California Bleeds Taxpayers—Is Newsom’s Progressive Gamble Failing?

Paul Riverbank, 11/27/2025California's taxpayers are fleeing to states like Florida and Texas, driven by high taxes and living costs. Governor Newsom faces increasing criticism as the state's economic challenges threaten public services and civic confidence. Will California adapt, or will its exodus continue?

For every 60 seconds that tick by, the IRS tells us, another Californian taxpayer moves out. Florida, Texas, North Carolina—these aren’t just random picks from a list, but the destinations people mention at backyard barbecues or in the aisles of hardware stores as they plot what feels a little like a modern-day gold rush, only in reverse. There’s a distinct pull: Florida’s zero state income tax, for example, is luring many who, weary of the so-called ‘sunshine tax’ in California, are opting for a different sort of brightness.

Of course, it isn’t one policy or one moment nudging people out the door. High earners especially point to California’s 13.3% top income tax as proof things have tipped too far. But when you add in the everyday cost of living—groceries, gas, housing—many middle-income families feel squeezed every month. The sense, not just of financial strain but of a certain disquiet, keeps cropping up. It’s not unusual for residents to cite crime or a feeling that the basic order of city streets is slipping.

Meanwhile, layoffs haven’t helped. Late last year, nearly 160,000 California workers faced job cuts—only New York reported more. The headlines are jarring, but the ripple effect in local coffee shops, schools, and small business payrolls can’t be dismissed as just numbers in a government release. When that many people are out of work, communities start to notice the difference fast.

Beyond the dollars and census counts, there’s the quieter, more consequential loss: money that should have funded school districts, hospitals, and basic services that everyone relies on. Each resident who leaves takes with them not just a U-Haul or new hopes, but a slice of the revenue California counts on—revenues earmarked for Medi-Cal, school meals, and dozens of small, unseen public goods.

The pandemic may have lit the fuse, but the exodus has momentum now. Florida’s budget writers, meanwhile, have reason to cheer. The state is welcoming waves of new arrivals, and it’s estimated they’re bringing in over $4 billion to state coffers—a healthy windfall that has real effects on infrastructure, schools, and police departments. The contrast in fiscal philosophy between California and these destination states isn’t subtle, and neither are the economic results.

The debate in Sacramento has moved well beyond spreadsheets and legislative hearings. Governor Gavin Newsom, a fixture in the national political conversation now, finds himself at the intersection of defense and critique. He issues warnings about broad national risks—linking state policies to fights over the future of democracy—but, for plenty of Californians, those words can ring hollow when daily reality includes high rents, pink slips, and rising grocery receipts.

It’s hard not to notice how partisans on either side use the numbers, sometimes playing a sort of statistical tug-of-war—twisting migration trends to fit whatever policy argument is up for debate. Political memes outpace policy memos, and even in Congress, straightforward charts about tax flight end up reframed for television or social media clips, each side aiming for the best soundbite. The phrase “statistical yoga” feels apt when watching how quickly raw data gets bent into political messages.

Amid all this, I’m reminded of what makes these state-level shifts more than just accounting exercises. When opportunity starts to feel like a fading promise, it’s not just the balance sheets that are at risk, but a larger civic confidence. I’ve spoken to small business owners who no longer see a future in their own communities, teachers reconsidering whether their salaries are enough, young families trying to guess whether their kids will find jobs here ten years from now.

Californians—those staying and those leaving—are quietly asking the questions that rarely make headlines: Is this only a temporary response to some economic turbulence, or is it a realignment in where Americans want to build their lives? Will Sacramento adapt, change course, or double down on policies seen by critics as out of touch? Or will the line of U-Haul rentals be the most reliable indicator of all of which way the wind is blowing?

No single column or pundit can fully capture what’s at stake here. But in the end, whether you’re watching from a city council meeting in Fresno or from a traffic jam on I-95 in Miami, it’s clear that the choices California makes now—how honestly leaders confront the departures, and whether they act—will have effects that echo well beyond state borders. The next chapters aren’t written yet, but one thing’s obvious: as California goes, much of America tends to follow.

California isn’t just losing residents—the state’s shedding taxpayers at a pace that’s tough to miss. The numbers are telling, but walk the streets of Los Angeles or San Francisco long enough and you’ll hear the story in casual conversations, job listings, even the new ‘For Sale’ signs piling up in neighborhoods that, until recently, barely saw a vacant home.For every 60 seconds that tick by, the IRS tells us, another Californian taxpayer moves out. Florida, Texas, North Carolina—these aren’t just random picks from a list, but the destinations people mention at backyard barbecues or in the aisles of hardware stores as they plot what feels a little like a modern-day gold rush, only in reverse. There’s a distinct pull: Florida’s zero state income tax, for example, is luring many who, weary of the so-called ‘sunshine tax’ in California, are opting for a different sort of brightness.Of course, it isn’t one policy or one moment nudging people out the door. High earners especially point to California’s 13.3% top income tax as proof things have tipped too far. But when you add in the everyday cost of living—groceries, gas, housing—many middle-income families feel squeezed every month. The sense, not just of financial strain but of a certain disquiet, keeps cropping up. It’s not unusual for residents to cite crime or a feeling that the basic order of city streets is slipping.Meanwhile, layoffs haven’t helped. Late last year, nearly 160,000 California workers faced job cuts—only New York reported more. The headlines are jarring, but the ripple effect in local coffee shops, schools, and small business payrolls can’t be dismissed as just numbers in a government release. When that many people are out of work, communities start to notice the difference fast.Beyond the dollars and census counts, there’s the quieter, more consequential loss: money that should have funded school districts, hospitals, and basic services that everyone relies on. Each resident who leaves takes with them not just a U-Haul or new hopes, but a slice of the revenue California counts on—revenues earmarked for Medi-Cal, school meals, and dozens of small, unseen public goods.The pandemic may have lit the fuse, but the exodus has momentum now. Florida’s budget writers, meanwhile, have reason to cheer. The state is welcoming waves of new arrivals, and it’s estimated they’re bringing in over $4 billion to state coffers—a healthy windfall that has real effects on infrastructure, schools, and police departments. The contrast in fiscal philosophy between California and these destination states isn’t subtle, and neither are the economic results.The debate in Sacramento has moved well beyond spreadsheets and legislative hearings. Governor Gavin Newsom, a fixture in the national political conversation now, finds himself at the intersection of defense and critique. He issues warnings about broad national risks—linking state policies to fights over the future of democracy—but, for plenty of Californians, those words can ring hollow when daily reality includes high rents, pink slips, and rising grocery receipts.It’s hard not to notice how partisans on either side use the numbers, sometimes playing a sort of statistical tug-of-war—twisting migration trends to fit whatever policy argument is up for debate. Political memes outpace policy memos, and even in Congress, straightforward charts about tax flight end up reframed for television or social media clips, each side aiming for the best soundbite. The phrase “statistical yoga” feels apt when watching how quickly raw data gets bent into political messages.Amid all this, I’m reminded of what makes these state-level shifts more than just accounting exercises. When opportunity starts to feel like a fading promise, it’s not just the balance sheets that are at risk, but a larger civic confidence. I’ve spoken to small business owners who no longer see a future in their own communities, teachers reconsidering whether their salaries are enough, young families trying to guess whether their kids will find jobs here ten years from now.Californians—those staying and those leaving—are quietly asking the questions that rarely make headlines: Is this only a temporary response to some economic turbulence, or is it a realignment in where Americans want to build their lives? Will Sacramento adapt, change course, or double down on policies seen by critics as out of touch? Or will the line of U-Haul rentals be the most reliable indicator of all of which way the wind is blowing?No single column or pundit can fully capture what’s at stake here. But in the end, whether you’re watching from a city council meeting in Fresno or from a traffic jam on I-95 in Miami, it’s clear that the choices California makes now—how honestly leaders confront the departures, and whether they act—will have effects that echo well beyond state borders. The next chapters aren’t written yet, but one thing’s obvious: as California goes, much of America tends to follow.