frustration

On my way through Skid Row to meet up with Estela Lopez, things looked pretty much as they did when I spent time there more than 20 years ago and first heard the promises that things would be better soon.

Tents lined some of the sidewalks, making them unpassable. Some people wore the damage of physical or mental disease, addiction, poverty, or all of the above. Outreach workers with ID lanyards strode through the trash-strewn landscape like lifeguards working against endless tides of fresh emergencies.

When I arrived at Lopez’s office in the 700 block of Crocker Street, where she runs a business improvement district on behalf of 600 or so beleaguered merchants, she had just completed a tour of the neighborhood with John McKinney, a candidate for city attorney.

She held a note card in her hand and shared some numbers, telling McKinney that by her latest count, 131 of the 702 streetlights in the district were out, 27 children were living on Skid Row, and 72 RVs were parked in the area.

“I came out here because I think this symbolizes the greatest failure in government,” McKinney said. “I think it’s the result of bad law and bad policy. I think it’s the result of a lack of leadership and indifference to the way people are living out here. To me, it’s completely untenable.”

But will anything ever change?

It’s a question two people in particular need to address, and I’ll get to that in a minute.

A lot of people I trust and admire work tirelessly to make a difference on Skid Row, and they’re always eager to share the success stories of those who move through and move on. (I’ve got a column on that coming up soon.)

The long-standing problem is that Skid Row is both a social service center and a mecca of drugs and other vices, with traps on every block. And so it’s a neighborhood at war with itself, with some viewing Skid Row as one of the largest recovery centers in the country while others see a snapshot of social collapse.

Estela Lopez has reached out to me several times over the years. About illegal dumping. Typhus. Calls to City Hall that don’t get answered. About the relentless plague of fires, overdoses and assaults.

“Can you imagine, in 24 years, how many people I’ve seen dead on these streets?” Lopez asked me near her office last week.

Estela Lopez runs a business improvement district on behalf of 600 or so beleaguered merchants.

(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)

When the local post office closed recently in part because of security issues, Lopez told The Times’ Melissa Gomez that “we have reached a point in this city where we are unable to address criminal activity. … It’s surrender.”

We walked to the corner of 8th Street, where paramedics had just pulled away from a medical emergency. Cars and pedestrians stopped at tents for brief transactions, leaving little doubt as to the nature of the business being conducted.

We passed a caged dog and saw a puppy on a short leash being loaded into a vehicle. There’s a lot of talk about dogs being bred and sold, and Lopez said she’s seen evidence of animals being mistreated.

On 7th Street we passed the charred residue of a recent fire. A half block east, four men were slumped on the sidewalk, hitting pipes. Lopez gets calls from exasperated merchants dealing with vandalism and with people blocking their storefronts.

“I’ve never seen so many people overdose right here,” said Sergio Moreno, who runs a check-cashing business and said his family has been in business going back to the ‘70s. He said he’s seen paramedics use naloxone to revive opioid users, only to see the same people go down again just days later.

“How can you run a business?” asked Moreno, who chairs the board of the business improvement district Lopez runs. “This business is our life. This is how we got through school, this is how we put our kids through school.”

And yet despite paying city taxes and BID fees, Moreno said, problems persist and his customers fear for their safety.

Dr. Susan Partovi, a street medic for 22 years, has been advocating for more proactive intervention for those in obvious distress. Partovi told me she recently saw a man rise from a gutter, pull down his pants and defecate in front of her. She called to get help for him but said neither paramedics nor police determined him to be gravely disabled.

Lopez walks past residents of Skid Row last week. By her latest count, 131 of the 702 streetlights in the district were out, 27 children were living on Skid Row, and 72 RVs were parked in the area.

(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)

“We have become complacent with having people lying in the gutter, having diarrhea, speaking nonsensically and putting their lives at risk,” said Partovi, whom I once accompanied as she administered long-acting anti-psychotic injections, arguing that people need clear heads to make better choices.

One sore point for Lopez is the Skid Row Care Campus in the 400 block of Crocker Street, which opened a little more than a year ago and offers all sorts of social services, meds that reduce drug cravings, and supplies that allow for safe use of drugs.

Lopez said she understands the theory of harm reduction: Engage people with a goal of getting them into treatment and back on track. But she wonders how successful such programs are, and argues that they become magnets for lawlessness.

As we talked, a young man approached and told Lopez he’d seen her airing her grievances on TV news.

“I’m wondering, what would be your solution?” he asked.

“I would hope that people could return to life in sobriety,” Lopez responded.

The man said he is “trying to elevate” himself, but that he’d been on a waiting list for housing for six months.

Lopez is tired of being on a waiting list, too.

“If something is working down here,” she told me, “you can’t prove it by me.”

Progress is undeniable, said Sieglinde von Deffner, a social worker and Skid Row coordinator for the Los Angeles County Department of Homeless Services and Housing. But given the “highly vulnerable” nature of the population, “the need is colossal,” she said.

A man stands among his belongings along 7th Street in Skid Row in downtown Los Angeles.

(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)

“I have not yet met someone here who doesn’t want housing of some kind. We just don’t have enough affordable housing for everyone,” Von Deffner said, and long-term homelessness makes people harder to reach. “Now, if we could just stop the inflow.”

Dennis Culhane, a University of Pennsylvania professor who researches homelessness and served as an L.A. County consultant, said there are other ways to get people indoors than investing billions of dollars in new housing that takes years to build. Culhane said single adults who are not veterans, including the elderly and disabled, constitute a majority of the homeless population. But assistance is scarce.

“It’s like you have a famine, and you’ve only got food for 15% of the people,” Culhane said.

Rapid rehousing is critical for the newly homeless, he said. But it can take two years for them to qualify for Social Security disability, and once they do, the $1,000 a month “is completely deficient in the face of rising rents.”

Culhane recommends faster approval of SSI benefits and supplementing that income with additional sources of rental assistance. He believes there are enough vacancies at the low end of the housing market to make a sizable dent in homelessness without new construction.

Judy Mauricio, 65, who has been homeless for nine years, rests inside her tent next to her walker. She says her drug addiction has kept her on the street. She receives state disability funds and says she has cancer.

(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)

As campaign season warms up, I’d like to know if Mayor Karen Bass and her challenger, Councilmember Nithya Raman, agree.

The mayor of L.A. is limited by a power split with the City Council, and the county oversees most addiction and mental health services. But Skid Row sits just a few blocks from the seat of city authority, and nobody has more power or responsibility to address the decades-long human catastrophe on Skid Row than the mayor.

Estela Lopez and the merchants deserve better. The people on the street deserve better. Thousands of housed residents deserve better.

Does Bass have a plan other than what’s currently in place? Does Raman have a better one?

If so, I’d like to hear the details, and I’m available.

steve.lopez@latimes.com

Over the last decade, California became a national leader in voter accessibility and security, expanding options for when and how ballots can be cast while also strengthening election safeguards.

But those reforms came at a cost: speed. And in a political climate where unsupported conspiracies about election fraud can run rampant on social media — pushed, at times, by top political leaders — some fear the slow vote count is becoming a liability.

Election outcomes in recent years have become more drawn out in California, most recently taking about a week to determine the gubernatorial and Los Angeles mayoral candidates advancing to November’s runoff after hotly contested primaries. And in prior years, it’s taken even longer to determine tight U.S. House or state Senate seats.

That trade-off — election accessibility and security over quick results — has long been defended as a byproduct of California’s desire to make it as easy as possible to cast a ballot while ensuring accuracy and integrity, something backers say remains vital to a thriving democracy.

But some experts say the increasing backlash over the slow vote count sows distrust.

“We’ve allowed the long count to be normalized, … but that doesn’t mean it’s normal,” said Kim Alexander, president of the nonpartisan California Voter Foundation, who has become an advocate for accelerating the state’s vote count. “There’s no question that voter confidence is eroding.”

A slower vote count does not signal any indication of fraud, despite unfounded claims over the last week by President Trump and others. Election officials and nonpartisan groups make clear that voter fraud remains extremely rare in the U.S., and there’s been no evidence of any such issues in California’s latest primary count.

But studies have found that voter trust slides as results lag, and this primary made clear that disinformation gains more traction the longer contests drag on, especially with lead changes.

That came to pass this primary, particularly as reality TV personality Spencer Pratt slowly lost his initial second-place ranking in the L.A. mayor’s race, before later batches of votes bumped him from the runoff — fueling an onslaught of social media hysteria: claims of so-called corruption and vote dumping, misinformed examples of alleged fraud and right-wing disinformation campaigns.

But making any substantive changes — particularly before November’s general election — would be an uphill battle, especially in deep-blue California, where Democrats tend to resist limits to voter access. And some are urging restraint.

“We should never drive policy based on conspiracy theories and lies,” said David Becker, the executive director of the nonpartisan Center for Election Innovation & Research. “That said, are there things California can do?”

Some suggestions, such as increased funding for county election offices and more education about early voting, would probably make some difference.

But the crux of the slow count comes from a flood of last-minute mail-in ballots — in a state with about one-eighth of the U.S. population. When a large percentage of California’s voters mail or drop off these ballots on or just before election day — as they tend to — it creates what Alexander calls the “pig in the python” effect: a major backlog of labor-intensive ballots to process, in a state that already handles the largest-volume ballot counts.

While verification occurs simultaneously during in-person voting, election officials in California are required to confirm a voter’s registration status, verify each voter’s signature and ensure each person did not vote elsewhere for each vote-by-mail ballot. Becker called it an “intensively human process” that cannot be sped through — but could be spread out by more early voting.

“It is a lot easier to report results out faster when ballots come in sooner,” Becker said.

Altering that process significantly enough to ease that bottleneck would likely come with other trade-offs, experts said, such as earlier deadlines to turn in certain ballots or more time-consuming ballot drop-offs — either of which might dissuade some voters from showing up. Mail-in ballots have overwhelmingly become Californians favorite way to vote, with more than 80% of voters using that method in every election since 2020.

But California didn’t become known for slow ballot counting overnight. Since the turn of the millennium, the state has taken several steps to increase voter access by expanding options for how, when and where voters can cast their ballot, while also strengthening its processes to become what the secretary of state’s office calls “the strongest voting security standards in the country.”

Those changes have included same-day voter registration, more early voting options, replacing neighborhood-specific polling places with vote centers, and most notably, universal vote-by-mail, which in 2021 required that all registered voters be mailed their ballot, which can be mailed back, returned to a secure drop box or vote center or ignored if the voter opts to vote in person.

Many Democratic voters this year waited to turn in their ballots due to the crowded pool of gubernatorial candidates, which probably exacerbated the already-slow process.

Still, that was expected. Election watchdogs and party officials from both parties tried to temper Californians’ expectations about the timing of results from the primary, reminding voters that it would likely take days if not weeks to call close races.

But when that exact process began to play out — particularly in the extremely tight contests for California governor and Los Angeles mayor — it almost immediately brought criticism and concern.

“None of the optics are good,” complained Roxanne Hoge, chair of the Los Angeles County Republican Party. “None of this is designed to inspire confidence.”

As Gov. Gavin Newsom’s office tried to dispel misinformation about California’s ballot tabulation process, the statement also said, “For the record: we wish the votes were counted faster, too.”

Not only would a speedier election count improve voter trust, which can often increase participation, Alexander said, it would also decrease harassment of election workers and help newly elected candidates step into their new roles faster — and eliminate a long limbo period for the losing candidate.

“We can get it right and do it faster, and we should,” Alexander said.

A 2023 law allowed counties to provide voters an opportunity to cast their vote-by-mail ballot as an in-person ballot, by submitting it sans envelope and signing for it at a vote center, which reduces the verification process required by election workers. About half of California counties have adopted some option of this expedited process, according to the California Voter Foundation, some calling it “Sign, scan and go!” or the “naked ballot” option, but more widespread implementation of this could help speed up the count, Alexander said. Los Angeles County, which processes more ballots than many states, has not yet implemented this time-saving option.

California also allows ballots, if postmarked by election day, to be accepted up to a week after polls close — though that policy may soon be forced to change depending how the Supreme Court rules on a case challenging ballots arriving after election day. Still, these late-arriving ballots don’t account for a large share of the delays in California: in 2024, only about 2.5% of all ballots arrived in the mail after election day.

But some election observers point out that even when compared with states with similarly run elections, California still lags behind.

“California simply counts the ballots it has too slowly and its elections offices are underfunded,” election analysts Eli McKown-Dawson and Nate Silver recently wrote in a Substack piece. “If you want people to be confident in your electoral system, a good first step is to build one that works properly.”

And while seven other states also automatically mail voters ballots, experts say it’s hard to make direct comparisons with California. Some critics often point to Colorado as an example of a state with similarly ubiquitous mail-in voting, yet a much faster count than California. But the scale of states’ elections are so different: In 2024, California processed about 13 million vote-by-mail ballots; not even 3 million were counted in Colorado.

Some have also pointed out that despite all the ways California has worked to expand voter accessibility, turnout hasn’t dramatically changed. California remains relatively in the middle of the pack when it comes to voter turnout across the U.S., and while the state has seen some spikes in turnout during certain election years, there’s been no noticeable uptick over the last 15 years, according to a review of data from 2008 to 2024.

But Becker contended that there are many factors that can influence voter turnout, in particular, California’s strong blue tilt.

“Perceived competitiveness” — or lack thereof — often keeps voters from the polls, as can uninspiring campaigns or even the weather, Becker said, but he was adamant that shouldn’t be a reason to make it harder for people to vote.

“Accessibility is always worth it,” Becker said.

Hoge, the GOP chair, had a different take, highlighting concerns about the voter registration process as well as the slow count — though she has been clear that the latter doesn’t necessarily signal fraud.

She has continued to push a more tempered narrative to many Republican leaders, including from the White House. On X, she shared a post that fact-checked a photo of vote tabulations from L.A. County, which appeared to — erroneously — show reality TV personality Spencer Pratt receiving no new votes in a daily vote count. And she boosted a video that dispelled rumors about Democrats stealing votes and ones about widespread fraud in California’s process.

“It’s a horrible roller coaster,” Hoge said about California’s election results. “It doesn’t make sense, and the fact that you’re just noticing it today doesn’t mean that it’s newly not making sense. … But until we win, we can’t change it.”

No matter what California might change or improve, Becker said he is confident it won’t stop the criticism or campaigns of misinformation. He also said that most elections in California are called relatively quickly — take the state’s pick for president, which is usually confirmed on election night — but it’s a small share of extremely tight races that take longer, because they require a more complete count to call a winner.

“It doesn’t matter how fast California counts its ballots, … we would be seeing similar conspiracy theories, maybe just with a different framing,” Becker said. “California ends up being a very effective bogeyman.”

Staff writer Kevin Rector contributed to this report.