A firsthand look at a broken shelter system — and how it might be fixed.
I’ve witnessed New York City’s homelessness crisis from multiple vantage points — first as someone who experienced it directly and now as someone working to transform the system. What I’ve learned is that two intertwined systems perpetuate this crisis: the “shelter industrial complex” and “poverty pimping.” The shelter industrial complex encompasses a vast network of shelter providers, nonprofit organizations, government agencies and private contractors who profit from homelessness while offering few pathways to permanent housing. Poverty pimping describes how these entities and individuals build careers and amass wealth by presenting themselves as solutions to poverty while actually sustaining it.
The shelter industrial complex dominating New York City’s response to homelessness today has deep historical roots. In the 1970s and 1980s, the city witnessed a dramatic decline in affordable housing options. Single-room occupancy (SRO) units — once a vital resource for low-income New Yorkers — disappeared due to urban renewal policies and zoning changes. This dismantling of affordable housing laid the groundwork for a housing crisis and birthed the multibillion-dollar shelter industry.
A pivotal moment came in 1981 with the Callahan v. Carey consent decree, establishing New York’s unique right to shelter. While this landmark decision protected homeless individuals from sleeping on the streets, it inadvertently created a system focused on expanding shelters rather than addressing the root cause: the lack of affordable housing. The issue worsened in 1992, when future New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo, at Mayor David Dinkins’ request, authored a report recommending the transfer of shelter operations from government agencies to nonprofit providers. This “nonprofitization” was intended to improve shelter conditions but instead created a vast network of organizations dependent on maintaining homeless populations to sustain their operations.
Today, New York City’s shelter system operates on a staggering scale. A recent Crain’s New York Business investigation revealed that 14 nonprofit organizations each hold contracts worth more than $1 billion in taxpayer money. According to Crain’s, the disparity between executive compensation and frontline worker wages at these organizations is glaring. Some executives earn upward of $800,000 annually — more than triple the mayor’s salary of $258,750 — while many shelter workers earn minimum wage or slightly above.
This wage gap reflects systemic flaws in homeless services funding, where government contracts often fail to allocate adequate resources for direct service roles. While organizations justify executive salaries by citing the complexity of managing multimillion-dollar budgets, this dynamic perpetuates a troubling reality: Those working directly with homeless individuals often struggle with their own financial stability.
But wage disparities are far from the most pressing problem within the New York shelter system. Having first experienced homelessness at age twelve when I was discharged from a group home onto the streets of New York City, I witnessed how the system’s failures can permanently shape a child’s life. Years later, I entered the shelter system as a single father due to a bureaucratic error — the City wrongfully charged me for child support despite my having full custody of my son.
What began as a temporary solution became our reality throughout my son’s middle school and high school years. After my son aged out, I entered the single adult shelter system and saw how the system often prioritizes maintaining bed counts over achieving permanent housing outcomes. Some shelters counted me as part of their population even when I would retreat to the streets for months, and when I returned, the same bed was waiting — with no real progress on an individualized housing plan. In shelters where occupancy is low, there’s little incentive to focus on getting people housed, and instead, the emphasis stays on maintaining numbers rather than creating pathways to permanent housing.
In my own experience, the system often prioritizes maintaining bed counts over achieving permanent housing outcomes.
The misallocation of resources within the shelter industrial complex prioritizes profit over people’s basic needs. While claiming budget constraints, many providers spend excessively on security measures that create a prison-like atmosphere rather than investing in services promoting dignity and independence. The quality of food served in shelters often borders on inhumane — a cost-cutting measure that dehumanizes residents while padding bottom lines. Though their nonprofit status suggests a mission of public service, their financial decisions tell a different story: The more money on balance sheets, the easier it becomes to justify executive bonuses and inflated salaries.
The system typically responds to criticism by trying to silence and discredit those who speak out. When advocates like me challenge the shelter industrial complex, we often become victims of retaliation. This mirrors troubling historical patterns, like when 19th century doctors invented the fake diagnosis of “drapetomania” to label enslaved people who sought freedom as mentally ill. Today, people who speak out against poor shelter conditions or push for major changes are often dismissed as “service-resistant” or “troublemakers” — labels that blame individuals instead of addressing the system’s deep problems. This resistance to meaningful change is deeply intertwined with poverty pimping; those who profit from maintaining the status quo have a vested interest in silencing critics and defending their positions as the gatekeepers of services and resources. The more they can discredit and marginalize voices calling for change, the longer they can maintain their grip on the systems and funding that perpetuate poverty while enriching themselves.
The racial dynamics at play make this especially troubling: While Black and brown communities bear the brunt of homelessness due to generations of gentrification and discriminatory housing policies, the leadership of many homeless services organizations remains predominantly white and economically privileged. This creates a profound disconnect where those most impacted by homelessness have the least influence over potential solutions. The same organizations that claim to serve these communities often perpetuate harmful power dynamics that silence and marginalize the very voices that should be central to any meaningful reform.
My experience demonstrates that a different path is possible. I’ve successfully built strong working relationships with Mayor Eric Adams’ administration, engaging regularly with the mayor, deputy mayors and commissioners to tackle critical issues. Instead of being excluded from policy discussions, I’ve been welcomed to the decision-making table, where I actively contribute to improving the system. Importantly, I’ve also brought other New Yorkers with lived experience in the shelter system into these conversations.
Those most impacted by homelessness have the least influence over potential solutions.
Together, this group of “impacted advocates” has driven significant reforms, such as the elimination of the 90-day rule, which previously required individuals to remain in a shelter for 90 days before qualifying for CityFHEPS rental vouchers. This outdated policy prolonged homelessness for many and delayed access to stable housing. By ending this rule, the administration has expanded eligibility for vital housing assistance, showing that when systems genuinely listen to those who have experienced homelessness firsthand, meaningful and lasting reform becomes achievable.
Like many with lived experience, I initially viewed shelter providers as perpetrators of a flawed system. However, my perspective evolved through direct engagement with these organizations — first as a resident and later as a board member of a shelter provider whose facility I once lived in. I now recognize that many providers operate within rigid governmental constraints that hinder innovation and prioritize bureaucratic metrics over meaningful outcomes.
To address these systemic failures, we must fundamentally rethink how we respond to homelessness. My work with the Adams administration on the City of Yes for Housing Opportunity initiative focuses on removing zoning barriers that restrict housing development. But policy change alone is insufficient. That’s why I established LionFox Development, with two parallel missions: creating what I call “Sensible Housing” to expand affordable housing options and developing “Holistic Shelters” to transform the emergency shelter experience.
Holistic Shelters will reimagine emergency housing as more than beds and meals, replacing congregate dorm-style facilities with innovative smart pods. These individual, secured spaces would provide essential privacy and dignity, allowing residents to feel safe and maintain personal autonomy while working toward stability. The facilities will integrate on-site services — mental health support, job training and housing navigation — while fostering environments that nurture independence and growth. Case managers and housing specialists would work closely with residents to develop personalized housing plans, while job counselors help build career pathways that can sustain long-term stability. Success in these spaces would be measured not by the number of beds filled or meals served, but by how effectively and rapidly residents transition into permanent housing. This model would demonstrate that emergency shelter, when properly designed and operated, can be a genuine catalyst for transformation rather than just a temporary refuge.
Each smart pod would be equipped with free Wi-Fi access, recognizing internet connectivity as an essential tool for completing education, searching for jobs and maintaining social connections. The facilities would offer comprehensive life-skills training programs covering financial literacy, cooking and nutrition, household management and interpersonal communication. These practical skills, combined with the dignity of private space and reliable internet access, would create a foundation for lasting independence. By providing both the physical infrastructure and educational resources needed for success, the City has expressed interest in testing the Holistic Shelter idea as a pilot. If successful, Holistic Shelters would offer a concrete path out of homelessness rather than just temporary relief.
The future of homeless services lies in a fundamental transformation of the current system. Forward-thinking shelter providers are now diversifying their approach, expanding into housing development and focusing on permanent solutions rather than just temporary shelter. They recognize that success must be measured by concrete outcomes: permanent housing placements, long-term stability rates, employment levels and improved quality of life for formerly homeless individuals. Critical to this transformation is the integration of voices with lived experience. Their insights are essential not only for creating effective housing solutions but for ensuring that the exploitative practices of poverty pimping become relics of the past. The goal isn’t simply to build homes — it’s to build people and strengthen communities.
While emergency shelters will always serve a necessary function, forward-thinking shelter providers are working to make stays there as brief and rare as possible. Their goal isn’t just to provide temporary refuge, but to help people break free from cycles of poverty and build sustainable, independent lives. This evolution requires courage — both from providers willing to question their role within the shelter industrial complex and from government officials ready to reform policies that perpetuate homelessness. Through embracing zoning reform, innovative housing models and metrics focused on housing outcomes, we can create a system that truly serves those in need rather than those who profit from their poverty.
The solution to homelessness has always been homes. It’s time for our policies and practices to reflect this simple truth.