Newsom’s California: 1 Taxpayer Flees Every Minute as Wealth Vanishes

Paul Riverbank, 11/27/2025California’s shrinking tax base drives families out, fuels budget woes, and raises law enforcement challenges.

Not so long ago, the Golden State stood as a magnet for folks in search of something bigger—innovation, sunshine, a shot at better living. Fast forward to today, and folks from Santa Clarita to San Jose are facing a steep cost of living, property taxes that sting, and a top income tax rate nobody envies. The effect is more than just a few gripes on Facebook. In cities like Sacramento, lawmakers can read the writing on the wall—financial and human capital isn’t just strolling out, it’s pouring out. IRS reports refer to this as a “brutal indictment,” but for the families making tough decisions, it’s about more than policy.

Take Florida, for example. Not only does its weather compete with California’s, but it’s also cashing in on a windfall, poised to pull in an additional $4 billion each year as former Californians unpack and settle in. Other hotspots? Texas and North Carolina show similar spikes, and their lawmakers are more than happy to roll out the red carpet. The implications stretch deeper than sunny real estate ads. With every moving van bound for Austin or Charlotte, California’s tax base thins, and projects from public health to schools feel the pinch.

Look closer and the picture sharpens further. In recent months, nearly 159,000 Californians got word their jobs were vanishing—the second-largest layoff wave in America. The result? Lines grow outside U-Hauls, apartment complexes book exit appointments, and questions about Sacramento’s approach multiply. The ordinary Californian knows all too well how hard it is to stretch a paycheck when the tax bite keeps growing. Anecdotes become data: most cite opportunity, safety, and a chance to actually keep what you earn as motives for their goodbyes.

The choices aren’t made lightly. Despite its challenges, California retains a cultural pull; this is the state that gave us Silicon Valley and Hollywood, after all. But as more people point to rising crime, sprawling bureaucracy, and bills that never seem to shrink, the trickle turns to a steady flow out.

On another front—south along the border or across field offices in Texas—a different kind of pressure mounts. Immigration and Customs Enforcement teams now operate in an environment that can swing from tense to volatile in a heartbeat. It’s a reality ICE agents in Houston and Dallas don’t sugarcoat. “Every day, you don’t know what’s coming,” said Tom Persad, who’s worked the Houston office for nearly a decade. News stories and social media spin can turbocharge misunderstandings, and according to officers, that sometimes translates into outright hostility.

“We go after predators and serious criminals,” Persad adds. “Not families stepping out for groceries.” The distinction often gets lost outside these field office walls, and resistance has grown—occasionally with dangerous consequences.

Official numbers out of the Department of Homeland Security make for sobering reading: death threats directed at ICE staff have surged in ways hard to imagine a decade ago—by a jaw-dropping 8,000%, according to Assistant Secretary Tricia McLaughlin. Staff now watch for doxxing online and, disturbingly, have heard whispers of bounties on their heads. Last winter, a team in Virginia intercepted plans for a thwarted ambush targeting federal officers.

For lawmakers and officers alike, it’s a fraught climate. McLaughlin points to campaign rhetoric and protests against immigration enforcement as fuel for a wider distrust. On the ground, ICE teams say all they can do is stick to their charge—removing violent criminals, not targeting entire communities. Still, the lines blur, and soundbites quickly outpace the longer story.

Back in California, Sacramento leaders can’t ignore the steady click of departure. Each leaving taxpayer chips away at revenue supporting schools, public safety, and core social programs. Critics have long warned that the state’s gold-plated tax regime was unsustainable. Now, for the first time in living memory, the math is more than theoretical. Fewer people, fewer dollars, and a growing list of obligations.

If there’s a through line, it’s the relentless search for stability and equity—whether that means trading oceans for oak trees in North Carolina or donning a badge in a fraught political climate. In both storylines, the American appetite for opportunity and security keeps shifting the map. The numbers don’t waver, but the meaning behind each move—the one family driving out, or the agent bracing for another unpredictable shift—remains as personal as it is political. In today’s America, the routes out are rarely straight, and the questions facing our communities only grow more urgent, one choice at a time.

It’s just after noon somewhere along I-5 and another family’s minivan edges past the city limits, back seats stacked with moving boxes. The scenario repeats countless times—according to the latest numbers, one Californian taxpayer packs up and drives off, every sixty seconds. If you scan the IRS data, as the National Taxpayers Union Foundation recently did, the pattern leaps out: California is no longer the destination it once was.Not so long ago, the Golden State stood as a magnet for folks in search of something bigger—innovation, sunshine, a shot at better living. Fast forward to today, and folks from Santa Clarita to San Jose are facing a steep cost of living, property taxes that sting, and a top income tax rate nobody envies. The effect is more than just a few gripes on Facebook. In cities like Sacramento, lawmakers can read the writing on the wall—financial and human capital isn’t just strolling out, it’s pouring out. IRS reports refer to this as a “brutal indictment,” but for the families making tough decisions, it’s about more than policy.Take Florida, for example. Not only does its weather compete with California’s, but it’s also cashing in on a windfall, poised to pull in an additional $4 billion each year as former Californians unpack and settle in. Other hotspots? Texas and North Carolina show similar spikes, and their lawmakers are more than happy to roll out the red carpet. The implications stretch deeper than sunny real estate ads. With every moving van bound for Austin or Charlotte, California’s tax base thins, and projects from public health to schools feel the pinch.Look closer and the picture sharpens further. In recent months, nearly 159,000 Californians got word their jobs were vanishing—the second-largest layoff wave in America. The result? Lines grow outside U-Hauls, apartment complexes book exit appointments, and questions about Sacramento’s approach multiply. The ordinary Californian knows all too well how hard it is to stretch a paycheck when the tax bite keeps growing. Anecdotes become data: most cite opportunity, safety, and a chance to actually keep what you earn as motives for their goodbyes.The choices aren’t made lightly. Despite its challenges, California retains a cultural pull; this is the state that gave us Silicon Valley and Hollywood, after all. But as more people point to rising crime, sprawling bureaucracy, and bills that never seem to shrink, the trickle turns to a steady flow out.On another front—south along the border or across field offices in Texas—a different kind of pressure mounts. Immigration and Customs Enforcement teams now operate in an environment that can swing from tense to volatile in a heartbeat. It’s a reality ICE agents in Houston and Dallas don’t sugarcoat. “Every day, you don’t know what’s coming,” said Tom Persad, who’s worked the Houston office for nearly a decade. News stories and social media spin can turbocharge misunderstandings, and according to officers, that sometimes translates into outright hostility.“We go after predators and serious criminals,” Persad adds. “Not families stepping out for groceries.” The distinction often gets lost outside these field office walls, and resistance has grown—occasionally with dangerous consequences.Official numbers out of the Department of Homeland Security make for sobering reading: death threats directed at ICE staff have surged in ways hard to imagine a decade ago—by a jaw-dropping 8,000%, according to Assistant Secretary Tricia McLaughlin. Staff now watch for doxxing online and, disturbingly, have heard whispers of bounties on their heads. Last winter, a team in Virginia intercepted plans for a thwarted ambush targeting federal officers.For lawmakers and officers alike, it’s a fraught climate. McLaughlin points to campaign rhetoric and protests against immigration enforcement as fuel for a wider distrust. On the ground, ICE teams say all they can do is stick to their charge—removing violent criminals, not targeting entire communities. Still, the lines blur, and soundbites quickly outpace the longer story.Back in California, Sacramento leaders can’t ignore the steady click of departure. Each leaving taxpayer chips away at revenue supporting schools, public safety, and core social programs. Critics have long warned that the state’s gold-plated tax regime was unsustainable. Now, for the first time in living memory, the math is more than theoretical. Fewer people, fewer dollars, and a growing list of obligations.If there’s a through line, it’s the relentless search for stability and equity—whether that means trading oceans for oak trees in North Carolina or donning a badge in a fraught political climate. In both storylines, the American appetite for opportunity and security keeps shifting the map. The numbers don’t waver, but the meaning behind each move—the one family driving out, or the agent bracing for another unpredictable shift—remains as personal as it is political. In today’s America, the routes out are rarely straight, and the questions facing our communities only grow more urgent, one choice at a time.