Imagine opening your mailbox in early 2026 and finding a property tax bill that’s hundreds—or even thousands—of dollars higher than last year… even though your home’s value barely budged. That stomach-drop moment isn’t bad luck. It isn’t inflation. It isn’t “unavoidable.” It’s the direct result of a slick political bait-and-switch you and your neighbors fell for back in 2020, when Colorado voters were scared into repealing the Gallagher Amendment—the one constitutional guardrail that had kept residential property taxes among the lowest in America for almost four decades. They called it a “temporary technical fix” to “save rural schools” during COVID. They promised no one’s taxes would go up right away. 57% of us believed them. Five years later, the temporary band-aids are ripping tempest off, and the bill for that trust is coming due—straight to your wallet. This is the story of how Colorado surrendered its best taxpayer protection… and why you’re about to pay the price.
If you're a Colorado homeowner staring down a bigger property tax bill in 2026, you can thank the quiet repeal of one of the strongest taxpayer protections in state history: the Gallagher Amendment. What started as a voter-approved bulwark against runaway taxes in 1982 was cleverly dismantled in 2020, sold to the public as a harmless "fix" during the chaos of COVID. Five years later, the consequences are hitting wallets hard—and they're only getting worse.
Passed by Colorado voters in November 1982, the Gallagher Amendment (named after its sponsor, Democratic state Sen. Dennis Gallagher) was a direct response to the wild property tax spikes of the late 1970s and early 1980s. Home values were exploding, especially along the Front Range, and homeowners were getting crushed as their taxes soared right alongside.
Gallagher fixed that with a simple, ironclad rule baked into the state constitution:
The result? The residential rate started at 21% in the mid-1980s and steadily fell—to 7.96% by 2003, then all the way down to 7.15% by 2019-2020. Gallagher kept Colorado's effective residential property tax rates among the lowest in America, shifting more of the burden to businesses and protecting families, retirees, and fixed-income homeowners from Denver's endless spending appetite.
It wasn't perfect—rural areas with slower commercial growth felt pinched—but it worked exactly as intended: forcing governments to live within their means instead of treating homeowners like an unlimited revenue source.
Fast-forward to the pandemic recession. Politicians in Denver—bipartisan this time, with Gov. Jared Polis leading the charge—panicked. Without Gallagher's formula, the residential rate was projected to drop even further (possibly below 6%), which would have meant automatic tax relief for homeowners but revenue shortfalls for schools and local governments already reeling from COVID lockdowns.
Their solution? Amendment B on the November 2020 ballot: a full repeal of Gallagher.
Here's how they pitched it to voters:
The Blue Book (the official voter guide mailed to every household) downplayed the long-term risks, and proponents flooded the airwaves with feel-good ads about "stabilizing funding" without pain. Opponents warned it was a permanent tax increase in disguise—removing the constitutional brake on residential rates—but they were outspent and drowned out.
Coloradans bought it. Amendment B passed with about 57.5% of the vote.
What voters weren't told clearly (or at all in many cases):
It was a classic bait-and-switch: Scare people with short-term budget horror stories, promise no immediate harm, then quietly restore the pre-Gallagher status quo once the crisis passed.
Fast-forward to today. With Gallagher dead and buried:
This isn't "unforeseen." It's exactly what opponents predicted. Lawmakers now have free rein to let spending balloon while homeowners foot the bill. And with TABOR still requiring voter approval for big hikes, they hide behind complicated "split rates" and deductions that sound like relief but are just smoke and mirrors.
Gallagher saved Colorado families an estimated $35+ billion over nearly four decades. Repealing it didn't fix rural funding problems (those persist); it just removed the one mechanism forcing fiscal discipline on Denver and local governments.
Coloradans didn't vote to repeal Gallagher because it was "broken"—they were told it was an emergency patch during a crisis. Instead, they handed politicians a blank check at the exact moment home values were about to explode again.
If your 2026 tax bill stings, remember: This wasn't inevitable. It was engineered. The only real fix now? Demand lawmakers restore real, permanent protections—hard revenue caps, spending limits, and maybe even a Gallagher 2.0—before the next "temporary" band-aid peels off and the bleeding starts all over again.
Homeowners deserve better than being the perpetual fallback for government overspending. The Gallagher repeal proves what happens when voters let their guard down: The taxman always comes collecting.