Every community in California is grappling with substance use disorder. Families feel it. Employers feel it. Local governments feel it. And everywhere you look, officials are searching for solutions that actually work.
One of those solutions already exists: sober living and recovery residences.
These homes are not treatment centers. They are not institutions. They are ordinary houses where people in recovery live together, support one another, and work to rebuild their lives. Yet across California – and increasingly in the Central Valley – sober living homes are being targeted by local enforcement actions rooted in a basic misunderstanding of the law.
The most common claim is that recovery residences are limited to “six beds.”
That claim is simply wrong.
California law does reference six residents, but only in very specific circumstances involving licensed treatment facilities. Those statutes were written to protect small licensed programs from being zoned out of residential neighborhoods. They were never intended to create a population cap on ordinary homes, and they do not apply to non-licensed sober living or recovery residences.
Conflating licensed treatment facilities with recovery housing has led to enforcement overreach that harms people in recovery and exposes local governments to serious legal risk.
Sober living homes are housing. They do not provide counseling, treatment, or clinical services. Residents seek those services off-site, just like anyone else managing a health condition. The homes themselves operate as households, with shared meals, shared responsibilities, and mutual accountability.
And there’s another piece of this that is crucial: quality and accountability in recovery housing are not a mystery. The National Alliance for Recovery Residences (NARR) has established nationally recognized standards that define what ethical, safe, well-run recovery housing looks like – centered on an abstinent living environment, a social model of recovery, resident rights, good neighbor practices, and operator ethics.
These standards are widely used across the country to distinguish legitimate recovery residences from bad actors – and they give communities a responsible framework to support recovery housing without discriminating against it.
California lawmakers have also recognized the need for clear standards and consumer protections in this space. Nearly a decade ago, AB 2255 proposed a certification framework for drug- and alcohol-free residences. Later, AB 285 – introduced by Republican Assemblywoman Melissa Melendez – again sought to establish a state-recognized certification structure for recovery residences. While these bills did not become law, they demonstrate that California has long recognized the importance of accountability in recovery housing without redefining it as treatment or zoning it out of existence.
California courts settled this issue decades ago. The California Supreme Court has made clear that local governments may not impose arbitrary limits on how many unrelated adults can live together as a household. What matters is how a household functions, not whether its members are related by blood or marriage. Recovery residences easily meet that standard.
Federal law reinforces this point even more strongly. People in recovery from substance use disorder are protected under the Fair Housing Act and the Americans with Disabilities Act. Local governments may not single out people with disabilities for different or harsher housing rules. Cities cannot say, “Large families are allowed, but people in recovery are not.” That is discrimination, and the law is clear about it.
The California Department of Housing and Community Development has repeatedly reinforced this guidance. Housing for people with disabilities – including those in recovery – must be treated the same as any other housing. Zoning and land-use authority cannot be used as a workaround to exclude people a community finds uncomfortable or inconvenient.
This does not mean sober living homes are exempt from regulation. They must comply with building codes, fire and life-safety standards, and nuisance laws just like any other home. What they cannot be subjected to are special restrictions imposed solely because of who lives there.
When communities push recovery housing out, the consequences are predictable. Relapse rates go up. Homelessness increases. Emergency rooms and jails absorb the impact. Taxpayers end up paying far more for crisis response than they would for stable housing that supports recovery.
Sober living homes are not the problem. They are part of the solution. They reduce strain on public systems, support long-term recovery, and strengthen neighborhoods by helping people return to work, reconnect with family, and become contributing members of the community.
If we are serious about addressing substance use disorder, we need to stop treating recovery as a zoning violation. Recovery begins with a safe place to live – and the law is clear: people in recovery have the same right to housing as everyone else.
