerson College Polling/Inside California Politics. While Bass’ support has jumped 10 points since March, she would have to get more than 50% of the vote to avoid a runoff with the other top vote-getter in November.

Her most formidable challengers in the crowded primary are Councilwoman Nithya Raman, a Democratic socialist to Bass’ left who is campaigning on housing affordability and a host of other progressive causes, and Spencer Pratt, a former reality show star with no political experience who skews conservative and touts cleaning up crime and homelessness. A former Bass ally, Raman pledges to do better than the mayor on reducing homelessness and increasing new housing production; Pratt decries corrupt leadership and talks chiefly about making L.A. great again, a la MAGA. Pratt and Raman are polling at 22% and 19%, respectively.

Missing from all the criticism of how Bass has fallen short is how or whether her election has benefited L.A.’s Black community. It’s a population that is rapidly continuing to dwindle — to roughly 8% today from a peak of 18% in 1970 — besieged by gentrification, stratospheric housing costs, underemployment and shrinking political representation, all of it aggravated by the racial hostility emanating from Washington. That norm-shattering phenomenon has tended to eclipse discussion of racial crises happening locally, with good reason. But politics are still local, and many Angelenos who supported Bass in 2022 hoped that electing the second Black mayor in the city’s history would help move the needle on longstanding Black problems dating back to 1992 that have reached yet another inflection point.

But public assessments of Bass by Black leaders the last four years, including this election cycle, have been muted to nonexistent. The exception is Black Lives Matter Grassroots L.A., which has routinely taken her to task for increasing police funding instead of allocating more resources to social and other services — a core part of the post-George Floyd reforms. Observers say the reticence among Black leaders is partly due to the fact that Bass has been so inundated with crises, some not of her making — especially the Palisades fire. The view that Bass committed a fatal mistake by being on a diplomatic trip to Ghana when the fires broke out has more or less defined her politically since.

That’s unfair, said Michael Guynn, a veteran social worker and community activist who lives near Florence and Normandie avenues, a famous site of the 1992 racial unrest.

“I don’t give a damn if she was out of the country — she got back when she could,” Guynn said. “They blamed her for what the fire department was responsible for.”

Then there’s the racism that dogs Black elected officials, women in particular. Pratt, who lost his home in the Palisades fire last year, has invoked Donald Trump-like rhetoric to belittle L.A.’s first Black woman mayor. That includes an official campaign poster that depicts Bass stuffed in a trash can and says “throw out Karen Basura,” the Spanish word for trash, echoing Trump’s disparaging of Somali immigrants — a demographic that includes Minnesota Congresswoman Ilhan Omar — as “garbage.”

But the takedown isn’t only coming from the MAGA right, said Genethia Hudley-Hayes, former president of L.A.’s civilian Fire Commission and a Bass appointee who stepped down in March.

“There’s always the bigotry of, ‘We rallied around this Black woman and she hasn’t performed,’” said Hudley-Hayes. “She’s not a superwoman. That’s part of the ‘I’m mad’ vote in L.A.”

Another hurdle for Bass, Guynn said, is the unrealistic expectation that she would dramatically reduce or even eliminate homelessness.

“She couldn’t get a fair break because of that,” he said, adding that “everybody hates homelessness and wants it to go away, but nobody wants to do the work.”

Homelessness certainly qualifies as a Black concern: 32% of unhoused people in the city are African American, according to the city’s latest count. Bass’ signature program Inside Safe, which seeks to get people off the street and into temporary housing, has made inroads. But the mayor’s efforts have been hampered by what City Hall observers say is a larger problem of messaging, management and oversight. The scandal involving a subcontractor accused of defrauding the city’s homeless services authority of $23 million is a painful reminder of that.

Hudley-Hayes says that it points to the need for the mayor of L.A. to be a skilled executive, a skill that Bass doesn’t have, at least not yet.

“You need collaboration, which is different from coalition building, different from the activism of Community Coalition,” she said, referring to the grassroots South L.A. organization co-founded by Bass.

Deep understanding of the roles of not just the 41 city departments but of bigger entities like the county is essential not just for running the city but for effecting racial justice as well.

“Homelessness is important, but you have to ask, what are the structures that create homelessness? It’s not just a city problem but a regional problem,” said Hudley-Hayes. “Inside Safe is a program, not a strategy.”

But being a better executive wouldn’t automatically guarantee improvements for Black people. Tom Bradley, who was mayor from 1973 to 1993, is venerated both as a coalition builder and astute manager who improved many parts of the city. But he didn’t do enough for L.A.’s Black populace. While the Black middle class flourished during the Bradley years, in part because Black municipal employment flourished, the larger working class and poor in South L.A. did not.

Hudley-Hayes argues the mayor’s lack of accountability to L.A.’s Black population as a whole is longstanding, and not unique to elected officials like Bradley or Bass. Local branches of civil rights groups like the NAACP and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference — which Hudley-Hayes once led — also play a part in accountability, though they have declined notably over the years. But Hudley-Hayes notes that accountability works two ways.

“Black people have individual agency, but we have to exercise it together,” she said. “We have to pool our experience. It means nothing if we don’t demand what we want.”

Even — especially — in these trying times, and in a city with as much possibility as L.A., problems notwithstanding — those demands should still matter.

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