Unincorporated, Underserved

Where the City Doesn’t Go

Drive just fifteen minutes past the heart of cities like San Bernardino, Palmdale, or Riverside, and you’ll find communities that technically exist, homes, families, businesses, but don’t belong to any city.

These are California’s unincorporated areas, and for the 2.2 million residents who live in them, the cost of being left off the city map can be steep: fewer services, slower emergency response, poor infrastructure, and limited political power.

While Los Angeles County gets much of the spotlight with places like East LA or Florence-Firestone, the Inland Empire tells a quieter, rougher story, one defined by fragmented oversight and generations of underinvestment.

“We Don’t Get Trash Picked Up Like They Do”

Take Muscoy, a community just northwest of San Bernardino proper. It’s technically governed by the County of San Bernardino, but unlike a city, there’s no local mayor or council solely focused on its needs. Residents say they feel the difference every week.

“We don’t get trash picked up like they do in the city,” says Elena Torres, a resident whose family has lived in Muscoy for 28 years. “The county says we have services, but they don’t come on time. And when something breaks, good luck getting a response.”

That gap isn’t just perceived, it’s structural.

In unincorporated areas, services like road repairs, waste management, and law enforcement fall to the county. But with wide jurisdictions and limited budgets, many county governments prioritize incorporated cities, leaving unincorporated areas stuck with patchwork solutions or no solutions at all.

Representation Without Visibility

Most unincorporated communities don’t have a local government. Instead, they fall under the purview of county supervisors who oversee tens of thousands of people across large geographic regions.

It’s not uncommon for a single county supervisor to “represent” dozens of unincorporated neighborhoods, often without direct engagement or district-specific resources.

In places like the High Desert, this lack of visibility leads to chronic neglect.

“You don’t get parks. You don’t get libraries. You don’t get sidewalks,” says Manuel Delacruz, a community organizer near Victorville. “It’s not just an inconvenience; it affects your health, your kids, your future.”

When Incorporation Fails

Incorporation, the legal process of becoming a city, sounds like a solution. But in practice, it’s rare and complicated.

San Antonio Heights, a foothill community near Upland, has debated incorporation multiple times but continues to rely on county control. The problem? The financial hurdle of running a city is massive. Residents would likely face higher taxes, and many are skeptical of whether incorporation would truly deliver better services.

In other cases, like Bloomington (between Fontana and Rialto), residents feel squeezed by cities trying to annex land for tax revenue without offering full city benefits in return.

“You’re caught in a tug-of-war,” says Grace Martinez, a teacher in Bloomington. “The county doesn’t do enough. The cities want our land but not our problems. So we stay invisible.”

The Policy Trap

Part of the reason unincorporated communities stay underserved is because of how state and federal dollars are distributed. Grants often go to cities, not counties, or they come with rules that make serving rural or edge areas logistically expensive.

And when emergencies hit, the consequences are more than bureaucratic.

During the 2020 wildfires, residents in unincorporated parts of San Bernardino County reported delays in evacuation notices and fire suppression. Without city-level emergency plans, they had to rely on a slow-moving county apparatus stretched thin across multiple towns and rural zones.

The Bottom Line

Unincorporated areas in Southern California represent a paradox: they’re both inside and outside the system. Legally part of the county, but politically and economically sidelined, they exist in the margins of policy, funding, and infrastructure.

For some, that brings a sense of independence or escape from city bureaucracy. For others, it means being left behind, forgotten, or actively avoided.

But these communities are not empty land; they’re neighborhoods, homes, and lives that deserve the same level of service and representation as any city street.

Until that happens, the line between “city” and “county” will remain more than just administrative. It will remain unequal.