Veterans Protected Our Country. We Must Protect Their Right to Housing.

When I finished serving in the U.S. Army and started working with veterans through the public housing authority in Kansas in 2012, I met men and women who had worn the uniform but were now sleeping in cars, on couches or in shelters. They were proud, resilient and deeply resourceful, but without stable housing, their lives had unraveled. Addiction, mental health struggles and unemployment followed them like shadows.
I saw the difference when they were handed a set of keys. Once they had a door they could lock and a place where they felt safe, they started showing up for medical appointments, reestablishing relationships and looking for work. They became, in every sense, good neighbors.
That transformation was not accidental. It happened thanks to a national policy adopted 13 years ago called Housing First, pioneered by Sam Tsemberis and his nonprofit Pathways to Housing. The principle is simple: Get people into housing without requiring sobriety, employment or treatment as prerequisites, and then connect them to voluntary services like counseling or job training so they can rebuild their lives.
The results have been stunning: Since the Department of Veterans Affairs adopted Housing First, homelessness among veterans has fallen by more than 55% nationwide compared to 2010. That improvement is even more impressive considering that homelessness in the general population has risen 19% between 2007 and 2024, according to the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development. Programs such as HUD’s Veterans Affairs Supportive Housing, which pairs housing vouchers with case management, are widely credited.
This success story is now under threat. In July, President Donald Trump issued an executive order directing federal agencies to move away from the Housing First policy and to cut funding for its programs – potentially including HUD’s vouchers and case managers for veterans – claiming the policy “fail[s] to promote treatment, recovery and self-sufficiency.” His order seeks to leverage housing as a reward for sobriety, instead of recognizing that housing is actually a foundation and often a prerequisite for recovery.
Though veterans are not singled out in the order, they are at the center of the nation’s homelessness crisis. More than 5% – or nearly 33,000 – of unhoused American adults are veterans, according to the most recent federal count. To weaken the very programs that have cut homelessness in half among veterans is not only shortsighted, it is dangerous.
The risk is twofold. First, veterans already in housing could lose stability if new conditions are imposed, such as sobriety requirements and mandated mental health care. Second, those still on the margins may stop seeking help if sobriety or treatment become prerequisites.
The Housing First approach succeeds because it builds trust. Eroding that trust means more veterans will remain outside the system, and more will cycle between homelessness, jails and emergency rooms.
Critics of Housing First argue that it allows people to “retreat” into addiction behind closed doors. But plenty of research shows that people are more likely to achieve sobriety and mental health stability once they are safely housed. A RAND Corporation study found that Housing First improved housing stability without worsening substance use outcomes. In total, since FY 2022, the VA permanently housed nearly 134,000 homeless Veterans. As of 2025, 92,000 veterans are using HUD vouchers to rent accommodations.
Despite this track record of success, HUD’s program to house veterans is at risk. The White House has said the president “cares deeply about our veterans.” If so, the administration needs to put its money where its mouth is by protecting one of our most successful programs for veterans.
This is not a partisan issue. Housing First has roots in the George W. Bush administration, was expanded under President Barack Obama and continued during Trump’s first term. In 2018, Trump’s then-HUD Secretary Ben Carson praised progress reducing veteran homelessness, noting that the nation owes former servicepeople “a place to call home.”
So, what’s changed? Certainly not the outcomes.
Housing First has been embraced across the political spectrum because it works. It reduces costs to taxpayers by decreasing reliance on emergency rooms and jails. It restores dignity and safety to people who have already sacrificed so much.
In my community of Manhattan, Kansas – home to Fort Riley’s first Infantry Division – we see dozens of soldiers transition to civilian life every year. Some carry visible wounds, others carry invisible ones. Without stable housing, the risk of spiraling into crisis is high. The least we can do for those who served is ensure that a lack of housing is not another battle they must fight.
The question isn’t whether Housing First works – it does. The question is whether we have the courage to keep using what works, even when politics change. For veterans who’ve already given so much, the answer should be simple: Housing comes first, always.
Aaron Estabrook, a former U.S. Army sergeant who was deployed to Afghanistan in 2009, is the executive director of the Manhattan Housing Authority in Manhattan, Kansas. He has helped lead efforts to expand affordable housing and Housing First programs that have reduced veteran homelessness nationwide.