Homelessness and Recent Executive Orders: A Complex Issue

Two years ago, in the Kensington area of Philadelphia, I witnessed a tense interaction as an EMT arrived to the scene. The medic stepped out, visibly frustrated, and confronted the gathered crowd. I stood beside my photographer, noticing a man nearby who was shirtless and appeared to be in distress. I didn’t speak; instead, I felt the EMT’s glare—almost as if he was asking for help amidst the chaos.

There wasn’t much I could say.

Changes to Homelessness Policies Under Trump

Last week, President Trump responded to ongoing concerns about homelessness, proposing a revival of executive orders aimed at addressing this complex issue. Some people believe this could restore the authority to manage individuals struggling with severe mental health issues, even if they don’t consent to it.

Libertarians raise alarms about this approach, noting historical abuses of due process when large numbers of people were forcibly committed to mental health facilities. It brings back painful memories of the past, where some individuals were institutionalized for dubious reasons.

But as we assess Trump’s proposals, it’s crucial to acknowledge the stark reality of homelessness everywhere in the country—it’s alarming. I’ve visited various encampments across the U.S., from Manhattan to the Tenderloin in San Francisco, and the scenes are often overwhelming, sometimes literally unbearable.

Business Owners’ Initiatives in Santa Monica

The individuals in these camps face grave challenges, with visible signs of addiction and despair. It’s disheartening to see so many people suffering without help. Despite decades of financial investment from Democrats aimed at ameliorating this crisis—California’s Governor Gavin Newsom has spent approximately $20 billion on initiatives that haven’t solved the issue—there seems to be an acknowledgment that things need to change.

What the Trump administration recognizes is that there are two distinct, yet intertwined, facets to this problem. The first is economic; the second revolves around mental health and addiction issues.

Addressing economic homelessness is feasible. For instance, an evicted mother with children can often be aided with temporary housing and job support. It’s not just a matter of financial support; sometimes, people just need a little help to get back on their feet.

However, homelessness tied to mental illness and addiction is trickier. Unfortunately, relocating people from camps to facilities doesn’t inherently solve their issues—addiction often persists, regardless of location.

As I walked through these difficult environments, I found myself questioning the real effectiveness of our current approaches. If facilities lack proper structure and support, what difference does it make? Those locations can feel like harsh confines, even when individuals might prefer them over the streets.

Critics argue against civil commitments based on concerns over personal freedom. But what does freedom mean if it results in someone succumbing to addiction or dying alone on the street? Wouldn’t it be preferable to ensure they receive help and protection instead?

Some will point to past abuses in mental health commitments, recalling instances from the 1950s where marginalized groups faced discrimination. Yet, we live in a different era, and our efforts today should not be hindered by outdated views; the goal is to save lives in our present context.

Yes, mistakes will happen—in any system designed to help people, there will be challenges. But the urgency is clear; we cannot remain passive while lives are lost.

Even that day in Kensington, as tensions mounted, the EMT was ultimately able to revive the man at my feet with Narcan. But instead of gratitude, he expressed anger at being withdrawn from the high he had sought. It was a stark reminder of the duality at play.

In the end, there are really only two choices. We can try to intervene in what could be viewed as an outdoor prison—against a person’s will if necessary—in the hopes of saving their life. Or we can choose negligence.

If local governments heed President Trump’s recommendations, significant change could occur, potentially saving lives across the nation.