Florida's Digital Notice Bill Quietly Gives Landlords More Power Over Renters

Florida stands on the edge of opportunity, with a slate of bills landing on Governor Ron DeSantis’s desk that could reshape lives. From fentanyl testing to protections for surrendered infants, these measures touch on urgent crises tearing at the state’s social fabric. Yet, as the deadline for action looms, the proposals feel like half-steps, cautious moves that nibble at the edges of problems rather than confronting them head-on. For those who believe in a government that lifts up the vulnerable, this moment demands more than incrementalism.

Take the fentanyl crisis, a scourge claiming lives across Florida’s cities and small towns. The bill to expand fentanyl testing, CS/HB 1195, promises to equip communities with tools to detect this lethal synthetic opioid. It’s a start, but it’s not enough. Public health advocates have long called for comprehensive strategies—harm reduction, treatment access, and education—that prioritize saving lives over punishing users. Florida’s approach, while practical, risks missing the forest for the trees, leaving too many to fend for themselves in a deadly epidemic.

Then there’s the bill on surrendered infants, CS/CS/HB 791, which aims to strengthen Safe Haven laws. These laws allow parents in crisis to leave newborns at designated sites without fear of prosecution, a lifeline for both infants and desperate families. But without robust outreach and support for struggling parents, the measure feels like a bandage on a deeper wound. Poverty, mental health struggles, and social isolation drive abandonment—issues Florida’s legislature seems reluctant to tackle with the urgency they deserve.

At its core, this legislative package reveals a troubling truth: Florida’s priorities lean toward procedural fixes over transformative change. For those who envision a state where every life is valued, these bills are a call to demand better, to push for policies that don’t just manage crises but prevent them.

The fentanyl crisis is a public health emergency that demands bold, compassionate action. In 2024, synthetic opioids like fentanyl were linked to over 70% of opioid-related deaths nationwide, and Florida is no exception. CS/HB 1195’s focus on fentanyl testing strips is a pragmatic step, allowing users to check drugs for deadly contaminants. But testing alone doesn’t address the root causes of addiction or the barriers to recovery. Advocates for harm reduction, like those at the National Harm Reduction Coalition, argue for supervised consumption sites, expanded naloxone distribution, and medication-assisted treatment—proven strategies that save lives.

Florida’s bill feels like a nod to progress without the commitment to scale it. Compare this to cities like Philadelphia, where mobile units deliver naloxone and connect users to care, or Vancouver, where supervised consumption sites have slashed overdose deaths. Florida’s approach, by contrast, risks leaving rural communities and low-income neighborhoods behind, where access to testing strips or treatment remains a pipe dream. The state’s failure to pair testing with broader reforms echoes a troubling pattern: prioritizing optics over outcomes.

Opponents of harm reduction often argue that such measures enable drug use, but this view ignores the evidence. Studies from 2023 show that harm reduction lowers overdose rates and connects users to treatment without increasing substance use. Florida’s leaders have a choice: embrace data-driven solutions or cling to outdated stigmas that cost lives. For those who value human dignity, the path forward is clear.

The expansion of Safe Haven laws through CS/CS/HB 791 is a step toward protecting Florida’s most vulnerable—newborns left by parents in crisis. Since Texas pioneered these laws in 1999, nearly 5,000 infants nationwide have been safely surrendered, including 106 in 2024 alone. Florida’s updates, which strengthen protections for surrender sites and streamline processes, aim to prevent tragedies like the 22 infant deaths from unsafe abandonment in 2021. Yet, the bill’s focus on logistics misses a critical piece: prevention.

Child welfare experts, including the National Safe Haven Alliance, emphasize that abandonment stems from desperation—poverty, untreated mental health issues, or lack of support. New Mexico’s 2025 reforms, for instance, pair Safe Haven expansions with crisis hotlines and resource referrals, addressing the root causes. Florida’s bill, while well-intentioned, stops short of funding community-based services or public awareness campaigns that could reach parents before they reach a breaking point. Without these, Safe Havens remain a last resort rather than a true safety net.

Some argue that Safe Haven laws encourage irresponsible parenting, but this critique overlooks the reality of systemic failures. Parents who surrender infants are often alone, without options. Strengthening families through economic aid, mental health care, and adoption access would do more to prevent abandonment than any drop-off site. Florida’s leaders must see beyond the immediate fix and invest in a future where no parent feels forced to let go.

CS/CS/CS/HB 615, which allows electronic delivery of notices between landlords and tenants, is pitched as a modernizing move. Digital communication can streamline processes, sure, but it also risks tilting the scales further against tenants in a state already grappling with a housing crisis. In 2024, Florida’s skyrocketing rents and eviction rates left countless families on edge. Electronic notices, without robust protections, could make it easier for landlords to issue demands or eviction warnings, leaving tenants scrambling to respond.

Tenant advocates, like those at the Florida Housing Justice Alliance, warn that digital systems often favor those with resources—landlords with legal teams, not renters juggling multiple jobs. Not every tenant has reliable internet or a smartphone, and glitches in digital platforms can lead to missed notices and unjust evictions. States like California have paired digital reforms with strict oversight and tenant protections, ensuring fairness. Florida’s bill, by contrast, feels like a gift to property owners, with little regard for the power imbalances at play.

Landlords may argue that digital notices cut costs and improve efficiency, but efficiency for whom? Without guarantees of accessibility or clear recourse for tenants, this reform threatens to deepen housing insecurity. For those who believe housing is a right, not a privilege, Florida’s approach is a stark reminder of whose interests the state prioritizes.

As Governor DeSantis weighs these bills, Floridians deserve policies that match the scale of their challenges. The fentanyl crisis, infant abandonment, and housing insecurity aren’t abstract issues—they’re lived realities for countless families. CS/HB 1195, CS/CS/HB 791, and CS/CS/CS/HB 615 offer glimpses of progress, but they fall short of the transformative change needed to build a state where everyone has a fair shot. Public health must trump punishment, prevention must outrank reaction, and fairness must guide reform.

The choice is stark: Florida can settle for small fixes or seize this moment to lead with compassion and vision. For those who believe in a government that serves its people, the fight is far from over. It’s time to demand policies that don’t just patch holes but rebuild lives, ensuring no one is left behind in the Sunshine State.