Many don’t know that over 80% of Nevada’s land is owned by the federal government. That’s not just a statistic — it’s a structural constraint.
It limits how and where our communities can grow, how attainable single and multifamily housing is delivered, and now it’s eroding how we attract and retain employers. In Northern Nevada, this reality plays out in real time.
Cities like Reno, Sparks and Fernley face rising housing costs and constrained industrial development not because of market failure, but because so much of the surrounding land is off-limits. Even modest expansions of city boundaries require federal coordination, environmental reviews and congressional approval.
We are facing a critical shortage of developable land. A 2021 study commissioned by EDAWN and NAIOP Northern Nevada concluded that the region had just 25,500 acres of potentially developable land remaining across all uses — and that only 9,700 acres were considered above-average in desirability based on slope, access, and infrastructure adjacency.
In other words, the land best suited for homes, jobs, and schools is nearly gone. As the U.S. Senate considers adding back provisions in the ‘One Big, Beautiful Bill’ that would allow local communities to request and develop small, strategic parcels of federal land, Nevada has a rare chance to advocate for flexibility without sacrificing stewardship.
As a commercial real estate broker and co-founder of Street Commercial Real Estate, I’ve seen firsthand how federal land restrictions distort our industrial market, limit site selection, and slow down projects that would otherwise bring jobs and services to our communities.
Local planners and development officials across the region have expressed concern that existing federal control limits their ability to respond to growth.
In communities like Sparks, where population and job demand have surged in recent years, infrastructure and housing can't keep pace — not for lack of will or funding, but because the land simply isn’t available for local control.
Housing advocates also point out that this land bottleneck worsens affordability. Even with strong construction demand, the lack of developable land near job centers inflates land prices, extends commutes, and reduces the feasibility of workforce housing.
This is not a call to sell off wilderness areas or strip the state of its public land’s legacy. On the contrary, most proposals focus on parcels adjacent to existing development — land that could support new homes, schools, and services without fragmenting open space or harming ecosystems.
From an economic development standpoint, the stakes are just as high. Northern Nevada’s logistics, clean energy, and advanced manufacturing sectors continue to grow, but companies need industrial land that’s entitled, permitted, and shovel ready.
Site selection professionals often cite the region’s constrained land availability as a limiting factor in winning large projects. Local governments, meanwhile, are tasked with delivering public services — roads, utilities, emergency services — without the tax base expansion that land development typically provides.
With no access to new land, they’re stuck maintaining old infrastructure while facing modern demands.
What this legislation proposes is not an open-ended land transfer. It’s a chance for communities to apply for small, strategic pieces of federal land — using public processes, tied to specific community benefits like housing, infrastructure, or job creation.
And in fact, early drafts of the bill have already been scaled back to remove sweeping land sale provisions after bipartisan criticism, underscoring that this is an evolving and negotiable process.
Other western states, including Arizona, Utah and Colorado, have worked around federal ownership constraints through similar local land access strategies. It’s time Nevada did the same — not as a favor, but as a matter of fairness.
This is about giving local communities the ability to grow deliberately and sustainably. When cities are surrounded by land they can’t touch, the consequences are predictable: housing prices rise, infrastructure lags and opportunity goes elsewhere.
Nevada doesn’t need a land rush. It needs a land policy that works for its people. The ability to grow responsibly — without federal micromanagement — is not reckless. It’s long overdue.
Matthew Harris is the current principal and co-founder at Street Commercial Real Estate. Specializing in industrial assets, his years of experience in the industry have equipped him with a key understanding of local market dynamics and strategic investments. His expertise has been instrumental in facilitating the growth and success of numerous businesses across the region.