St. Louis, MO – A controversial Missouri law that makes it a misdemeanor to sleep or camp on state-owned land has drawn national attention and prompted a legal challenge from housing advocates, formerly homeless individuals, and nonprofit leaders. Critics say the law criminalizes homelessness rather than addressing the root causes of housing insecurity.
A Law Under Fire
Passed by the Republican-led state legislature in June 2023 and now in effect, the law makes it illegal to camp or sleep on state land after one warning. It redirects funding from permanent housing to short-term shelters, mental health care, and substance abuse services. It also financially rewards cities that reduce homelessness, while penalizing those that don’t meet state benchmarks by cutting funding.
A Circuit Court judge upheld the law, ruling it constitutional, but a group of plaintiffs—including Jonathan Byrd, an advocate who has experienced homelessness multiple times—have appealed to the Missouri Supreme Court. They argue the law is vague, improperly written, and violates the state constitution’s requirement for clear legislative purpose and title.
Who Is Being Affected?
On any given night, nearly 6,000 Missourians are without housing, and many, like Byrd, work full-time jobs or rely on friends for shelter. Byrd, who now organizes for tenants in Springfield, Missouri, said he joined the lawsuit to give a voice to those directly impacted by the law.
“I’m trying to fight for people who are impacted having a say in the things that are going to affect them,” Byrd said.
Advocates like Jonathan Belcher of St. Patrick’s Center in St. Louis say the law reflects harmful stereotypes and punishes people simply for being poor or in crisis.
“Reducing homelessness doesn’t mean we need to criminalize it,” Belcher said. “We need more resources and housing, not more handcuffs.”
Enforcement Still Murky
Despite the law being in place for months, no clear reports exist of it being enforced in St. Louis. The St. Louis Metropolitan Police Department told PBS NewsHour they had no records under the law’s official charge. It’s also unclear how cities or individuals are meant to determine what land is state-owned, leading to confusion and fear among the unhoused.
Furthermore, Missouri’s Department of Economic Development declined to offer specifics about how it would monitor funding or track homelessness rates under the new policy.
Real Stories Behind the Statistics
The human toll of homelessness is felt deeply by individuals like Jessica Honeycutt, a plaintiff in the lawsuit and a community health worker who narrowly avoided homelessness during the pandemic. With rising rents across Missouri—up 18% since 2020—she believes the state is ignoring the real issue: affordable housing.
“Feeding the prison system seems more beneficial than helping people find homes,” she said.
Then there’s Marna Coleman, a St. Louis veteran who was homeless with her infant after returning from deployment. After receiving help from the St. Patrick’s Center, she now owns a home and runs a nonprofit helping unhoused veterans. But she’s still angered by the state’s approach.
“Criminalizing people for sleeping outside is unacceptable,” Coleman said. “We need to meet people where they are. That’s how we begin to fix the problem.”
Bigger Picture: A Nationwide Trend
Missouri’s law is part of a broader national shift. According to the National Homelessness Law Center, at least 48 states have laws restricting behaviors associated with homelessness. Some, like Tennessee and Kansas, have passed similar laws criminalizing sleeping on public land.
The National Alliance to End Homelessness says the key issue is economic. The gap between wages and rent continues to grow, driving more people into homelessness. The U.S. is also short nearly 4 million housing units, according to Freddie Mac.
“In a country as wealthy as ours, people should be able to count on a stable place to live,” said Steve Berg, policy chief at the Alliance.
As Missouri’s homelessness law heads to the state’s Supreme Court, it symbolizes a clash between short-term enforcement and long-term solutions. With advocates, formerly unhoused individuals, and nonprofit leaders calling for investment in affordable housing and supportive services, the question remains: Will lawmakers listen?
Criminalizing poverty does not solve the crisis—it only shifts it from sidewalks to courtrooms. Lasting change will come from addressing the root causes, not from punishing those who fall through the cracks.
