The One-Page Fix That Costs a Thousand Pages to Execute:
A collaboration between Lewis McLain & AI
Why Good Intentions Make Bad Laws When Enforcement Is an Afterthought
Every society faces moments of shock: a fire that traps a family behind burglar bars, a child injured by a defective product, a tragedy on a highway that could have been prevented. In the aftermath, the public demands that leaders take action. Elected officials, caught between moral responsibility and political pressure, reach for the fastest tool available — a new law. Something must be done. And too often, that “something” becomes a one-page ordinance drafted in the heat of the moment, written more out of outrage than out of careful design.
The universal political problem is not that lawmakers lack compassion or sincerity. The problem is the widespread illusion that a simple rule on paper automatically translates into a solution in real life. The moment we shift from the writing of a law to the carrying out of it, the entire landscape changes. Costs appear. Complexity expands. Enforcement becomes slow, difficult, and expensive. The people whom the rule was meant to protect often end up carrying financial or administrative burdens that no one anticipated. And the government itself becomes vulnerable when it fails to follow through.
The Fire, the Burglar Bars, and the One-Page Rule
A tragic fire in a home offers a perfect example. Smoke fills a hallway, flames rise, and a family cannot escape because the house has fixed burglar bars welded into place decades earlier. The heartbreak is immediate and raw. City leaders respond swiftly. Within days, a simple new ordinance is passed requiring that all burglar bars have an interior quick-release mechanism. The rule is one sentence long. It seems humane, obvious, and urgent.
But the unseen consequences emerge almost immediately. Many older homes have bars so firmly welded that retrofitting them requires grinding, re-cropping, and re-anchoring — a major metalworking project that costs far more than homeowners expect. Thousands of residences suddenly need professional work, and installation prices spike because demand overwhelms supply. Inspectors who were already stretched thin must now visit property after property, unsure whether they should enforce the rule retroactively, gradually, or with some form of grace period. Elderly residents, fixed-income families, and absentee landlords all face the same problem: they cannot comply quickly, and in many cases, they cannot afford to comply at all.
What began as a compassionate one-page fix turns into a months- or years-long administrative and enforcement burden. The good intention remains, but the machinery required to turn that intention into reality simply was not considered.
And this same pattern repeats itself in city halls across the country.
Other Cases Where a Simple Rule Created Complex Enforcement
Consider smoke detector mandates, which often follow a fatal fire. The ordinance usually states that all homes must have working smoke detectors in certain locations. It sounds like a straightforward safety measure. But in older houses without existing wiring, even a basic battery-powered unit may not be enough to meet the fire code. Landlords must retrofit dozens of apartments at their own expense, often discovering that chirping detectors lead tenants to remove the batteries, leaving the owner liable. Inspectors, already responsible for restaurant checks, rental registrations, and fire lane reviews, suddenly face a tripled workload just to verify compliance. A rule that looked effortless on paper becomes a citywide logistical challenge.
A similar situation arises with ADA-compliant handicap parking spaces at older businesses. A short ordinance may require every business to provide at least one properly sized and striped space. On paper, it is a hallmark of accessibility and fairness. But many small storefronts built decades ago have parking lots too narrow to meet the required dimensions without removing all other usable parking. Simple striping becomes an expensive project involving repaving, regrading, and reconfiguring the entire lot. Small business owners, already struggling with rent and utilities, find themselves facing thousands of dollars in unplanned costs. The city, meanwhile, must process waves of variance requests, appeals, and inspections — none of which were contemplated in the original vote.
Short-term rental regulations — the Airbnbs and VRBOs of the world — also illustrate this point well. Cities often pass two-page ordinances requiring hosts to register, meet safety standards, and pay a modest fee. But enforcement becomes a technological and legal minefield. Identifying unregistered properties requires ongoing web-scraping, sophisticated tracking tools, and interdepartmental coordination. Noise complaints surge. Neighborhoods push back. Large corporate rental companies hire attorneys to challenge citations. What seemed like a simple licensing rule becomes a multi-year enforcement project that consumes far more staff time than anticipated.
Plastic bag bans follow the same pattern. A half-page ordinance prohibits thin plastic bags at retail counters. It appears clean and elegant. But stores quickly switch to thicker bags that still count as plastic, just technically meet the law. Small retailers struggle with the cost of paper or reusable bags. Inspectors must decide which kinds of plastic sleeves, produce bags, and delivery packaging are exempt — a process that often requires issuing clarifying memos and amendments. A symbolic environmental gesture becomes a regulatory tangle.
Even texting-while-driving laws, which seem universally logical, reveal the same problem. Officers must determine whether a driver was texting, dialing, using GPS, or simply holding the phone. Proving intent becomes a courtroom battle. Defense attorneys argue privacy issues, argue that GPS use is protected, or claim the driver was simply moving the phone out of the sun. The law, though well-intentioned, is far easier to write than to enforce fairly.
Fire sprinkler retrofit mandates in older apartment complexes are another classic case. After a tragic fire, a city requires that all older buildings install sprinklers. But the cost per unit can run between six and ten thousand dollars, a financial shock that owners cannot absorb without raising rent sharply or closing the property. Inspectors cannot keep up with the inspections, owners beg for extensions, and cities often quietly delay or soften the rule because the housing market cannot handle the immediate impact. Again, the intent is noble; the implementation is overwhelming.
Even drought-triggered lawn-watering restrictions illustrate the same dynamic. A simple rule allows watering only on certain days. But enforcing the rule requires inspectors driving around at dawn or dusk, when sprinklers actually run. Complex irrigation systems malfunction. Elderly residents forget their watering day and unintentionally violate the rule. Neighbors call code enforcement on each other. What seems like a routine drought-management law turns into a delicate exercise in neighborhood diplomacy and enforcement discretion.
The Biggest Cost of All: When the City Gets Sued for Not Enforcing Its Own Laws
Beyond installation costs, administrative burdens, and inspector workloads lies an even greater consequence — one so significant that cities often hesitate to speak of it openly. When a city passes a law and then fails to monitor or enforce it, the government can find itself in the middle of lawsuits alleging negligence, indifference, or failure to uphold its own safety standards.
Courts sometimes treat a safety ordinance as a kind of promise. When a city requires smoke detectors, quick-release bars, ADA access, sprinkler systems, or short-term rental safety checks, it creates a public expectation that these rules will not merely exist on paper but will be enforced. When tragedy occurs — a fire in a unit the city never inspected, a crime at a short-term rental the city never registered, an accident in a business that never complied with parking mandates — attorneys do not hesitate to include the city in the lawsuit.
The legal cost of defending these cases can dwarf the cost of implementing the rule in the first place. Years of depositions, expert testimony, and appeals drain city budgets. Settlements are quietly negotiated because the cost of fighting is even higher. And the political consequences are severe. Newspaper headlines do not say, “City Struggled With Limited Staff Resources.” They say, “City Failed to Enforce Safety Law Before Deadly Fire.” Even when enforcement lapses are rooted in budget constraints or administrative overload, the public sees only that the city wrote a rule it did not uphold.
This is the deepest irony: the cost of not enforcing an ordinance can be higher — sometimes exponentially higher — than the cost of enforcing it.
Why Governments Keep Repeating This Mistake
This dynamic repeats itself across time and geography. The reason is simple. Writing a law is fast; enforcing it is slow. Writing a law is cheap; enforcing it is expensive. Writing a law is politically satisfying; enforcing a law is administratively difficult. And writing a law happens at the height of emotion, when a tragedy is fresh and the public clamors for action, whereas enforcement occurs quietly, day after day, long after public attention has moved on.
Legislators legislate. Administrators administer. Budgets lag. And the machinery required to implement a rule rarely matches the emotion that produced it. The one-page fix becomes a long-term burden, often borne by people who were never considered in the original debate.
What Good Governance Would Require
A better, healthier way of governing would pair every urgent rule with a sober and realistic analysis of what it will take to make that rule real. That means identifying who will carry out the inspections, how long the work will take, what it will cost residents and businesses, how the city will fund the enforcement, how exceptions will be handled, and how the rule will be revisited after the initial surge of compliance. Good policy demands a slower, steadier rhythm than the rapid political impulse that produces these one-page solutions. It requires clarity, patience, and a willingness to acknowledge complexity.
The Universal Lesson
Whether the issue is burglar bars, smoke detectors, ADA parking, short-term rentals, sprinkler systems, plastic bags, or drought-time watering schedules, the pattern is the same. The simpler the law looks on paper, the more complicated it becomes in the real world. The true work of government is not the drafting of a sentence but the building of the machinery behind that sentence.
Until policymakers take the time to consider the cost, the complexity, the staff workload, and the legal exposure that follow every new ordinance, we will continue to pass rules that feel good in the moment yet falter when confronted with the realities of implementation. A tragedy may demand action, but action must be grounded in humility — the humility to recognize that real-world solutions require more than good intentions. They require the discipline to think through the entire life cycle of a law, from its birth in crisis to its long-term enforcement in the quiet, everyday life of a city.