DeSantis Calls Florida Legislature Into Special Session Monday to Eliminate Homestead Property Taxes

Governor Ron DeSantis has called the Florida Legislature into a special session beginning Monday in Tallahassee, asking lawmakers to advance a constitutional amendment that would sharply reduce, and eventually eliminate, property taxes on homesteaded homes. The proposal, branded "Save Our Homes from Excessive Property Taxes," would represent one of the largest changes to how local government is funded in Florida in decades, and it sets up a high-stakes fight that runs from the Capitol to the November 2026 ballot.

What the governor is proposing

At the center of the plan is a dramatic increase in the homestead exemption. Under current law, qualifying homeowners shield the first 50,000 dollars of assessed value from most property taxes. The governor's proposal would immediately raise that exemption to 250,000 dollars, with a path written into general law to expand it further and ultimately phase the homestead tax out entirely. The governor's office has said the structure is designed so that the vast majority of Florida homeowners would owe little or nothing on their primary residence.

The plan reaches beyond residential property. According to the proposal unveiled by the governor's office, small business properties would see their assessment formula adjusted, cutting the relevant valuation factor from 10 percent to 5 percent. The measure also includes a residency requirement aimed at new arrivals: anyone who establishes Florida residency after January 1, 2027 would need to maintain that residency for a period of up to five years before qualifying for the enlarged exemption, a provision framed as a guard against people moving to the state purely to capture the tax break. Officials say the waiting period is meant to ensure the relief flows first to established Florida households rather than to investors or short-term arrivals chasing a one-time windfall.

The proposal layers on top of an existing constitutional structure that Floridians already know well. The Save Our Homes assessment cap, approved by voters decades ago, limits how fast the assessed value of a homesteaded property can rise each year, regardless of how quickly the market value climbs. That cap, the current 50,000 dollar exemption, and the new proposal all interact, and the governor's framing positions the new measure as the next logical step in a long Florida tradition of shielding primary residences from tax shocks. How the enlarged exemption stacks with the existing cap is one of the technical questions lawmakers will have to settle in the bill text.

Because the change would be written into the Florida Constitution, it cannot take effect on the governor's signature alone. The Legislature must approve placing it on the ballot by a 60 percent vote in each chamber, and then at least 60 percent of voters statewide would have to approve it in November for it to become law. That two-step requirement, supermajority approval in Tallahassee followed by supermajority approval at the ballot box, is a deliberately high bar that the framers of Florida's constitution built in to make tax and spending changes difficult to enact quickly.

How a special session works

A special session is a focused legislative meeting called outside the normal annual schedule to address a defined set of issues. The 2026 regular session has already concluded, so the governor is using his authority to bring lawmakers back specifically to take up property tax relief. Sessions like this are typically short and tightly scoped, though the politics around them can be anything but simple.

The timing is notable. Reports indicate lawmakers may not resolve every detail in a single sitting, and there has been discussion of additional legislative action later in the summer to finalize the ballot language and any accompanying statutes. That means Monday's gathering may be the opening move in a longer process rather than the final word.

For Floridians watching from home, the practical question is what makes it onto the November ballot and in what form. The governor controls the agenda of a special session, but the precise wording of a constitutional amendment, and any general-law framework that spells out the phase-out schedule, is the Legislature's to write. That division of labor matters, because the difference between a sweeping repeal and a more gradual reduction can come down to a few sentences of statutory text that most voters will never read but that local budget officials will study line by line.

Special sessions also carry their own procedural rhythms. Committees may meet on compressed timelines, public testimony windows can be narrow, and amendments can move quickly once leadership settles on a path. For advocacy groups, local governments, and ordinary residents who want a say, the short calendar means the window to weigh in is brief. Observers note that the speed of a special session can be an advantage for a governor with a clear goal, but it can also leave less time to surface unintended consequences before a measure advances.

The Florida context

Property taxes have become a flashpoint in Florida as home values surged through the recent housing boom. Rising assessments pushed annual tax bills higher even for longtime owners, and the state's lack of an income tax means local governments lean heavily on property levies to fund schools, public safety, roads, and other core services. That reliance is exactly why the proposal is so consequential and so contested.

The governor has paired the relief plan with assurances that essential services would be protected. The proposal directs that remaining property tax revenue be reserved for what it describes as core public needs, including public safety, education, infrastructure, and natural resources. Supporters cast the measure as a way to let homeowners keep more of their money while still funding the basics.

Critics, including some local officials and budget analysts, have raised questions about how cities, counties, and school districts would absorb the loss of a primary revenue source. The concern is not abstract: property taxes underwrite police and fire departments, classroom budgets, and local infrastructure, and a large reduction would force difficult choices about replacement revenue or spending cuts.

The math is especially pointed for fast-growing counties and for communities with large numbers of homesteaded residents relative to commercial or seasonal property. In places where the tax base leans heavily on owner-occupied homes, eliminating the homestead levy would carve out a far larger share of local revenue than in counties buoyed by tourism districts, industrial parcels, or high-value second homes that would not qualify for the exemption. That uneven impact is part of why some county commissioners have urged caution even as they acknowledge the political appeal of cutting taxes.

School funding adds another wrinkle. In Florida, a portion of property tax revenue flows to public schools through a formula that blends state and local dollars, and any change to the homestead exemption ripples through that arrangement. Education advocates have signaled they will press lawmakers to spell out exactly how districts would be made whole, given that classroom budgets, teacher salaries, and facility maintenance are all tied to that revenue stream. The proposal's promise to protect education funding will be measured against the specifics that emerge during the session.

What it means for Floridians

For a typical homesteaded family, the immediate appeal is obvious. Raising the exemption to 250,000 dollars would erase the property tax bill entirely for owners of lower-valued homes and meaningfully cut it for many others. In a state where affordability has dominated kitchen-table conversations, the prospect of a smaller or zero property tax bill is a powerful pitch.

The benefits would not be evenly distributed, however. Homeowners with higher-valued properties would still owe taxes on the value above the exemption, and renters do not pay property taxes directly, though landlords' tax savings could in theory influence rents over time. The new-resident waiting period also means recent arrivals would not see the full benefit right away.

There is also the question of what happens to services Floridians rely on. If local governments lose a major funding stream, residents could eventually face new fees, sales tax discussions, or reduced services unless the state steps in to backfill. Those trade-offs are likely to feature heavily in the campaign leading up to November.

The interaction with Florida's broader affordability picture is hard to overstate. Many homeowners are already squeezed by surging property insurance premiums, rising association fees in condominium and homeowner communities, and elevated home prices that followed years of in-migration. A cut to property taxes would offer real relief on one line of the household budget, but skeptics note that savings on taxes could be partly offset if insurance costs or local fees climb to fill gaps. For families trying to stay in homes they have owned for years, the net effect on monthly costs is what will ultimately matter.

The benefit to longtime residents on fixed incomes is a recurring theme in the governor's pitch. Retirees who bought modest homes long ago but now sit on properties whose market value has multiplied have seen their tax bills creep upward even with the existing assessment cap. For that group, a larger exemption could be the difference between staying put and being taxed out of a paid-off home, a scenario supporters invoke frequently when making the case for the amendment.

Reaction and the road ahead

The proposal has energized the governor's allies, who frame it as a historic stand for taxpayers, while drawing caution from local-government advocates and some lawmakers who want to see the fine print before committing. Because the measure needs supermajority support in both chambers, the governor will need broad buy-in within his own party and a clear answer to the funding questions that local officials are raising.

The 60 percent ballot threshold is a meaningful bar. Florida voters have approved tax-relief measures before, but a change this sweeping invites scrutiny over the long-term effects on schools and public safety. Expect a vigorous public debate over the summer and fall as both supporters and skeptics make their case.

What's next

Lawmakers convene Monday to begin work on the amendment's language and any accompanying legislation. The key milestones to watch are whether each chamber can muster the 60 percent vote needed to place the question before voters, how the final text handles the phase-out schedule and local-government funding, and whether additional legislative action is scheduled later in the summer to finish the job.

If the measure clears the Legislature, the decision moves to Florida voters in November, where a 60 percent supermajority would be required for passage. For now, the action shifts to Tallahassee, where a debate about the future of how Florida funds its communities is about to begin in earnest.