The California Paradox: Soft on Crime, Hard on Taxpayers

I love California. I have called it home for the past 23 years. But we have a common sense problem.

California lawmakers are stuck in a loop. It goes like this:

First, take an indefensible stance on crime.

Second, defend it with a kind of smug abstraction that only makes sense inside the Capitol.

Third, watch public outrage explode.

Fourth, reverse course.

Fifth, pretend it never happened.

It’s become a ritual so predictable, it no longer registers as scandal. Just governance in California.

Last week, the latest chapter played out with Assembly Bill 379. The bill, introduced by Assemblymember Maggy Krell, a Democrat and former prosecutor, sought to impose felony penalties on adults who solicit sex from 16- and 17-year-olds. It closed a disturbing gap in California law, which already treats the purchase of sex from those under 16 as a felony but bizarrely draws a softer line at 16 and 17.

This isn’t a gray area. These are minors. The intent of adult offenders is not in question. And the public response was clear: fix the law.

Instead, Democratic leaders gutted the bill. They removed its core penalties and replaced them with vague promises to “protect minors.” They even removed Krell’s name from the legislation. It was a quiet act of self-sabotage — until it wasn’t quiet anymore. The backlash came quickly. Within days, the original provisions were restored, Krell’s name reinstated, and the bill moved forward.

But the real story isn’t this one bill. It’s the pattern.

This happened in 2023 with a bill that would’ve classified child sex trafficking as a “serious” felony. Democrats blocked it in committee, arguing that such crimes were already serious if they involved additional harm — like physical injury. That technical defense collapsed under public scrutiny. The bill was resurrected and passed.

In 2024, they tried to stop a ballot measure to reform Proposition 47 — the 2014 law that downgraded theft and drug possession from felonies to misdemeanors. Rather than offer a coherent alternative, Democrats threatened to kill their own crime legislation if voters approved the measure. Then they tried procedural tricks to slip in a competing ballot proposal. That effort imploded. The original reform passed with nearly 70 percent of the vote.

The public keeps sending signals. And Sacramento keeps covering its ears.

What exactly is going on here?

To the average Californian, these stories are baffling. Why would anyone — let alone a supermajority party that claims to champion justice — resist stronger laws against child trafficking or sex crimes against minors?

Because increasingly, the dominant view within the Democratic establishment isn’t just that the system is broken — but that criminalization itself is inherently unjust. That punishment, even for the most vile offenses, is part of the problem. It’s a worldview that sees legal accountability not as a civic duty, but as a moral hazard.

It’s an outlook shaped more by ideology than by lived experience. And it has created a strange kind of policy schizophrenia: tough on tax collection, soft on criminal behavior.

Let’s unpack that.

California leads the nation in high-income tax rates, sales taxes, gas taxes, and business regulations. When the budget runs short — and despite record revenues, it always seems to — the response is rarely to cut waste or reassess priorities. It’s to find new sources of revenue: more fees, more surcharges, more aggressive enforcement of minor infractions like late registrations or backdated penalties.

You can see it in how the state treats small businesses. You can see it in how the Franchise Tax Board operates. You can see it in how quickly the state will garnish wages over a tax dispute but drag its feet on violent crime enforcement.

When it comes to revenue, the state shows no hesitation in using force. But when it comes to safety, it suddenly grows squeamish.

The result is a government that feels upside-down to the people who live under it. Petty crimes go unpunished. Public spaces feel less safe. Repeat offenders cycle through the system without consequence. Meanwhile, the law-abiding citizen gets penalized at every turn — for being a contractor, for misfiling a return, for trying to build a second unit on their property.

It breeds resentment. Not because people don’t want to pay taxes or show compassion. But because they don’t want to be governed by a state that confuses weakness for wisdom.

This is not sustainable.

Democrats control a supermajority in California. They can pass virtually any law they choose. And yet, they continue to govern like a party afraid of its own base. Afraid to say that some things — like buying a teenager for sex — deserve harsh consequences. Afraid to draw moral lines in a state that badly needs them.

In place of moral clarity, we get euphemisms. We get sentences that start with “while we condemn all forms of harm…” and end with nothing at all. We get working groups and grant proposals and press conferences, but not laws that actually prevent harm.

And we get reversals — lots of them. Not because minds were changed, but because polling came in. Because public outrage outpaced political calculation.

This is not what leadership looks like. This is damage control masquerading as principle.

The irony is that voters in California are not nearly as ideological as their representatives.

Most people don’t live on Twitter. They don’t view every policy through the lens of carceral abolition or libertarian purity. They want what works. They want laws that reflect reality. And they want a state that uses its power responsibly — not just to raise revenue, but to maintain order.

But instead of delivering on those basics, Sacramento lawmakers have become experts in deflection. They frame every debate as a false choice: either you’re with reform, or you’re with mass incarceration. Either you support compassion, or you support cruelty. It’s a juvenile framing of an adult issue.

Accountability is not cruelty. It’s the basis of civic trust.

If Democrats don’t rediscover that, they will lose more than policy battles. They’ll lose the confidence of the people they claim to serve.

And they’ll deserve to.

Because at some point, voters will stop distinguishing between well-meaning incompetence and deliberate neglect. They will look at the boarded-up storefronts, the hollowed-out downtowns, the unsafe public spaces, and ask the only question that matters: who let it get this bad?

The answer won’t come from a talking point. It will come from lived reality.

In that world, no amount of grants, commissions, or tax increases will fix what was lost. Not until lawmakers remember what government is for.

Not to perform. Not to placate.

But to protect.