As Florida lawmakers seek to refine the sweeping safety regulations enacted after the 2021 Surfside condominium collapse, the spotlight is once again turning toward local governments—and their troubling failure to enforce or even track the very standards designed to prevent disaster.

In Jacksonville, recent developments are painting a bleak picture: poor transparency, sluggish compliance with state-mandated condo inspections, and a city government that appears no more accountable than the private actors it polices. And in the Florida Senate, one lawmaker is leading a new push to cut through the confusion and bureaucracy before the state faces another catastrophe.

A Measured Fix: SB 1742

Sen. Jennifer Bradley, R-Fleming Island, is championing SB 1742, a bill designed to address the rollout problems that followed the post-Surfside safety mandates. Passed unanimously through its first committee in late March, the bill attempts to strike a balance between public safety and financial reality, offering property owners more flexibility while increasing statewide consistency.

Among its proposals:

• A standardized milestone inspection form focusing on structural risks, not aesthetic upgrades.

• Temporary relief for condo boards from funding reserves, for up to two years post-inspection.

• A statewide building database and a study by the University of Florida to better map and assess inspection targets.

• New rules governing community association firms and better guardrails against management abuse.

“Each of these options ensures that milestones are completed, buildings are safe, while providing more flexibility to fund reserves and maintain transparency for owners and buyers,” Bradley said.

But if the bill is a course correction, Jacksonville offers a case study in why such reforms are necessary in the first place.

Jacksonville City Government Failing Oversight Grade

State law required all qualifying condos—those three stories or higher and at least 25 years old—to submit their first milestone inspections by December 31, 2024. But in Duval County, only 29 Phase I milestone reports have been received, out of at least 167 known condo associations.

The City of Jacksonville has yet to disclose how many properties actually fall under the mandate or how many inspections were expected—information that should be readily available and critical for public safety.

Requests to the city for clarity have gone unanswered for months. On February 25, Building Inspection Division Chief Joshua Gideon acknowledged the request and promised data “within a week.” By April 8, nothing had materialized. Gideon is set to retire on April 26.

Ongoing Inquiries have been more recently met with Mayor Deegan’s, City Council Liaison Bill Delaney’s form-letter deflections: “If you'd like to make another request, feel free to do so.”

This isn’t just bureaucracy—it’s a failure of accountability. And in the absence of transparency, the city’s credibility on safety enforcement is evaporating.

When Buildings Collapse

On March 17, 2025, that oversight gap became terrifyingly real. A nearly century-old structure—the former Solomon’s Auction House at 2301 N. Main Street—collapsed without warning in the Phoenix Arts District. The roof gave way due to rot. No one was injured, but the message was clear: decay ignored is danger deferred.

Though not a residential condo subject to Surfside-inspired laws, Solomon’s collapse shows that Jacksonville's inspection systems are reactive, not preventive—even as the city rapidly greenlights downtown towers and luxury housing projects.

Had anyone from the city inspected the structure? Were there red flags? That remains unknown. What is clear is that private developers aren’t the only ones ignoring maintenance.

The City’s Own House of Cards

Just blocks from Jacksonville’s billion-dollar courthouse complex sits 324 N. Broad Street, a 1904 building owned by the city since 1994. Once home to the Black-owned National Mercantile Realty & Improvement Co., the structure now leans toward collapse after decades of city neglect. Its roof is caved in. DIA recently approved $195,000 for a partial demolition.

Why did the city allow its own property to fall into such disrepair?

There is no record of proactive stabilization work over three decades. No consistent maintenance. No urgency—until demolition became inevitable. The city is now trying to preserve only the facade, a gesture that feels more symbolic than sincere. Meanwhile, after recieving city incentives private developers are fined, sued, and publicly lambasted for the same offenses. The contrast is jarring.

Double Standards and Hollow Enforcement

Take the Laura Street Trio. Once iconic, now endangered, these buildings are at the center of a city-led foreclosure effort against SouthEast Development Group for nearly a million dollars in unpaid fines and code violations after providing millions in taxpayer financial incentives. The city is right to attempt and hold private owners accountable. But how can it justify holding others to standards it won’t meet itself?

This is the essence of “demolition by neglect.” And the city, ironically, appears to be one of its worst offenders.

Bradley’s Bill: A Path Forward, or Another Delay?

Sen. Bradley’s SB 1742 is an effort to restore clarity and consistency to a system bogged down by poor communication and uneven enforcement. By streamlining forms, building statewide databases, and introducing flexibility without compromising safety, it may help cities like Jacksonville catch up.

But there’s a more uncomfortable question that remains: If municipalities won’t even follow their own rules—or release basic data—what good are more laws?

Bradley’s reforms are a start. But if the culture of municipal unaccountability persists, no bill—no matter how well-crafted—will stop the next collapse.

Accountability Starts at the Top

As Jacksonville’s skyline climbs, its ground-level foundations crumble. Historic buildings decay while their owners, both public and private, play the waiting game—until collapse force or allow action.

Sen. Bradley’s bill addresses the technical failings of Surfside-era reforms. But the moral failings—the selective enforcement, the disregard for transparency, and the erosion of public trust—are problems the law alone cannot fix.

Until municipal governments hold themselves to the same standards sets for others, all the talk of preservation, safety, and revitalization will remain exactly that: just talk.