Effective, sustainable policy requires explicit goals, clear communication, and a healthy dose of nuance

In recent years, as homelessness has skyrocketed across the United States, so has disagreement over the most effective response. Some have called for the expansion of Housing First programs, which provide homes without conditions of sobriety or treatment. Others argue that existing Housing First efforts have failed. Both perspectives could be right in some ways, but that depends on the motive for solving homelessness as well as the goal(s) to be accomplished.

Housing First is a well-studied and effective tool to help individuals maintain stable housing. Its outcomes for substance use and other health and mental health issues are roughly on par with treatment-first approaches (and perhaps even better when paired with on-site resources). But Housing First is not the best solution for people in need of short-term, emergency or transitional housing, and it will not reduce new homelessness since it does not address the complex factors that cause people to lose their homes in the first place—from medical debt and interpersonal violence to lack of affordable housing. Thus, while Housing First is not a silver bullet for reducing homelessness in the United States, it is part of an effective and comprehensive response that addresses the many factors driving homelessness today.

Often crafted in response to complex problems, policy seeks to address the priorities and perspectives of a wide range of diverse invested parties across the United States, from citizens to special interest groups to decision-makers at every level of government. Consequently, policy goals are often difficult to define, let alone measure or communicate. Furthermore, poorly articulated goals and failure to consider tradeoffs risk backlash by hindering the ability of citizens and lawmakers to implement and assess government actions.

In this Real Solutions piece, we dive into two cases in which well-intended policies lost support from certain parties not because they failed, but because their goals were unclear.

Oregon Measure 110: Decriminalizing drugs and expanding treatment

In 2020, Oregon residents authorized Measure 110 to decriminalize possession of small amounts of drugs. Under this new policy (which took effect in 2021), instead of being arrested for drug possession, people were given a choice between a $100 maximum ticket or a “needs assessment” and connection to social services, including substance use disorder treatment.

Key champions of Measure 110 said its primary goal was to force “a shift in attitude toward people who use drugs and how we treat them.”

Things began to change in Oregon almost immediately, with a number of clear successes. Most noteworthy was the dramatic decline in average monthly arrests for possession, down 83 percent from pre-pandemic numbers and 67 percent from COVID-era counts. Additionally, thanks to timely development of the Oversight and Accountability Council, 78 grants to community and tribal organizations were approved to fund the expansion of treatment, recovery, harm reduction, peer support, and housing services.  

Although the initial $31 million allocated for Measure 110 programs served more than 16,000 individuals, the measure also faced some challenges that may have been its undoing. In particular, despite the early funding successes already mentioned, the majority of grants were delayed, and many organizations were slow to roll out services. This, in turn, hindered the effectiveness of the program’s ticketing and needs assessment components.

Critics of the law claimed that Oregon saw an increase in a number of issues they attribute to drug decriminalization. For example, citizens and lawmakers alike argued that the numbers of homeless encampments and drug overdose fatalities began climbing around the same time the policy was enacted, although research suggests that decriminalization is not to blame for either. Homelessness was on the rise for years before Measure 110 took effect (although when combined with drug decriminalization, the upward trend may have contributed to increases in public drug use and public disorder). Additionally, fentanyl proliferated in the state’s drug supply at the time Measure 110 was enacted and was identified as the primary contributor to rising overdose deaths in the state.

Nonetheless, these issues—both real and perceived—led the state legislature to pass HB 4002 in March 2024. The bill, which brought back penalties for possession, took effect in August of last year. Beyond the content of Measure 110, another factor that may have contributed to its repeal is the fact that stakeholders had different goals—or at least different visions of what those goals would mean and how quickly they could be accomplished.

Proponents’ goal with Measure 110 required a massive cultural shift, which is why, despite the dramatic reduction in arrests for possession, many critics focused on its failure to swiftly reduce overdose deaths or improve treatment engagement. These outcomes were arguably part of proponents’ aims as well as citizens’ and lawmakers’; however, they needed much more time to accomplish. The effort was further damaged by messaging and perceptions connecting decriminalization to issues driven in full or in large part by other social and economic factors, including the global pandemic and the changing drug supply.

This type of dissonance is not unusual in the policy realm, and it is not limited to substance-related or other controversial laws. As Oregon grappled with drug decriminalization, Illinois became the first state to eliminate cash bail—a policy that a recent executive order (EO) from the Trump administration seeks to overturn.

Illinois Pretrial Fairness Act: Ending cash bail and redefining pretrial dentention

In 2021, Illinois took a historic step with the passage of the SAFE-T Act, which included the Pretrial Fairness Act (PFA)—the first law in the nation to eliminate the use of cash bail. After a delay for litigation on constitutionality, the reform ultimately took effect in September 2023. For the last two years, judges have decided whether someone should be detained based on public safety and flight risk rather than the size of their wallet.

The goal was straightforward but transformative: Pretrial justice should focus on those who pose a real threat, not those who can afford to pay. But as with many major reforms, the PFA exposed the challenge of unclear or competing policy goals. To build the coalition needed for passage, lawmakers expanded the list of offenses that qualify for preventive detention. While that compromise satisfied some safety concerns, it also complicated what some advocates would posit as the reform’s central purpose: to reduce unnecessary pretrial incarceration. Policymakers and advocates alike agreed on the need to change the system, though not necessarily on what successful implementation should look like.

Early data paint a nuanced picture: Illinois did not experience the surge in crime or missed court appearances critics warned them about. Most defendants are appearing for hearings and avoiding new arrests while their cases move forward, but the numbers have been disappointing for those who hoped for dramatic change. Jail populations have remained stable or even risen slightly in some counties, and advocates who hoped the reform would quickly correct racial disparities in pretrial detention have likewise seen slower progress than expected.

Still, the absence of a serious movement to repeal the law may itself be a sign of its success, although some pointed changes have been proposed. In a polarized climate, sustaining a significant criminal justice reform through its early implementation is no small feat. Illinois’ system is functioning largely as intended, even if stakeholders continue to measure success in different ways.

The tension between competing goals and expectations highlights why defining success—and being prepared to defend it—is so critical to successful advocacy and change. While the PFA’s intent is to ensure that dangerous people are held pretrial rather than poor people, many also hope it will reduce incarceration, improve racial equity, and save taxpayer dollars. Each of these outcomes matters, yet each requires different strategies and timelines. When reforms lack clear priorities or communication fails to clarify them, even sound policies can appear ineffective.

That lack of clarity can also have real political consequences. Failing to define and communicate success opens the door for critics to rewrite the narrative. On Aug. 25, 2025, the Trump administration issued an EO calling for an end to cashless bail nationwide—explicitly placing a target on Illinois’ reform. The order framed cashless bail as a threat to public safety, ignoring the fact that eliminating cash bail does not mean eliminating detention; it means detention is based on risk rather than wealth. Not only did this move misrepresent Illinois’ system, it also served as a warning to other states considering similar reforms. Even effective policies can become political liabilities if their goals and outcomes are not communicated clearly and their successes made evident to all parties affected.

Texas: A different approach to the same problem

While Illinois sought to reduce unnecessary detention by eliminating cash bail, Texas—a very different state politically—moved in a different direction, expanding judicial authority to deny bail altogether for certain offenses while retaining its cash bail system. During this year’s legislative session, state legislators passed four bail-related bills signed into law by Gov. Greg Abbott, including a resolution that put this matter on voters’ ballots in fall 2025. Voters ultimately approved Proposition 3, a constitutional amendment requiring judges to deny bail for certain serious offenses if prosecutors demonstrate that releasing the accused would endanger the community.

Giving judges the ability to detain truly dangerous defendants is important, but the overall goal should extend further. Any expansion of preventive detention should pair with clear procedural safeguards and efforts to keep low-risk individuals out of jail to avoid straining system capacity. Without these, Texas risks adverse consequences (i.e., worsening jail overcrowding and costs without improving outcomes), which threatens the ultimate lasting success of the new system modifications.

The contrast between Illinois and Texas reveals how competing policy goals can drive states toward different versions of reform. Illinois eliminated cash bail to make pretrial detention more equitable, while Texas retained bail but empowered judges to deny it in more cases. Both reforms claim to improve fairness and safety, although they define those terms in varying ways. Each approach broadly improves its respective state’s pretrial system, albeit driven by different public pressures. However, both also illustrate the same policy risk: When lawmakers and advocates focus on a single objective—fairness in one case, safety in the other—without balancing both, results can be incomplete or even unstable in the long term.

Lessons for policymakers

A consistent lesson emerges across Oregon, Illinois, and Texas. Unclear or competing policy goals can undermine even the most well designed reforms. Oregon’s Measure 110 faltered when stakeholders disagreed on whether the priority was reducing arrests, lowering overdoses, or reshaping social attitudes toward addiction. Illinois’ bail reform is succeeding by some measures and disappointing by others, depending on whose definition of success is used. And Texas’ new amendment may struggle if expanded detention is not paired with further commitments to limiting pretrial detention and protecting due process.

Lawmakers looking to avoid these pitfalls and craft policy that is both effective and lasting should consider the following steps:  

• Identify the policy’s intended goals and which stakeholders are on board because of which goals. Consider the potential differences between these goals and address any tensions those distinctions may cause.
  
• Remain open to incremental change coupled with continued commitment to iterative fine-tuning over time.
  
• Decide how to measure success. This includes identifying which metrics to use as well as how and when to measure them.  
  
• Develop an education strategy to ensure policymakers, advocates, and the public understand the policy’s potential goals and timeline. Do not sell the policy as a cure-all when it is not. Make a plan for managing community expectations.
  
• Identify potential unintended consequences and possible confounding factors that could affect your outcomes. Decide how to measure and communicate about them.

Conclusion

When policymakers fail to articulate clearly what a reform is meant to accomplish—or when different groups interpret success differently—implementation, communication, and evaluation all suffer. Well-intentioned laws can lose support simply because they are misunderstood. Clear goals, transparent metrics, and consistent communication are not just political niceties—they are the foundation of sustainable policy. Without them, even the best reforms risk becoming undone by the very misunderstandings they were supposed to solve.