Minimum Home Size
Twenty years ago, my family moved to Colorado. At the same time, I was headfirst into the world of land entitlements. It was an education I didn’t fully expect, yet one that I’ve kind of become a nerd. One detail stopped me cold. Many land use codes required a minimum home size.
That requirement felt strange immediately.
Like most people, I started thinking about the smaller homes I had known in my life. One always comes to mind first. It was the home where my mom was born and raised, in a small town in central Nebraska. Nothing fancy. No excess. Just a simple ranch home a block from a park and a few blocks from the downtown. Sounds nice, right? I’m grateful of the Sundays I spent there as a kid – such great memories!
That home was probably around 800 square feet, not counting the unfinished basement. By today’s standards, 800 square feet sounds small and rare for a single-family home.
Two decades ago, 800 square feet was the minimum that many towns and cities would permit. It was thought of as a way to preserve home prices for a neighborhood with little regard toward affordability.
Fortunately, the planning profession is evolving. Many local governments across the region have removed this outdated standard from their development codes. That change matters. A regulation that requires a minimum square footage ignores a basic truth. The cost of a home increases with every additional square foot.
More floor area means more materials. More labor. More energy use. More long-term maintenance. Requiring larger homes by code bakes higher costs directly into the housing market. That approach has nothing to do with health or safety. It has everything to do with keeping home prices high.
A minimum home size standard is out of touch with today’s housing affordability reality.
Minimum Lot Size
However, even as minimum house sizes disappear, another barrier remains firmly in place. Minimum lot sizes.
Most cities still rely on minimum lot sizes. Often, they vary by the zoning classification and usually there is an option to create your own standards for a PUD (Planned Unit Development) zone, but that has its own set of hoops to jump through. The PUD is a common zoning type for cities that now has other names depending on the jurisdiction.
Large lot requirements almost always translate into larger homes. They also limit flexibility. Even when zoning technically allows subdivision, minimum lot sizes often make it impossible to split a property into two buildable lots. The land might be large enough. The zoning might allow it. The math just doesn’t work.
In theory, there is usually a path forward. In practice, that path is expensive.
Those costs stop ordinary residents (non-developers). Consider a scenario where a homeowner has a lot zoned R-2 with a modest sized home on lot oversized for the home that is on it. The homeowner would like to add a second home to the property, as would be permitted in R-2. Subdividing the property means that both of the new lots would need to be compliant to zoning, regardless of where the home sits on the property. Below is a graphic illustrating the issues where an oversized 10,000 sq. ft. lot would require platting. In this scenario, it would also require a variance, or at a minimum, an Administrative Adjustment for the 4,600 sq. ft. lot varying by the jurisdiction.

An Uncertain and Unpredictable Process
To subdivide a lot, a homeowner must hire a professional land surveyor. They must submit a formal application to the city. They must pay associated review fees. That is only the beginning. In many cases, the process also requires additional studies, revisions, and staff coordination.
Hiring a land planner is not technically required. But planners often become essential. Applications may involve a variance, a site development plan, or both. Each step adds time. Each step adds cost.
These are soft costs. Consultant fees. Legal fees. Application fees. They arrive early. Long before construction begins. For a typical homeowner, they are alarming. For many, they are a deal breaker.
Public hearings add another layer. Neighbors may object. Timelines stretch. Uncertainty grows. What began as a modest idea—splitting a lot to add one small home—turns into a high-risk endeavor.
This is how well-intentioned standards quietly suppress missing middle housing.
Minimum lot sizes favor convention. They favor large homes on large parcels. They reward scale and capital. They punish incremental change. They punish homeowners who want to add value gently, rather than all at once.
Cities say they want more housing options. They say they want affordability. They say they want efficient land use. But land use regulations often tell a different story.
If we want smaller homes, we must allow smaller lots. If we want affordability, we must reduce regulatory friction. If we want neighborhoods to evolve naturally, we must stop forcing every idea through an expensive entitlement maze.
Housing will not fix itself. Codes matter. Details matter. And sometimes, the most powerful reform is simply letting people build small.