Most Americans say they want to live within an easy walk of shops, parks, and other neighborhood amenities, yet some real estate agents fear that discussing an area’s “walkability” may run afoul of the law.

Their concern, in short, is that not everyone can walk. Touting a neighborhood as “walkable” may unintentionally violate fair housing laws by excluding people who use mobility aids such as wheelchairs, some advocates warn.

This poses a dilemma for agents: Almost 8 in 10 Americans say walkability is “very” or “somewhat” important when choosing a neighborhood, and nearly as many report a willingness to pay more for it, according to a 2023 survey.

This dichotomy spurred a lively discussion at a recent meeting of the Smart Growth Advisory Board at the National Association of Realtors® annual Legislative Meetings, where some agents raised concerns about using the term “walkable” in listing descriptions and conversations with clients. This despite the fact that “creating walkable neighborhoods” is listed as one of the group’s core principles.

“I must speak out right now about the nexus between fair housing and our smart growth principles,” one agent said in response to survey data about the importance of walkability, urging the committee to update the language and “look at the implicit bias.”

Jan Bozeman, an attorney at Williams Teusink, puts a finer point on it.

“Various state and federal laws consider such terminology to be misleading because it is a subjective statement rather than an objective one,” she explains. “What is walkable for one person may not be walkable for another one, and there is no standard for measuring such ambiguous statements.”

That leaves the market in a strange position: Buyers are putting a premium on homes near the places they need to go, but the people paid to help them navigate that search are being warned to choose their words carefully.

The problem with ‘walkability’

Disability activists and urban planning scholars have long warned that walkability is an incomplete measure.

Gemma Bridge, a public health and geography researcher, argues that rollability is an essential companion. She defines it as “the ease with which people navigate spaces using mobility aids, such as wheelchairs, as well as those using other wheeled aids such as walkers, or while pushing prams.”

If it seems abstract, consider a three-block trip from your front door to your favorite coffee shop. For someone who is able-bodied, it might be a leisurely stroll. For someone in a wheelchair, pushing a stroller, or using another assistive device, a missing curb cut or an unpaved path can make the same trip dangerous—even impossible.

And it’s shocking just how many of America’s neighborhoods aren’t rollable. On average, 65% of curb ramps and 48% of sidewalks across the country were not fully accessible to people with mobility limitations, according to research from the National League of Cities.

In that sense, “walkable” can conceal as much as it reveals: A neighborhood may put daily needs nearby, but still leave them far out of reach. And that’s where the term can run afoul of fair housing laws.

“It does depend on how the feature is discussed,” says Rebecca Livengood, a partner at law firm Relman Colfax.

While “walkable” may sound like an objective description, the law may consider it closer to a subjective judgment. Not only could that exclude those who don’t walk, but using the term itself could qualify as steering: the illegal practice of influencing a buyer’s housing choice based on protected characteristics such as race, color, religion, sex, disability, familial status, or national origin.

Livengood compares walkability to crime data, another neighborhood topic where the line between fact and interpretation can matter for agents. If a buyer asks whether an area is safe, she says, an agent can refer that buyer to objective crime data, such as a police department website. What agents should avoid is answering based on their gut.

“The concern is when the information is instead sort of speculative or based on rumor or impression,” she explains. That kind of subjective guidance can be inaccurate, Livengood says, and can also “perpetuate stereotypes about protected classes that result in steering.”

‘How can I say this legally?’

A cursory search of Reddit will surface a number of threads where sellers and agents alike navigate the murky waters of what qualifies as subjective vs. objective descriptions.

One post, aptly titled “How do I describe this legally?” asks how to warn a buyer from out of town about violent crime in the neighborhood. Another wonders why they can’t describe their “she-shed” or the proximity of their home to the main strip as a “short walk.”

A 1995 memorandum from the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development offers some clarity, advising agents that descriptions of areas or home features as walkable don’t violate the Fair Housing Act.

“Real estate advertisements should not contain explicit exclusions, limitations, or other indications of discrimination based on handicap (i.e., no wheelchairs). Advertisements containing descriptions of properties (great view, fourth-floor walk-up, walk-in closets), services or facilities (jogging trails), or neighborhoods (walk to bus stop) do not violate the Act,” it reads.

Even so, many local multiple listing service databases have flagged “walking distance” as language to either avoid or use with caution.

A reckoning for the language of home

As America ages, conversations around accessibility are likely to become more common in real estate—not just for buyers chasing proximity to local amenities, but for households trying to make daily life work without total dependence on a car.

Kimberly Denton, a real estate agent based in Virginia Beach, VA, says she is already seeing these themes crop up with older clients who want to age in place.

“They want to stay in their single-family suburban neighborhood, but they need something smaller, and there’s not really an option for that,” she says.

In many of these conversations, she adds, the desire for walkability is actually a need for proximity to essentials like parks, groceries, and healthcare. Securing that access often means the difference between independence and isolation.

In essence, that’s what the Smart Growth philosophy has always been about: building “healthy, prosperous, and resilient places to live for all people,” according to its website. And while its work has long focused on advocacy centered around walkability, the country’s aging population may force a rearticulation of that goal.

By 2035, 17 million older households are projected to include at least one person with a mobility disability, according to research from the Harvard Joint Center for Housing Studies. By that measure, conversations of accessibility are more important than ever.

Livengood offers some advice. “If prospective buyers say, ‘Hey, I can’t drive, it’s really important for me to live somewhere where I can walk to the store,’ there’s nothing wrong with saying, ‘Well, this house is three blocks from a grocery store,’” she explains. “That is completely fact-based information.”