The current system leaves individuals vulnerable to invasive inspections that undermine privacy. If there was a rule to add, it would be to prohibit tax assessors and county officials from entering or inspecting properties—especially in sight of open windows—without an appointment. This policy aligns with tenant rights, because, effectively, landowners are “renting” from the government, and deserving of the same respect and privacy as any tenant.
This leads me to a larger point, why are so many islanders worried about random inspections? If the codes, plans, and permitting processes are to keep people safe, they need to reflect reality. What’s less safe than living in a trailer or RV? Living in nothing at all. Despite significant tax money allocated for housing and homelessness, and state laws requiring housing solutions for the lowest income brackets, people who live in trailers face penalties for choosing one of the few affordable housing options available. Every trailer removed from the community is more than just a lost dwelling—it’s a lost worker, a lost contributor to the local economy, and a potential path to stability cut short.
Groups of tiny homes should be legalized, IF they are open to inspection and incorporated into a farm and/or land management plan. They should fall under rent control, with oversight by a tenant union to protect residents from landlord abuse and the excessive profiting of a finite resource. In this way, tiny homes become part of a broader, community-centered housing solution rather than a loophole for exploitative rental practices.
It’s very restrictive for clusters of tiny homes on trailers to be illegal, when they work wonderfully mixed in with the rest of a development. As long as they follow the average footprint rule, I don't see why movable, seismically sound, structures couldn't be allowed in a housing cluster. Co-owners in these developments should be able to rent spaces out at a low cost as well. Most people don't want to buy into a communal project unless they have had time to feel it out, and the same goes for already established residents. Here, friends and family randomly lose their housing, so a short term rental option in a community would be nice. As long as the leasing entity doesn't profit, and follows affordable set rent limits, there shouldn't be an issue.
Land management requirements around flexible development should exist to mandate that biodiversity increases with the addition of dwellings and residents. The guiding principle here is simple: more people and homes should equal a richer, healthier ecosystem. This model builds community while supporting native species, sustainable food systems, and responsible water use. Many tiny home residents already treat their yards as extensions of their living space, and landscape with a good mixture of sunlight and density, creating privacy between neighbors and ideal edges for native or cultivated species to grow. In reality, concrete slabs, large houses, and lawns contribute to most of the underutilized spaces in western washington. Perching lightly is not that harmful to the environment, and is only unsightly and unhealthy when there are no legal pathways to access healthcare (for poverty-related illness), financing, or upgrades.
People have more time and energy to contribute positively when they aren’t bogged down by the constant problems associated with RV living, and tend to keep spaces nicer as a result.
In the fast-track world of wealthy developers, properties get “rolled out” in massive, costly projects driven by profit, often with dismal results. With no room for trial and error, these developments barrel forward like a bullet, lacking the fluidity to adjust and course-correct. The entire endeavor feels impersonal. The result? Big, glaring failures: wasted land, impractical layouts, and frivolous crop plantings. Where working people plant food staples like potatoes, wealthy developers go for lavender, ignoring the needs of a community increasingly dependent on local food sources.
Once word gets out that an employer is abusive, finding islanders to hire becomes impossible, so they bring in off-island employees to treat as disposable. If these developers can bring in exploitative worker housing under the guise of farm operations, then we should have access to worker housing options for our community’s own cooperative, sustainable farms, within a timeline and development model that is achievable for the working individual.
Farms on a tighter budget develop land differently—slowly, cooperatively, and with respect for the seasons. Property owners work, save, take in family, and endure hardships, and gradually upgrade and improve the land and their housing. They plant, build, fail, learn, form alliances with neighbors, create spaces in their lives. They experiment, innovate, and make gradual changes to yield more abundance. Using land to its fullest potential requires an active, and engaged, community.
Humans have a place in nature. We bring balance, solve problems, and grow food that most creatures enjoy, but our island economy is allowing for less and less of that every year. The biggest impact we can have on reducing suffering within our community isn’t through government programs, corporate solutions, or nonprofit handouts. It’s in allowing the residents of this island to use their land flexibly—to blend agricultural, cottage industry, and dwelling spaces so that different endeavors can come about as needed and flourish in cycles of necessity.