By Stephanie Pincetl, Director, California Center for Sustainable Communities and Professor, Institute of the Environment and Sustainability

At the start of this year, Los Angeles County received a devastating reminder that the way we have built and organized our communities in the 20th century have left so many people and their homes dangerously vulnerable to wildfire. We will rebuild—that is a forgone conclusion. But we must take this moment to reimagine how we build and why. The climate of Southern California is changing, as are the economic and environmental realities of our region. It is time to unleash creative imagination about how we create a livable future for the 10 million people in LA county.

The region has just experienced the most devastating fire in recorded history, burning more than 12,000 homes and leaving many more thousands needing new places to live, many among them the least advantaged and without homeowner’s fire insurance. They are left destitute as for many their homes were their only asset. Many previous fires have occurred in these burnt areas, but none driven by such violent winds, and over such a built landscape. It is not that Los Angelenos are unfamiliar with this phenomenon. Malibu has burned, again and again, as have the San Gabriel Mountains, largely under National Forest jurisdiction. 

But nearly every fire, we should remember, was ignited by human activity, whether it be deliberate arson, carelessness, sparks from vehicles or machinery, or power system infrastructure. Natural ignitions like dry lightning strikes occur very rarely here. With the extent of building in highly flammable areas, frequent recurrence is inevitable. Just as climate and nature cannot be superseded by human infrastructure, neither can our own propensity to make mistakes.

Yet there is a rush to rebuild, and to rebuild in the same places, exactly the same types of homes along the same land use patterns. While these rebuilt homes will likely be more fire resistant and vegetation controls will be more aggressively enforced, infrastructure alone is not a solution.

People, understandably, want to be able to start the hard work of rebuilding their homes as soon as possible. Most of us can’t comprehend the trauma of having the life we’ve built over decades and, in some cases, across generations, so suddenly and violently torn away. It is no wonder that people are desperate for a return to some semblance of normalcy. 

Let’s be realistic about the timeline we are on for rebuilding safely. It will be some time before we can safely remove debris contaminated by toxins released by the fire. We can use this time to also effectively reimagine how we can rebuild more resiliently to prevent repeating a tragedy like this.

The land use patterns of the last century have been anything but ideal. In addition to leaving so many Angelenos vulnerable to wildfires, these patterns have been the underlying cause of our region’s troubles like traffic, affordability, lack of access to open space, high levels of air pollution, preventable deaths on the Pacific Coast Highway, erosion of wildlife habitat, and more. Why would we be rebuilding what has been familiarly dysfunctional? 

Widening roads to facilitate evacuation may require eminent domain, leading to giant strips of asphalt—made with oil, let’s not forget—running up and down the mountain, dramatically altering the character of the neighborhoods.

Beefing up fire protection with more water infrastructure will also intrude on property rights, impact neighborhoods for years, incur enormous costs, and entail gigantism in infrastructure. The water system in the Palisades was sized to provide domestic water and fight house fires, both of which were done effectively. But fighting a fire driven by 100 mile-per-hour winds over desiccated chaparral? No, and likely cannot be done. 

None of these options will come cheaply. The City and County cannot simply increase taxes, due to Propositions 28 and 218.

So we have to ask ourselves: What trade offs are we willing to make to foot the bill of rebuilding? Housing for the homeless driven out of affordable housing by property speculators? Libraries, other social services? The police department budget?

Rather than doubling down on patterns of the past that have proven to put people in harm’s way, perhaps we could take a breath. 

A humane and sustainable approach to rebuilding should include:

1. Housing or shelter for all those who need it,

2. Strong anti-rent gouging legal enforcement,

3. Rules to prevent private equity capital and speculative real estate from buying up properties,

4. Community meetings throughout Los Angeles over the next 18 months to discuss the future of Los Angeles, how and where to rebuild or build, and what alternatives might be possible. This would include clear, transparent discussion of city and county budgets, revenues, and limitations.

5. Assurances that rebuilding does not replicate the past patterns that have resulted in such a loss of property and life.

It is time to dream again. As has been pointed out, the Olmsted Brothers’ vision (1930) for open space in the county included the preservation of the Santa Monica Mountains for open space. It had been commissioned by the Chamber of Commerce, but then strongly opposed by the real estate interests and City elected officials as it would have curbed building into the region’s vast open spaces. As for the Altadena Fire, one that burned an established neighborhood dating from the early 20th century (the 1928-built house where I lived between 1980 and 1990 burned), the fire was likely started by a spark from a Southern California Edison powerline many miles away in the national forest. Those embers were carried by the wind to Eaton Canyon, an area that has become ever more danger prone as the fluctuations in climate drive higher heats and drier summers. Yet, in contrast to the Palisades fire, it had not experienced the same recurrence of fires over recent decades.

We should also remember that there were enormous battles in the 1970s to halt more sprawl in the Santa Monica Mountains. But the real estate industry, again, in alliance with the City Council as well as others like the planning department approved more development—revenue potential prevailed as well as construction jobs. This approach overlooked development potential in the developed urban cores, the potential for gentle densification—known in planning circles as  “missing middle” housing—mixed-use buildings throughout neighborhoods, and public transportation. It was also nearly impossible to do so with the extant zoning, forbidding any multiple family dwelling, of any sort, in single family zones, shoving density into already designated multi-unit zones, the legacies of red-lining.  

Americans, especially in the West, have been used to vast open spaces, the relatively new mobility offered by the personal car, and the inexpensive cost of real estate, building materials, water, and energy. 

While that era is over, our expectations have not caught up. As a result, we have not explored an alternative vision, one which makes sense for the West and Southern California specifically. That is, what types of urbanism are appropriate for the type of climate we live in?  Should we not, perhaps, take inspiration from the way in which cities were built in other hot Mediterranean climates? Or maybe even from our neighbor to the south, Mexico. These towns, traditionally, were more densely built, clustered and concentrated, with passive solar techniques.  More clustered dwellings would be easier to defend from fire, and occupy less land area to defend. 

It should be an opportunity to explore what this could look like today, respecting our magnificent landscapes, access to the Pacific Ocean, and built to beautifully house our people, in a way that is affordable for all and protectable? Like those places described above, might we imagine 21st century villages with defensible perimeters, access to nature, and low-scale density—3 stories, interspersed with neighborhood commercial and some single family residences?

We have an opportunity to build climate appropriate housing that relies on passive techniques, provides good shade for urban heat and preserves our exceptional landscapes too. It is a propitious time to come into the present, to understand the world has changed. It is 2025. We are in a tax restricted state, we are in an era of limits. Let’s rebuild for community, for climate adaptation, for resilience, beauty, and to create a generous city.