On the wall beside the CVS parking lot in Ocean Beach, a graffiti tag appeared months ago. Since then, more tags have followed. Drug use and fights in the parking lot are no longer unusual, and the sense that no one is responsible for maintaining order has become increasingly difficult to ignore.

Criminologists call this the “broken windows” theory: Visible signs of disorder signal that lawlessness will be tolerated, inviting more serious crime to follow. Though critics dubbed this theory inequitable, my coastal San Diego neighborhood of Ocean Beach has become a case study in what happens when small crimes and public disorder are allowed to persist.

The 5000 block of Newport Avenue in Ocean Beach was once a cultural and business haven. Now, it is commonplace to stroll through the area on any day and witness individuals using heroin, openly selling drugs, defecating or masturbating. Though all of these actions are extremely antisocial, they are nonviolent and therefore not a priority for the already-strained San Diego Police Department. However, as any business owner of an establishment on Newport can tell you, stabbings, druggings and brawls are no longer uncommon occurrences.

Earlier this month, I was getting cocktails and appetizers with a friend. We were sitting in outdoor seating as we watched multiple police cars line up on Newport. A staff member said that they were responding to the second stabbing of the week. My friend took out a six-month lease on an apartment in Ocean Beach. With her lease being up before long, she was still deciding whether or not San Diego would be her permanent home. She dejectedly told me that the crime and dirtiness in what was once labeled America’s Finest City — now America’s most expensive city — solidified her decision to not renew her lease. Unfortunately, this is not a one-off issue.

As a young professional and San Diego native who has spent 25 out of her 27 years of life in San Diego, I have a multitude of former classmates, colleagues and friends who have moved to the Ocean Beach/Point Loma area, drawn to the postcard-worthy Sunset Cliffs and tales of farmer’s markets and multi-story breweries — only to become disenchanted by exorbitant prices for seedy streets.

This also bleeds into the tourism industry — an industry that brings in an annual average of $22 billion in revenue and accounts for 1 in 8 jobs in the area. San Diego’s beaches, naval history and food scene have long supported a thriving tourism industry. Ocean Beach is a beach town situated both on an idyllic coastline and near the San Diego airport, making it a draw for visitors.

Sewage spills from the Tijuana River, an overall economic downturn and a drop in international travel have already battered our tourism industry. Public disorder will only worsen this. Additionally, it weakens community morale and sends a message of a city that does not care about itself or its people.

San Diegans, specifically Ocean Beach residents, are proud people. On the freeway, it is not uncommon to see multiple cars with the iconic Ocean Beach logo as a bumper sticker. Enter any bar during baseball season and you will see San Diego pride embodied. However, the lawlessness on our streets does not reflect this.

Maintaining order often begins with small, seemingly insignificant actions. In his speech “Make Your Bed,” retired Navy SEAL Adm. William H. McRaven described how the first task of the day in SEAL training is making one’s bed. The chore seems trivial, but its purpose is simple: If you cannot do the small things right, you will never do the big things right. Public safety works the same way.

Recently, someone tagged the electrical box beside my apartment parking spot. Since moving to Ocean Beach in 2021, I have witnessed drug use, fights and fireworks being set off at 4 a.m. in the alley behind my building. As a young woman living alone, those experiences are unsettling, but how can I count on law enforcement to address them if it cannot address simple vandalism?

The deeper problem is not any single incident — it is the growing sense that no one is responsible for maintaining order. If Ocean Beach hopes to remain the vibrant coastal neighborhood generations of San Diegans have loved, we cannot afford to ignore those small things any longer.

Butler, a journalist, lives in Ocean Beach.