Across California, rural counties are under mounting strain. Persistent workforce shortages, aging infrastructure, rising costs, and limited access to healthcare and public services weigh heavily on these communities, all while they operate with far smaller tax bases than their urban counterparts. They are accustomed to doing more with less, stretching every dollar to maintain schools, keep roads safe, and provide essential services across vast geographic areas.
That fragile balance is becoming harder to sustain. When unexpected costs arise, especially those that are large, complex, and long-term, they cannot be easily absorbed. Instead, the effects ripple outward, impacting classrooms, public safety, and the basic services residents rely on every day.
It is in this context that the impacts of expanded liability tied to historical claims under AB 218 are being felt most acutely. While the law’s intent is to broaden access to justice for survivors of abuse, its financial consequences are exposing a widening divide between communities that can absorb these pressures and those that cannot.
Rural communities simply do not have the fiscal flexibility of larger urban areas. School districts are smaller, budgets are tighter, county resources are limited and margins for absorbing unexpected costs are thin. When a major claim is filed against a rural school district or county agency, the financial impact is not incremental. It can be existential.
In some cases, a single settlement can consume a significant share of a public agency’s annual budget. Leaders are then forced into impossible choices: cutting law enforcement or classroom support, closing libraries, deferring maintenance, or scaling back already limited public services. These are not abstract trade-offs. They directly affect students, families, safety-net programs and the basic functioning of communities already operating with fewer resources.
Compounding the challenge is the way rural agencies insure themselves. Most are too small to afford to self-insure their liability, so they rely on pooled insurance arrangements with other agencies. When a claim arises against one member, the financial impact is shared across the pool.
The Bass Lake Joint Union Elementary School District, for example, has been required to contribute to settlement payments despite having no abuse allegations involving its own employees. Like many small districts, Bass Lake participated in a joint powers authority (JPA) for liability coverage. Although it withdrew from that JPA more than 20 years ago, the district remains financially responsible for settlements tied to abuse claims that occurred during its period of membership. For Bass Lake, which serves only 800 students, these unexpected costs place a heavy strain on a small rural budget and can force difficult tradeoffs, including reductions in staffing.
The cost of settlements is only part of the challenge. Since the enactment of AB 218, insurance premiums for public agencies have risen sharply. For Madera County, premiums have increased from $1.09 million in FY 2019 to an estimated $5 million in FY 2027, an increase of nearly 360 percent and more than four and a half times the pre-AB 218 cost.
None of this diminishes the importance of AB 218’s core purpose. Survivors deserve justice, and institutions must be held accountable. Those principles are not in question.
But equity requires us to examine how laws operate in practice. A policy designed to expand access to justice should not unintentionally destabilize the very communities it touches, especially those already facing structural disadvantages.
Even AB 218’s author, former Assemblymember Lorena Gonzalez, has warned the law is being strained, citing “unscrupulous attorneys” and a potential “feeding frenzy.” Her concern is especially acute for rural counties, where limited tax bases leave little margin to absorb mounting claims. Justice must remain paramount, but without timely reforms and clear guardrails, rural public agencies face the risk of financial insolvency. The Legislature cannot afford to wait.
Rural communities are not asking to avoid accountability. They are asking for a path forward that reflects their reality, one that ensures justice for survivors without compromising the ability of local schools and governments to serve current students, residents and future generations.
Justice should be fair in principle and balanced in impact. For rural California, that balance is now at risk.