By Kevin Blakeman

As Vermont enters another legislative session, lawmakers are once again proposing housing legislation they believe will protect tenants from eviction and homelessness. While the intent may be laudable, the reality on the ground is far messier — and the consequences are increasingly harmful not only to landlords, but also to responsible tenants and to Vermont’s already strained housing supply.

Let me start with a simple truth: landlords do not wake up looking for someone to evict. Not once in my decades of providing housing have I thought, “Who can I evict today?” In fact, it’s the opposite. Evictions are expensive, time-consuming, emotionally draining, and disruptive. The last thing any landlord wants is to lose a reasonably good tenant, renovate a damaged unit, and restart the application process.

Despite leases running 10–15 pages filled with legal language, the agreement really boils down to three things:

• Pay the rent reasonably on time.
• Take reasonable care of the property.
• Get along reasonably with others.

When those conditions are met, life is good — for everyone.

Much of the current tenant-protection legislation assumes landlords are the problem. It aims to prevent evictions at almost any cost. But coddling chronically irresponsible tenants doesn’t help them; it emboldens them. Much like failing to discipline a child, it encourages bad choices while punishing those who play by the rules — including good tenants who ultimately pay the price through higher rents.

Vermont’s housing shortage is undeniable. We hear constant stories of professionals turning down jobs because they can’t find housing. A recent commentary by Julie Moore and Kerrick Johnson cited a shortfall of roughly 40,000 homes in the coming years and pointed directly at permitting, regulation, and unrealistic expectations for aging housing stock. I don’t just agree — I’ve lived it.

I spent four and a half years navigating zoning, planning, and Environmental Court trying to replace two derelict mobile homes on a five-acre parcel with new housing. In the end, the only way a permit was issued was after I sold the land to a neighbor who preferred open views to new homes. One week after the sale, a permit was granted — for five houses — on land I no longer owned.

This is the system we expect landlords and developers to invest in. ?

On the tenant side, the stories are rarely as simple as headlines suggest. We’ve all seen the tear-jerker coverage: a longtime tenant, a handshake agreement, an owner who dies, heirs who want to sell, and suddenly “the evil landlord” becomes the villain. Tragic circumstances exist — illness, disability, financial hardship — and I have personally kept rents unchanged for over a decade for tenants who became friends. But those arrangements were acts of charity, not sustainable business models, and charity cannot be mandated by law without consequences.

Those consequences are real and recurring:

Tenants who go months without paying rent despite repeated accommodations

Units rendered uninhabitable through neglect that becomes a serious health hazard

Drug activity that brings police and ambulances to rental properties

State-placed tenants whose histories are not fully disclosed to property owners

Overzealous inspections that trigger tens of thousands of dollars in unnecessary costs — costs that ultimately get passed on to tenants

The average eviction costs me more than $10,000. In a state that already places landlords at a legal disadvantage, those losses translate directly into higher rents. Many of mine increased by about 20 percent this year — not out of greed, but necessity.

Ironically, these policies reduce housing availability. Many homeowners have perfectly good in-law apartments sitting empty because one bad experience was enough to convince them the risk is too high. Those units could help ease the housing shortage, but fear keeps them dark.

Landlords are becoming hardened not because they lack compassion, but because the system punishes it. When even law enforcement officers say they would not rent property in Vermont, policymakers should take notice.

There is virtually no advocacy for landlords in Montpelier. Calls go unanswered. Testimony goes unheard. Yet without landlords willing to invest, maintain, and rent property, there is no housing market to regulate.

This crisis will not be solved unless both sides are heard honestly. Holding tenants accountable for paying rent and caring for property is not cruelty — it is foundational. Fair enforcement of leases protects good tenants, encourages investment, and expands housing supply.

Kicker:

If lawmakers want more housing, fewer evictions, and stable rents, they must stop legislating as if every landlord is a villain and every eviction is abuse. You cannot regulate housing into existence — but you can regulate it out of reach.

Author is a landlord from Sharon.