When Los Angeles County Supervisor Lindsey Horvath abruptly canceled plans for a 49-bed interim housing project in Santa Monica earlier this month, the decision appeared to mark another victory for Westside homeowners opposed to homeless housing in their neighborhoods. But it also signals something larger: that Horvath, widely rumored to be considering a 2026 run for Los Angeles mayor, is following the same cautious political instincts that have come to define Mayor Karen Bass.

The Ocean Avenue project, funded through the state’s Proposition 1 Behavioral Health Bridge Housing program, would have transformed two vacant senior-care buildings into supportive housing for people with serious mental illness. The facilities would have been operated by St. Joseph Center, one of the region’s most established service providers, and staffed around the clock with clinicians, case managers, and security. Fifteen of the 49 beds were specifically allocated for Santa Monica residents. The project required no city money, only state funds already designated for Westside housing.

Residents in the North of Montana neighborhood began organizing against the plan almost as soon as it became public. They circulated petitions, packed city meetings, and complained about the lack of notice from the county. Within weeks, Horvath paused the project and then canceled it altogether, saying she wanted more transparency and community input. She also ordered county staff to find another location for the same services elsewhere on the Westside.

The move echoed the leadership pattern that has dogged Mayor Bass in Los Angeles. Since taking office, Bass has repeatedly backed away from projects or policies in the face of neighborhood opposition, particularly from affluent homeowners on the Westside. Her Inside Safe initiative began as a sweeping plan to move people indoors but has since narrowed to a series of small operations shaped by local political constraints. She declined to intervene when Councilmember Traci Park froze the Venice Dell Community Housing Project, a 120-unit fully affordable development near the canals that had already cleared every regulatory hurdle. She has tiptoed around housing reforms like SB 79 and pushed state legislators to gut Measure ULA, the voter-approved “mansion tax” that funds affordable housing and tenant protections, even as wealthy property owners attack it in court.

Bass often says she does not want to “force things down neighborhoods’ throats.” The result, however, has been a form of leadership that prizes consensus over conviction and allows neighborhood veto power to block public good. Horvath’s handling of the Ocean Avenue project now fits squarely within that mold. As a county supervisor, she is responsible not just to Santa Monica but to millions of residents across Los Angeles County. Yet when confronted by backlash from some of the wealthiest homeowners in her district, she chose to retreat rather than explain why the project was urgently needed.

The irony is that Santa Monica’s own City Council voted unanimously in support of Proposition 1, the very measure funding the canceled project. Councilmembers praised it as a historic investment in mental health housing and services. How can local and county leaders vote for these programs and then reject them when they come to their own neighborhoods?

County records show the Ocean Avenue project was designed with extensive safeguards: curfews, security cameras, 24-hour staffing, and screening to exclude high-risk individuals. It would have offered services that many Westside residents say they want, including mental health care, substance use treatment, and pathways to permanent housing, but at a scale small enough to blend into the community. The decision to cancel it will not reduce the demand for services. It only ensures that the most visible crisis on the Westside continues to play out on sidewalks, beaches, and underpasses.

Horvath’s office insists that the funding will stay on the Westside and that an alternative site will be identified. But the message her decision sends is clear. Vocal opposition from an organized, affluent minority can still override countywide priorities. In a moment when Los Angeles needs leaders willing to face down NIMBY resistance, Horvath’s retreat feels less like caution and more like calculation.