Rental Registries Are WRONG. Let’s Do Something About It.
The city of Clearlake, CA just passed a new rental registry and inspection ordinance. My own city, Columbus, is dangerously close to doing the same. These laws are quietly spreading like a virus… if we don’t push back, they’ll infect everything.
On the surface, these programs sound harmless. Reasonable, even. Who wouldn’t want to protect renters and make sure housing is safe?
But that’s the bait.
What starts as a $40 “inspection fee” quickly snowballs into annual registrations, re-inspections, self-certifications, fines, and surprise visits from clipboard-wielding city officials. (Ask me how I know.)
And it’s always “just one city” (until it isn’t). Suddenl,y you’re juggling five overlapping registries, three different compliance portals, and a stack of meaningless certificates proving your rentals aren’t deathtraps.
Meanwhile, owner-occupied homes (some in far worse shape) sit untouched.
These laws chip away at property rights under the banner of tenant protection. It’s regulatory theater, and landlords are footing the bill.
Worst of all? These aren’t just theoretical concerns. Let’s take a look at what’s actually happening on the ground, starting with Clearlake, CA.
How Rental Registries Actually Work (And Why They’re a Problem)
Clearlake recently passed a rental registry and inspection ordinance that had been dormant since 2008. The stated goal? Prevent tragedies like the one in 2019, when a tenant and his four dogs died of carbon monoxide poisoning in a substandard unit.
So the city got to work. They hired a building inspector, drafted a checklist, built an online registration portal, and promised inspections of 3,000 rental units, on a three-year rotation. That’s roughly 1,000 inspections a year, every year.
Good luck with that.
The first real test didn’t inspire much confidence: the inspector flagged exposed metal in burned electrical outlets, a broken window with glass shards still in place, poor ventilation, missing garbage bins, and a rotting exterior staircase. That’s just one of three units. It took over an hour, and that was a partially complete inspection.
It’s not that issues like these don’t matter. Of course they do. But these laws aren’t targeted scalpel interventions - they’re sledgehammers.
Even the local Realtors, who collaborated with city staff to revise the ordinance, expressed concern about unintended consequences: increased costs to landlords, higher rents, reduced rental supply, tenant displacement, and more lawsuits. One broker warned: “You’re about to get into the property management business.”
He’s not wrong.
Meanwhile, Associate Planner Michael Taylor struck an optimistic tone. “I think we’ve come to some kind of a consensus,” he said of the city’s work with the Realtors. The plan includes phased inspections, self-certification, and reinspection protocols - all built to scale.
But here’s the reality: city budgets are stretched, staffing is limited, and implementation rarely matches the brochure. These programs often duplicate enforcement that already exists at the county level. Worse, they make it harder for good landlords to operate, while the worst actors continue to slip through the cracks.
In theory, it’s about safety. In practice, it’s more bureaucracy (and more cost).
The Legal Angle: Uhrichsville’s Rental Fee Was Just Ruled an Illegal Tax
Let’s talk about what happens when landlords push back.
In Uhrichsville, Ohio, a city of about 5,000 people, the local government passed a rental registration ordinance back in 2020. It required all landlords to register their rental units annually and pay a fee: $25 at first, then $50 per unit per year. The stated purpose was to fund a code enforcement officer.
But landlords weren’t buying it. Two different ownership groups sued the city, arguing that the fee was essentially a tax, and more importantly, an illegal one.
In December 2024, Judge Elizabeth Thomakos ruled that the registration fee was unconstitutional. Her reasoning was simple and devastating: the city couldn’t prove the fee was being used exclusively to benefit landlords. In fact, she noted the “lack of services provided to landlords in exchange for the charge,” which, in her words, “suggests not a permissible fee.”
The court issued a permanent injunction. Uhrichsville is now prohibited from collecting future fees or prosecuting landlords who don’t register their properties.
Then it got bigger.
Earlier this year, the case was granted class-action status. At the time of filing, 209 landlords had joined the suit. And they’re not just asking for their money back. They’re seeking damages, interest, and attorney fees. One estimate puts the total repayment owed by the city between $90,000 and $100,000.
This isn’t just a local skirmish. It’s case law in motion.
If it can happen in Uhrichsville, it can happen in Columbus (where I own and operate a PM company). Or anywhere else these programs pop up.
For years, cities have quietly rolled out rental registries under the radar. Now, landlords are getting organized, filing lawsuits, and winning in court. The legal tide is turning.
And other cities should be paying close attention.
The Dangerous Logic of Rental Registries
Here’s the bigger problem: rental registries operate under a kind of “broken windows” logic, but applied to property rights. The theory is that if we ignore small infractions (like an unregistered unit or chipped paint), bigger problems will follow. So, the city steps in to “clean things up” before it gets worse.
But in practice, it doesn’t play out that way.
It starts with a one-time $50 fee. Then it becomes annual. Then there’s a reinspection charge. Then a portal you have to use. Then fines for failing to update tenant info. Then a required affidavit of compliance. Then a city inspector shows up unannounced and flags you for a cracked deck board.
And this isn’t hypothetical. This is exactly what’s happened in city after city.
Bureaucracy begets more bureaucracy. Once a system is in place, it grows. Staff get hired. Budgets expand. And eventually, the machine needs more input to justify its existence. That means more fees, more inspections, more administrative burden (and less focus on outcomes).
Tenant safety is the stated goal, but enforcement rarely aligns with that promise. The worst landlords, the ones with true slum conditions, often find ways to skirt the system. Meanwhile, responsible operators get bogged down in compliance.
It’s like hiring an extra TSA agent for every airplane crash. Feels good. Doesn’t help.
And once these systems are in place, they’re incredibly hard to unwind. Even if they don’t work, cities are reluctant to admit failure. Instead, they tweak the language, adjust the fees, and keep it moving.
This is why rental registries are so dangerous. Not because of what they are today, but because of what they pave the way for tomorrow.
What Happens If We Do Nothing
This isn’t just a paperwork problem. It’s a market distortion.
When you layer on more costs and compliance, smaller landlords start to opt out. They sell. They leave. And who steps in? Not the local mom-and-pop - the institutional buyer with deep pockets and a legal team.
That’s how you end up with fewer rental units, higher rents, and less flexibility for tenants.
The irony is that many of these policies are passed in the name of affordability and tenant protection. But they have the opposite effect. Supply shrinks. Costs rise. And the housing ecosystem tilts further toward big operators who can absorb the nonsense.
Meanwhile, local governments get a taste for the revenue, the data collection, the control. And once they’ve built the infrastructure, they’ll find more reasons to use it.
If you’re reading this and thinking “meh, won’t affect me,” that’s how they win.
The Way Forward: Fight Smart, Not Loud
If there’s a silver lining in all this, it’s that landlords are starting to wake up. Uhrichsville proved something important: you can fight back, and you can win.
But you have to be strategic.
The landlords in that case didn’t stage protests or flood city hall with angry calls. They built a clean legal argument, showed how the fees were being misused, and won in court. Now it’s a class-action with over 200 landlords. That’s real momentum.
This is the model. Document everything. Organize. Build local coalitions. When these laws pop up in your city, don’t just complain, coordinate.
Someone in Central Ohio should start pulling together affected landlords now. I’m in. Who else?
I’m not a lawyer. But I am a business owner who’s seen how this plays out. If you’re dealing with this in your city, reach out. Let’s compare notes and share strategies. This is one of those moments where silence equals consent.
Let’s not let these policies take root before we even realize what they cost us.