For the past five years, I’ve been diving deep into a troubling reality: the more Utah invests in homeless services, the more homelessness seems to grow. It’s a simple observation with a complicated explanation—and it mirrors what we see unfolding in major cities across the West, from Los Angeles to Seattle, and now here in Salt Lake City.

I’m Richard Markosian, editor and publisher of Utah Stories. Our publication frequently investigates Utah’s growing homeless crisis and how taxpayer money is being spent—or squandered—on programs that often make the problem worse.

The Paradox of More Funding, More Homelessness

You, as a taxpayer, are personally funding Utah’s share of the “homeless industrial complex”—the vast web of nonprofits, government agencies, and developers enriched by taxpayer dollars under the banner of solving homelessness. But why, after millions in investment, are things getting worse?

One key reason is that our system isn’t structured to solve homelessness; it’s structured to sustain it. Utah’s homeless services have increasingly copied the models of California’s major cities: a sprawling network of service providers, agencies, and nonprofits that are better at securing funding than actually reducing homelessness.

Even though there are well-intentioned leaders within the system, many critical players—from politicians to service providers—are reluctant to engage with hard questions about outcomes and accountability. Notably, Utah’s Homeless Coordinator—one of the highest-paid government officials responsible for tackling homelessness—has repeatedly refused to answer our questions or come on our program. Meanwhile, homelessness continues to rise under his tenure.

Policy Failures and Broken Promises

The experts we have interviewed—like Salt Lake County District Attorney Sim Gill, former HUD official Paul Webster, and State Housing Czar Steve Waldrip—all agree: the policies in place are failing. The more permissive the services, the more enabling the system becomes.

For example, The Road Home—an organization now managing approximately 20 properties including homeless shelters and permanent supportive housing units—has come under scrutiny. According to multiple inside sources, facilities like Magnolia Place Apartments are rife with drug trafficking and human trafficking, despite millions in state and federal funding. Our reporting over two years has confirmed these disturbing realities, but corporate media in Utah has shown little interest in investigating.

Even when land originally designated for homeless housing—such as the Ramada Inn on North Temple and Redwood Road—was quietly sold to the Larry H. Miller Development Group, hardly anyone in the mainstream press asked why.

The silence is deafening, and the consequences are tragic.

Recent Legislative Efforts: Progress or More Bureaucracy?

During the last Utah legislative session, two bills were passed that directly impact the homeless system. House Bill 329 (HB329), sponsored by Tyler Clancy and Solutions Utah, attempted to introduce greater accountability for service providers. Governor Spencer Cox had previously called for not only holding the homeless individuals accountable for engaging with services but also holding service providers accountable for tangible results.

Among other provisions, HB329:

• Created the Shelter Counties Advisory Board to make recommendations to the Utah Homeless Services Board.
• Established new safety requirements for homeless shelters, with penalties for facilities that tolerate drug use or unsanitary conditions.
• Allowed funding to be used for transportation to reconnect individuals with family support systems outside the state.
• Created a pilot program intended to integrate mental health services more closely with homeless facilities.

These are positive steps, but there’s a catch: HB329 also creates another board, adding more bureaucracy without necessarily adding effectiveness. And while safety requirements are crucial, true transformation will not happen until there is a fundamental shift in the system’s structure and incentives.

Another bill, House Bill 465 (HB465), addressed issues related to homeless encampments, ultimately contributing to the resignation of Salt Lake City Police Chief Mike Brown. This, too, points to a system overwhelmed by problems that policy tweaks alone won’t fix.

The Importance of Lived Experience

One glaring omission in all these efforts is the lack of representation from people who have lived experience with homelessness and addiction. The advisory boards, panels, and committees remain populated by academics, bureaucrats, and administrators—well-meaning perhaps, but often disconnected from the real struggles of street life.

Why is lived experience so important? Because those who have hit rock bottom—and climbed out—understand both the desperation of addiction and the path to recovery. They know that merely providing services is not enough; services must be paired with structure, accountability, and real support systems.

Jackie Tress, a former addict and homeless woman we interviewed, exemplifies this. Strung out for years on heroin and methamphetamine, she experienced the worst that street life has to offer. Thanks to intensive treatment and structured programs, she turned her life around and now works helping others at the Other Side Village.

Jackie’s insight is invaluable: she knows that transitional programs often fail because they give too much freedom too soon. Early recovery requires structure, isolation from old triggers, and gradual reintroduction into society. Yet many service providers ignore this reality, creating a revolving door where addicts relapse again and again.

Programs like the Other Side Academy—run by people with lived experience—boast an 85% success rate, dramatically higher than the 17% success rates common among traditional rehabilitation programs. Why? Because they pair compassion with tough love and accountability. They don’t just hand out services; they rebuild lives.

A Better Way Forward

If Utah truly wants to solve homelessness, we need to restructure our approach from the ground up:

• Prioritize Lived Experience: Fill advisory boards with people like Jackie Tress—those who have navigated the road to recovery and know firsthand what works.
• Demand Accountability: Service providers must be judged not by how many people they serve, but by how many lives they transform.
• Reallocate Funding: Instead of pouring millions into ineffective programs, invest heavily in models that are already proving successful.
• Encourage Transparency: The public deserves to know how taxpayer dollars are being used and who is benefitting from homeless initiatives.

Solutions exist. But right now, the best programs are overshadowed and underfunded, while the homeless industrial complex continues to grow fat off taxpayer dollars.

The Real Solutions Are Already Here

Five years ago, I set out to find solutions to Utah’s homeless crisis. I quickly realized the solutions were already out there—they’re just being ignored in favor of expensive, failed models.

We don’t need more money in the same broken system. We need a radical rethinking of our priorities, starting with listening to those who’ve lived it, survived it, and are ready to lead us out of it.

If you care about Utah’s future—and the dignity of every human being living here—stay engaged. Demand better. And support local journalism committed to uncovering the truth, no matter how uncomfortable it might be.

At Utah Stories, we’ll continue to ask the tough questions—and we hope you’ll continue to join us.