The Anti-California

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In 2015, a physical therapist named Nathan Dugan moved to Whitefish, Montana, and fell in love with the place. How could you not? The glaciers, the pine air, the small-town feel. Whitefish was always expensive: When he first got there, Dugan camped on and off for a month before he found an affordable home. But it got far more expensive during the pandemic, when wealthy retirees and digital nomads flooded the tiny town’s tiny housing market. Out-of-staters were making cash offers on homes, sight unseen. Airbnbs started going for Bay Area prices. Rentals dried up. This has become a familiar story across America, where the housing crisis has gotten so severe that even rural communities in northern Montana are feeling the pinch.

Here’s another familiar story: Seeking to capitalize on the real-estate gold rush, a developer proposed building a just north of downtown, on their support from local nonprofits if city officials did not . Nearly 200 people showed up at a , one of several, to argue about, and mostly against, the project: It would look too tall, pollute the lake, pollute the night sky with light, change the neighborhood’s character, stress the community’s schools and medical services, destroy wildlife habitats, and increase traffic, which would interrupt snow plows and endanger families fleeing from forest fires. The town rejected the proposal.