Discover the Czech Millennial Creating a Utopia in California's Hayfields
Fueled by his tech billions, Jan Sramek envisions building a new, affordable, walkable city. However, this dream hinges on whether California will permit him to proceed.
TroibNews 
SOLANO COUNTY, California — Driving north from San Francisco beyond the bay and sea serves as a stark reminder of how relatively new this region is in the broader context of history.
As towns become rarer and eventually vanish, they give way to rolling hills, expansive fields, and farms. This landscape evokes a different California, one characterized by green pastures and gold-laden streams—a contrast to the narratives of crime and unaffordability that often dominate discussions about the state today.
Jan Sramek, a 38-year-old Czech new-urbanism advocate standing around 6'7", sees rapid change as an inevitability. Not long ago, San Francisco was merely a settlement of camps and homes at the continent's edge, while Oakland was a marshy peninsula dotted with orchards. Through the creation of monumental bridges and skyscrapers, San Francisco evolved into a global hub for technology and innovation—once unimaginable, now a reality.
Operating from a standard office park situated 40 miles north of San Francisco, Sramek is convinced that such transformation can happen once more. With a childhood spent in the post-Soviet Eastern bloc, he developed a fascination with the allure of California. Now, as a real estate entrepreneur, he envisions a future where the rural hayfields and tranquil towns nearby evolve into a new, gleaming metropolis—prospective solutions to the dilemmas faced by California's existing urban centers. The proposed city, to be called California Forever, symbolizes both the state's remarkable achievements and its untapped potential.
“The modern world was basically made in California over the last 100 years, and that meant it was built with Californian values,” Sramek said. “I think we have a responsibility to keep it going.”
At the heart of Solano County—a 27-square-mile region nestled between Sacramento and San Francisco—Sramek aims to demonstrate California's capacity for boldness. He intends to cut through bureaucratic hurdles, create a sustainable community for 400,000 residents, and reinstate the tradition of dense, walkable cities that have existed since civilization began.
The path has been rocky since Sramek unveiled his city plans in 2023 with backing from notable tech figures such as Marc Andreessen, Reid Hoffman, and Laurene Powell Jobs. While 2023 marked the project's introduction to the public, 2024 brought challenges, as skepticism and hostility from residents emerged toward billionaire newcomers. The outcome of 2025 will ultimately reveal whether Sramek's ambitious dreams for the future can coexist with the slow processes of local governance.
Last year, he encountered a setback when his proposal for California Forever failed to gain approval through a public referendum, despite its aim to offer a modern, affordable urban center free of sprawl. Opinion polls indicated insufficient public support, leading him to withdraw the initiative before it was formally rejected. Today, Sramek is collaborating with county officials to refine his proposal, navigating a barrage of requests for documentation. By year's end, he will need to decide whether to return to voters in 2026 with the full vision.
This new phase of Sramek's journey involves engaging with the very institutions he seems to view with disdain. Unlike figures like Elon Musk or David Sacks, who are trying to influence federal processes, Sramek must choose between gradually winning over an apprehensive public or aggressively pushing through local governance without regard for public sentiment.
Signs of potential hurdles became evident before Sramek withdrew his initiative. At a town hall meeting in November 2023, he was confronted by frustrated Solano County residents. This gathering in Vallejo—home to 124,000 working-class residents—marked the first of eight planned outreach events as California Forever began advocating for a measure to rezone agricultural land for new development. Presenting only colorful renderings of prospective neighborhoods, Sramek appeared caught off guard by the crowd's hostility.
“I’m sick and tired of developers coming in and we don’t know nothing,” a woman shouted during the meeting, with Sramek listening in stunned silence.
“Honestly, I’m probably more skeptical now than I was when I walked in,” another attendee remarked as he exited.
The reception reflected a significant shift in perception for Sramek and his tech billionaire-backed team, who initially arrived in Solano County with an air of exceptionalism.
After relocating to California in the 2010s, Sramek became fixated on the state's housing crisis, realizing that incremental growth in existing cities wouldn't suffice. He envisioned undertaking something monumental. Following years of research, he began discreetly approaching prominent investors to support what would ultimately be known as California Forever.
In 2018, he identified Solano County—a region grappling with high unemployment and child poverty rates—as the suitable location for his idea. The land, previously earmarked for development by the Army Corps of Engineers, seemed ideal for his plans. Sramek's team quietly acquired tens of thousands of acres, instigating lawsuits against homeowners refusing to sell by accusing them of price fixing, quickly becoming the largest landowner in the area.
In August 2023, following a New York Times exposé detailing their activities, Sramek and California Forever presented their initiative to the world with fervor, declaring ambitions to construct a new city in Solano County within the next five years. They promised job opportunities and affordable housing for the region, as well as facilities like hospitals, schools, water parks, and sports complexes. The proposal involved bypassing standard county planning processes, facilitating the reclassification of 17,500 acres of agricultural land for this new city—home to roughly 400,000 residents, akin to the population of Tampa, Florida. The plan was curated by prominent LinkedIn co-founder, managed by a former chief strategist for John McCain, and featured leaders from Kamala Harris’s presidential super PAC.
“They just walked in and said, ‘Here’s the plan,’” former Solano County supervisor Duane Kromm said.
California Forever soon launched a $10-million public relations campaign, spearheaded by Sramek, to convince Solano County residents to support their initiative to circumvent decades-old growth ordinances limiting development beyond existing urban areas. The initiative was structured to minimize oversight from the county and public alike.
“This would solve the housing situation in Solano County and regionally,” Sramek argued at the time. “This would fix the lack of good-paying local jobs that we have been trying to fix in Solano County for 40 years.”
By June 2024, enough signatures had been collected to place the initiative on the November ballot. However, public sentiment had already solidified, with many residents alarmed by the lawsuits against their neighbors and concerned about potential impacts on traffic, local economies, and protected species. The prevailing perception was that affluent outsiders were attempting to impose their vision on the county.
In late July 2024, sensing a likely defeat, Sramek withdrew the initiative, marking an unceremonious end to what had been perceived as a high-stakes campaign. In a joint statement with the county supervisors, Sramek agreed to follow the county's original request: study the project, finalize a development plan with county officials, and then seek public approval to amend zoning laws.
Yet this shift did little to appease his detractors. Opposition flourished among diverse groups, from farmers to environmental advocates to the local Republican Party. The almost utopian visions forwarded by California Forever only fueled public discontent.
Critics argue that Sramek should have anticipated these challenges, a sentiment evident during the Vallejo town hall months before the ballot initiative's withdrawal. Back then, despite feeling the crowd's anger, Sramek appeared dismissive of their concerns.
“Certain people just hate development,” Sramek told reporters post-meeting.
Two individuals involved with Sramek describe him as possessing a confidence bordering on hubris. After meetings with local officials, he frequently left feeling optimistic about the outcomes, insisting that most residents were actually supportive of his proposals—contrary to polling data.
Many on his team advised him to adopt a more restrained public presence during the campaign. They cautioned that promises of amenities like water parks and hospitals could backfire. One former staff member remarked that it seemed like “you're just making shit up.”
California Forever's spokesperson countered, stating, “This was clearly going to be a controversial project in the beginning, and while there's always room for improvement, by the end of July 2024, a poll of likely voters in Solano County conducted by Impact Research found that 65 percent supported development in east Solano County. This, and the continued progress since then, is a testament to the community work and relationship-building that Jan and the California Forever team have been doing.”
Catherine Moy, the mayor of nearby Fairfield, had a different take.
“They couldn’t have done a worse job with PR to start their campaign,” Moy said. “Suing farmers that a lot of us grew up with for a half billion dollars? And it just got worse and worse from there.”
The period between the Vallejo meeting in November 2023 and the subsequent failure of the ballot initiative in mid-2024 provides an insightful case study in how ambitious tech investors confront the harsh realities of local California politics. The tension between civil institutions and disruptive innovators shapes national dialogues. While figures like Musk attempt to reshape American bureaucracy, Silicon Valley billionaires, many of whom back California Forever, seek to leverage deregulation to their advantage.
Many of the same tendencies influence Sramek’s aspirations, leading to comparisons with Musk from locals and observers. He expresses frustration that California's regulatory framework impedes quick action, insisting that although he undertakes necessary environmental reviews and traffic studies post-referendum, he still resists the extended timelines typical for development projects in California.
“If we can build a bridge spanning the Golden Gate, a 400-acre island in the middle of the Bay, and a brand-new jet that will revolutionize aviation, all in under four years, then surely we can plan a new community in less than six,” Sramek wrote to county administrators in a passionate letter last October.
“It should be entirely reasonable to get local approvals done by 2026, and shovels in the ground in 2028.”
However, the reality of development in California is markedly intricate.
During a summer tour of the prospective city, Sramek, sipping flavored sparkling water in a Rivian truck, navigated through expansive fields and farmland of his envisioned community. It was August 2024, a trying time for California Forever with the ballot initiative recently canceled and no clear pathway ahead. Amidst the breathtaking landscape, Sramek oscillated between acceptance and bewilderment regarding the formidable challenges facing his grand vision.
On one side, he views California's land use debates as “a bloodsport.” The clandestine land acquisitions, intense local backlash, and the dynamic negotiations with county officials are merely the necessary costs of doing business in the state.
On the other, Sramek sees a housing crisis acknowledged by governmental bodies at all levels. He believes his project could fulfill housing needs in an exceptionally valuable location, situated at the heart of the San Francisco Bay area's mega-region, linking both San Francisco and Sacramento. He describes the expansive land holdings near the Sacramento River Delta as an exceptionally advantageous locale, largely insulated from risks such as wildfires, earthquakes, or floods.
For each critique posed about his plans, Sramek insists he possesses a well-considered response, honed through a year of rigorous analysis. Water supply? The development would repurpose water currently allocated to an underperforming almond orchard. Environmental issues? Sensitive areas, including vital breeding ground for rare species, would be safeguarded. Concerns about traffic? “We've never had a problem building highways—we’ll just build more,” he asserts.
“If you look at every state bill that has passed in California in the last 10 years, they call for a simple zoning code, walkable neighborhoods, affordability by design, sustainability and low emissions,” Sramek stated. “Everything they are calling for is in our proposal. And the bottleneck to building it is widening seven miles of highway?”
Sramek approaches his dream city with remarkable passion. He views California Forever as an opportunity to resurrect the type of city that has faded from the American landscape. For centuries, cities designed for human movement—such as Athens, Madrid, London, and New York—thrived until World War II marked a turn toward development styles that favored automobile usage. Nowadays, the most desirable, densely populated cities often come with steep price tags and are products of pre-war planning.
The allure of the walkable city, combined with Sramek's tendency to promote his project from behind the wheel of an expensive electric vehicle, has drawn in some of the wealthiest individuals globally. However audacious it appears, California Forever is not the first initiative for a meticulously planned community. Celebration, Florida—a Disney-designed town—took shape nearly 30 years ago, inspired by themes of quintessential small-town America. Before that, Irvine, California aimed to provide an escape from urban crime and pollution.
Perhaps the most similar project to California Forever is Columbia, Maryland, conceived in the 1960s by James Rouse, who envisioned it as a “garden for growing people.” Like California Forever, development there began through clandestine land acquisitions that elicited local speculation about alternative, dubious purposes. Likewise, it was introduced with a sense of salvational urgency, aiming to eliminate discrimination of all forms. Like California Forever, it also faced initial zoning complications. Over time, Columbia emerged as a highly sought-after place to reside.
Beyond his financial investment, Sramek is emotionally tethered to this venture. Born to working-class parents in a small Czech town, he later attended the University of Cambridge and the London School of Economics. Following his graduation, he worked at Goldman Sachs before relocating to the U.S. to pursue various startups. Throughout his California experience, he contemplated solutions to the housing crisis. Initially leaning toward infill projects, he soon recognized that such endeavors would fall short, leading to the idea of California Forever slowly taking hold over the past decade.
“I spent eight years of my life buying this property without knowing that this would ever work,” Sramek stated. “There are so many easier ways to make money than trying to build a new city.”
Launched in 2017, the project is as much about real estate opportunity as it is about proving to himself that the idealized version of California that he cherishes still exists. For Sramek, the post-communist Eastern European culture after the fall of the Berlin Wall became infatuated with all things American, with California serving as the epitome of glamour, ambition, and opportunity.
“There's a really unique combination of people, natural beauty, climate, diversity, and openness to innovation that just happened in California,” Sramek expressed. “It's extremely sad that we are destroying it, basically by an entirely unforced error.”
As he sped past orchards and a quaint ranch house, he emphasized that professional endorsements of his development “weigh more heavily than a couple of angry voters who don’t know the details of the project.” Drawing upon public meetings with frustrated residents, he labeled their opposition as “undemocratic,” accused California's economic policies of being “self-inflicted suicide,” and described the state's regulatory landscape as a “layer cake of bad ideas.”
“Hollywood happened here, they found gold here in the hills, then Silicon Valley happened here, and then the countercultural revolution happened here,” Sramek reflected. “And then we screw it up because we can’t build enough housing?”
Sramek views California as at risk of becoming akin to Florence, the ancient Italian city once celebrated as a cultural epicenter which has now diminished into a vast, open-air museum. He believes that the years of regulations hindering development could lead the state down a similarly stagnant path. He argues for the necessity of California Forever—featuring commitments to advanced manufacturing and a $30-billion private investment—as a counter to regulations that could send opportunities elsewhere.
“When you take 50 good ideas and you lay them on top of each other, you don't get an idea that's 50 times as good as the 50 good ideas,” Sramek said. “You might actually get a really, really, terrible system.”
Yet, for now, he is committed to working within that very system. He claims that partnering with the county doesn’t trouble him and that withdrawing the ballot measure allowed his engineering and city planning teams to refine their concepts without the pressure of an impending vote. California Forever leaders insist that stepping back from the measure is not an admission of failure but a strategic regrouping, emphasizing that voters had legitimate inquiries regarding the project.
They assert their commitment to address those queries over the next two years—then return to the ballot.
Last December, the grand aspirations behind California Forever were presented to Solano County administrator Bill Emlen, a veteran county staff member tasked with overseeing the potential construction of America’s next great city.
“Let’s face it, it's not your average development proposal,” Emlen remarked. “And I don’t get the sense that governmental processes are something they particularly embrace.”
According to Emlen, California Forever’s proposal lacked specific timelines for development and failed to clarify how it would serve the community. While he empathized with the challenges related to new housing, he noted the absence of detailed plans regarding affordability, greenhouse gas emissions, job creation metrics, and more.
After California Forever committed to working with the county, Emlen sought answers to those critical questions. Additional concerns included how stormwater management, sewage, and transportation would be addressed, as well as ramifications for nearby agricultural lands and the neighboring Air Force Base.
In an October communication to Sramek, Emlen delineated the county's requirements: submit a comprehensive plan, a rezoning strategy, an environmental impact report, and a development contract. If an agreement is reached with the county, the proposal would still ultimately need public approval.
Typically, developers submit extensive documentation when seeking permits. While California Forever has attributed delays to alleged county inaction, Emlen indicated that as 2025 approached, he still had yet to receive the necessary paperwork.
“We're kind of just waiting for them to file an application,” Emlen stated in January. “They still haven’t done that yet.”
This demand for information stands in stark contrast to the sweeping promises made by Sramek and his team. With Emlen announcing his retirement later in March, the new county administrator will likely have similar inquiries.
Sramek, for his part, asserts that his team is in the midst of preparing the requisite documents for county submission and welcomes inquiries from both officials and community members. He contends that he is eager to fulfill the regulatory obligations that enhance a city’s quality, safety, and sustainability. However, he adamantly opposes delays that he believes will entrap his project in bureaucratic stagnation, a scenario he perceives as commonplace in California development.
Edwin Okamura, the mayor of nearby Rio Vista, highlighted that his interactions with Sramek have been generally constructive, likening them to discussions with other business leaders.
“You sit across from someone you may like or dislike, and when you leave the table you say, ‘OK, he's really trying to push this project,’” Okamura noted. “But you're either at the table or you’re being cooked in the kitchen.”
Okamura attempts to sidestep the emotional dynamics surrounding Califronia Forever, recognizing that if Solano County rejected all affluent investors, development would stagnate. Nonetheless, he is skeptical that Sramek's vision, as currently presented, serves the best interests of the county. The success of California Forever may threaten existing cities like Rio Vista. Alongside Emlen, Okamura has seen only broad outlines of the plan, lacking substantive detail.
“I think many of the ideas they have are great—better farming methods, better ranching methods, a sustainable community,” Okamura observed. “But nothing has been proven.”
By the end of January, following a prolonged dry spell, Northern California found itself in a state of limbo. Sunny, warm days replaced the seasonal rains.
California Forever, too, seemed to stall; media and public interest waned. Opponents continued to meet but with less fervor than during the previous ballot initiative campaign. Sramek appeared to be at an impasse with the county. To detractors, it seemed that David had triumphed over Goliath.
However, on January 30, leaders from Suisun City—a small, 28,000-person town traversed by train tracks—created an unexpected stir at an otherwise routine city council meeting: they announced plans to collaborate with “regional partners” to consider annexing land that encompassed California Forever.
Notably, the only direction Suisun City could expand was eastward, directly into the territory controlled by California Forever. Although simply a preliminary exploration of potential annexation, the announcement unsettled Solano County residents who had perceived California Forever as all but defunct.
Suddenly, Sramek’s vision regained momentum.
“At only four square miles, we are Solano County’s smallest city,” Suisun City manager Bret Prebula stated following the council meeting. “Now is the time to consider what more we can do to creatively grow our community and deliver more economic opportunity.”
Despite California Forever's struggles to gain local support, the team had persistently made efforts to court regional leadership—with limited success. For months, few elected officials had endorsed the project. In 2023, a council member in Suisun City recalled being lobbied for support from a California Forever representative. Meanwhile, Moy, the mayor of Fairfield, expressed concerns that if local officials failed to get on board, California Forever would seek to place supporters into power.
Yet, the outreach efforts may have finally yielded results, particularly with financially strapped Suisun City. If the proposal advances, the California Forever initiative could evolve into a conventional municipal land-use project requiring approval only from a regional planning agency, bypassing countywide ballot measures. The land already acquired would be integrated into Suisun City, enabling California Forever to commence construction under a new identity.
“The project would stop being California Forever and it would start being the city of Suisun,” Washington recounted, the only council member opposed to the annexation exploration. “To do this was very cunning. It’s diabolical.”
California Forever representatives declined to confirm any formal agreement but indicated they were “open to discussion.”
The power dynamics seem to be shifting once more. Earlier this month, the Rio Vista City Council announced intentions to explore a partnership with California Forever, seeking to join the conversation actively.
In the wake of Suisun City’s development, even Moy, typically a vocal critic, expressed interest in collaborating with Sramek and California Forever. In response, the organization sent her a letter, disclosed to PMG Magazine, wherein it condemned her for previous negative comments, alleging “brand damage” and “a persistent campaign of slander.”
“Ms. Moy has proven herself either unable or unwilling to deal with any facts or reality,” the letter stated. “Could you please let us know how the city plans to address the brand problems Ms. Moy has created?”
The letter, lacking a signature, simply bore the name California Forever.
This sense of retribution has overshadowed elected officials in Solano County. Previously, it seemed that California Forever might struggle despite its substantial resources. Now, the perception is that they hold the upper hand.
“They’ve forced our hand,” Okamura reflected. “We need to be at the table, and we need to start being more forward-thinking.”
On a tour of the envisioned community, one can certainly glimpse the outlines of Sramek's grand design. Proposed city limits, advanced manufacturing zones, and open spaces begin to take shape. With a little imagination, one could visualize the rolling hills enhancing a thriving community, with trails leading to scenic overlooks for weekend hikers admiring their neighborhood, while children ride bikes through leafy streets—much like the illustrations showcased in past town halls. After all, change can materialize rapidly in this region.
However, if California Forever ultimately comes to fruition, it seems unlikely that locals will feel they had a hand in the decision-making. Should the annexation by Suisun City proceed as some anticipate, residents might witness wealthy outsiders reshape their county without a chance to weigh in. As in Washington, it appears that Silicon Valley’s mindset fails to accept “no” as an answer.
When speaking with Sramek, he expresses little concern about the possibility that Solano County residents may always resist the idea, regardless of its merit.
In February 2024, he recounted a conversation with an elected official who privately endorsed the project, describing local opposition as resembling the stages of grief. People initially express anger, followed by disappointment, bargaining, and eventually acceptance.
“I pitched what I wanted to build. That's what I pitched. I talked about what I thought California could become. I talked about what I thought Solano County could become,” Sramek reflected as he drove away from the fields and back toward developed areas.
“The process was controversial. But I think it ended in the right spot.”
Lucas Dupont for TROIB News
As towns become rarer and eventually vanish, they give way to rolling hills, expansive fields, and farms. This landscape evokes a different California, one characterized by green pastures and gold-laden streams—a contrast to the narratives of crime and unaffordability that often dominate discussions about the state today.
Jan Sramek, a 38-year-old Czech new-urbanism advocate standing around 6'7", sees rapid change as an inevitability. Not long ago, San Francisco was merely a settlement of camps and homes at the continent's edge, while Oakland was a marshy peninsula dotted with orchards. Through the creation of monumental bridges and skyscrapers, San Francisco evolved into a global hub for technology and innovation—once unimaginable, now a reality.
Operating from a standard office park situated 40 miles north of San Francisco, Sramek is convinced that such transformation can happen once more. With a childhood spent in the post-Soviet Eastern bloc, he developed a fascination with the allure of California. Now, as a real estate entrepreneur, he envisions a future where the rural hayfields and tranquil towns nearby evolve into a new, gleaming metropolis—prospective solutions to the dilemmas faced by California's existing urban centers. The proposed city, to be called California Forever, symbolizes both the state's remarkable achievements and its untapped potential.
“The modern world was basically made in California over the last 100 years, and that meant it was built with Californian values,” Sramek said. “I think we have a responsibility to keep it going.”
At the heart of Solano County—a 27-square-mile region nestled between Sacramento and San Francisco—Sramek aims to demonstrate California's capacity for boldness. He intends to cut through bureaucratic hurdles, create a sustainable community for 400,000 residents, and reinstate the tradition of dense, walkable cities that have existed since civilization began.
The path has been rocky since Sramek unveiled his city plans in 2023 with backing from notable tech figures such as Marc Andreessen, Reid Hoffman, and Laurene Powell Jobs. While 2023 marked the project's introduction to the public, 2024 brought challenges, as skepticism and hostility from residents emerged toward billionaire newcomers. The outcome of 2025 will ultimately reveal whether Sramek's ambitious dreams for the future can coexist with the slow processes of local governance.
Last year, he encountered a setback when his proposal for California Forever failed to gain approval through a public referendum, despite its aim to offer a modern, affordable urban center free of sprawl. Opinion polls indicated insufficient public support, leading him to withdraw the initiative before it was formally rejected. Today, Sramek is collaborating with county officials to refine his proposal, navigating a barrage of requests for documentation. By year's end, he will need to decide whether to return to voters in 2026 with the full vision.
This new phase of Sramek's journey involves engaging with the very institutions he seems to view with disdain. Unlike figures like Elon Musk or David Sacks, who are trying to influence federal processes, Sramek must choose between gradually winning over an apprehensive public or aggressively pushing through local governance without regard for public sentiment.
Signs of potential hurdles became evident before Sramek withdrew his initiative. At a town hall meeting in November 2023, he was confronted by frustrated Solano County residents. This gathering in Vallejo—home to 124,000 working-class residents—marked the first of eight planned outreach events as California Forever began advocating for a measure to rezone agricultural land for new development. Presenting only colorful renderings of prospective neighborhoods, Sramek appeared caught off guard by the crowd's hostility.
“I’m sick and tired of developers coming in and we don’t know nothing,” a woman shouted during the meeting, with Sramek listening in stunned silence.
“Honestly, I’m probably more skeptical now than I was when I walked in,” another attendee remarked as he exited.
The reception reflected a significant shift in perception for Sramek and his tech billionaire-backed team, who initially arrived in Solano County with an air of exceptionalism.
After relocating to California in the 2010s, Sramek became fixated on the state's housing crisis, realizing that incremental growth in existing cities wouldn't suffice. He envisioned undertaking something monumental. Following years of research, he began discreetly approaching prominent investors to support what would ultimately be known as California Forever.
In 2018, he identified Solano County—a region grappling with high unemployment and child poverty rates—as the suitable location for his idea. The land, previously earmarked for development by the Army Corps of Engineers, seemed ideal for his plans. Sramek's team quietly acquired tens of thousands of acres, instigating lawsuits against homeowners refusing to sell by accusing them of price fixing, quickly becoming the largest landowner in the area.
In August 2023, following a New York Times exposé detailing their activities, Sramek and California Forever presented their initiative to the world with fervor, declaring ambitions to construct a new city in Solano County within the next five years. They promised job opportunities and affordable housing for the region, as well as facilities like hospitals, schools, water parks, and sports complexes. The proposal involved bypassing standard county planning processes, facilitating the reclassification of 17,500 acres of agricultural land for this new city—home to roughly 400,000 residents, akin to the population of Tampa, Florida. The plan was curated by prominent LinkedIn co-founder, managed by a former chief strategist for John McCain, and featured leaders from Kamala Harris’s presidential super PAC.
“They just walked in and said, ‘Here’s the plan,’” former Solano County supervisor Duane Kromm said.
California Forever soon launched a $10-million public relations campaign, spearheaded by Sramek, to convince Solano County residents to support their initiative to circumvent decades-old growth ordinances limiting development beyond existing urban areas. The initiative was structured to minimize oversight from the county and public alike.
“This would solve the housing situation in Solano County and regionally,” Sramek argued at the time. “This would fix the lack of good-paying local jobs that we have been trying to fix in Solano County for 40 years.”
By June 2024, enough signatures had been collected to place the initiative on the November ballot. However, public sentiment had already solidified, with many residents alarmed by the lawsuits against their neighbors and concerned about potential impacts on traffic, local economies, and protected species. The prevailing perception was that affluent outsiders were attempting to impose their vision on the county.
In late July 2024, sensing a likely defeat, Sramek withdrew the initiative, marking an unceremonious end to what had been perceived as a high-stakes campaign. In a joint statement with the county supervisors, Sramek agreed to follow the county's original request: study the project, finalize a development plan with county officials, and then seek public approval to amend zoning laws.
Yet this shift did little to appease his detractors. Opposition flourished among diverse groups, from farmers to environmental advocates to the local Republican Party. The almost utopian visions forwarded by California Forever only fueled public discontent.
Critics argue that Sramek should have anticipated these challenges, a sentiment evident during the Vallejo town hall months before the ballot initiative's withdrawal. Back then, despite feeling the crowd's anger, Sramek appeared dismissive of their concerns.
“Certain people just hate development,” Sramek told reporters post-meeting.
Two individuals involved with Sramek describe him as possessing a confidence bordering on hubris. After meetings with local officials, he frequently left feeling optimistic about the outcomes, insisting that most residents were actually supportive of his proposals—contrary to polling data.
Many on his team advised him to adopt a more restrained public presence during the campaign. They cautioned that promises of amenities like water parks and hospitals could backfire. One former staff member remarked that it seemed like “you're just making shit up.”
California Forever's spokesperson countered, stating, “This was clearly going to be a controversial project in the beginning, and while there's always room for improvement, by the end of July 2024, a poll of likely voters in Solano County conducted by Impact Research found that 65 percent supported development in east Solano County. This, and the continued progress since then, is a testament to the community work and relationship-building that Jan and the California Forever team have been doing.”
Catherine Moy, the mayor of nearby Fairfield, had a different take.
“They couldn’t have done a worse job with PR to start their campaign,” Moy said. “Suing farmers that a lot of us grew up with for a half billion dollars? And it just got worse and worse from there.”
The period between the Vallejo meeting in November 2023 and the subsequent failure of the ballot initiative in mid-2024 provides an insightful case study in how ambitious tech investors confront the harsh realities of local California politics. The tension between civil institutions and disruptive innovators shapes national dialogues. While figures like Musk attempt to reshape American bureaucracy, Silicon Valley billionaires, many of whom back California Forever, seek to leverage deregulation to their advantage.
Many of the same tendencies influence Sramek’s aspirations, leading to comparisons with Musk from locals and observers. He expresses frustration that California's regulatory framework impedes quick action, insisting that although he undertakes necessary environmental reviews and traffic studies post-referendum, he still resists the extended timelines typical for development projects in California.
“If we can build a bridge spanning the Golden Gate, a 400-acre island in the middle of the Bay, and a brand-new jet that will revolutionize aviation, all in under four years, then surely we can plan a new community in less than six,” Sramek wrote to county administrators in a passionate letter last October.
“It should be entirely reasonable to get local approvals done by 2026, and shovels in the ground in 2028.”
However, the reality of development in California is markedly intricate.
During a summer tour of the prospective city, Sramek, sipping flavored sparkling water in a Rivian truck, navigated through expansive fields and farmland of his envisioned community. It was August 2024, a trying time for California Forever with the ballot initiative recently canceled and no clear pathway ahead. Amidst the breathtaking landscape, Sramek oscillated between acceptance and bewilderment regarding the formidable challenges facing his grand vision.
On one side, he views California's land use debates as “a bloodsport.” The clandestine land acquisitions, intense local backlash, and the dynamic negotiations with county officials are merely the necessary costs of doing business in the state.
On the other, Sramek sees a housing crisis acknowledged by governmental bodies at all levels. He believes his project could fulfill housing needs in an exceptionally valuable location, situated at the heart of the San Francisco Bay area's mega-region, linking both San Francisco and Sacramento. He describes the expansive land holdings near the Sacramento River Delta as an exceptionally advantageous locale, largely insulated from risks such as wildfires, earthquakes, or floods.
For each critique posed about his plans, Sramek insists he possesses a well-considered response, honed through a year of rigorous analysis. Water supply? The development would repurpose water currently allocated to an underperforming almond orchard. Environmental issues? Sensitive areas, including vital breeding ground for rare species, would be safeguarded. Concerns about traffic? “We've never had a problem building highways—we’ll just build more,” he asserts.
“If you look at every state bill that has passed in California in the last 10 years, they call for a simple zoning code, walkable neighborhoods, affordability by design, sustainability and low emissions,” Sramek stated. “Everything they are calling for is in our proposal. And the bottleneck to building it is widening seven miles of highway?”
Sramek approaches his dream city with remarkable passion. He views California Forever as an opportunity to resurrect the type of city that has faded from the American landscape. For centuries, cities designed for human movement—such as Athens, Madrid, London, and New York—thrived until World War II marked a turn toward development styles that favored automobile usage. Nowadays, the most desirable, densely populated cities often come with steep price tags and are products of pre-war planning.
The allure of the walkable city, combined with Sramek's tendency to promote his project from behind the wheel of an expensive electric vehicle, has drawn in some of the wealthiest individuals globally. However audacious it appears, California Forever is not the first initiative for a meticulously planned community. Celebration, Florida—a Disney-designed town—took shape nearly 30 years ago, inspired by themes of quintessential small-town America. Before that, Irvine, California aimed to provide an escape from urban crime and pollution.
Perhaps the most similar project to California Forever is Columbia, Maryland, conceived in the 1960s by James Rouse, who envisioned it as a “garden for growing people.” Like California Forever, development there began through clandestine land acquisitions that elicited local speculation about alternative, dubious purposes. Likewise, it was introduced with a sense of salvational urgency, aiming to eliminate discrimination of all forms. Like California Forever, it also faced initial zoning complications. Over time, Columbia emerged as a highly sought-after place to reside.
Beyond his financial investment, Sramek is emotionally tethered to this venture. Born to working-class parents in a small Czech town, he later attended the University of Cambridge and the London School of Economics. Following his graduation, he worked at Goldman Sachs before relocating to the U.S. to pursue various startups. Throughout his California experience, he contemplated solutions to the housing crisis. Initially leaning toward infill projects, he soon recognized that such endeavors would fall short, leading to the idea of California Forever slowly taking hold over the past decade.
“I spent eight years of my life buying this property without knowing that this would ever work,” Sramek stated. “There are so many easier ways to make money than trying to build a new city.”
Launched in 2017, the project is as much about real estate opportunity as it is about proving to himself that the idealized version of California that he cherishes still exists. For Sramek, the post-communist Eastern European culture after the fall of the Berlin Wall became infatuated with all things American, with California serving as the epitome of glamour, ambition, and opportunity.
“There's a really unique combination of people, natural beauty, climate, diversity, and openness to innovation that just happened in California,” Sramek expressed. “It's extremely sad that we are destroying it, basically by an entirely unforced error.”
As he sped past orchards and a quaint ranch house, he emphasized that professional endorsements of his development “weigh more heavily than a couple of angry voters who don’t know the details of the project.” Drawing upon public meetings with frustrated residents, he labeled their opposition as “undemocratic,” accused California's economic policies of being “self-inflicted suicide,” and described the state's regulatory landscape as a “layer cake of bad ideas.”
“Hollywood happened here, they found gold here in the hills, then Silicon Valley happened here, and then the countercultural revolution happened here,” Sramek reflected. “And then we screw it up because we can’t build enough housing?”
Sramek views California as at risk of becoming akin to Florence, the ancient Italian city once celebrated as a cultural epicenter which has now diminished into a vast, open-air museum. He believes that the years of regulations hindering development could lead the state down a similarly stagnant path. He argues for the necessity of California Forever—featuring commitments to advanced manufacturing and a $30-billion private investment—as a counter to regulations that could send opportunities elsewhere.
“When you take 50 good ideas and you lay them on top of each other, you don't get an idea that's 50 times as good as the 50 good ideas,” Sramek said. “You might actually get a really, really, terrible system.”
Yet, for now, he is committed to working within that very system. He claims that partnering with the county doesn’t trouble him and that withdrawing the ballot measure allowed his engineering and city planning teams to refine their concepts without the pressure of an impending vote. California Forever leaders insist that stepping back from the measure is not an admission of failure but a strategic regrouping, emphasizing that voters had legitimate inquiries regarding the project.
They assert their commitment to address those queries over the next two years—then return to the ballot.
Last December, the grand aspirations behind California Forever were presented to Solano County administrator Bill Emlen, a veteran county staff member tasked with overseeing the potential construction of America’s next great city.
“Let’s face it, it's not your average development proposal,” Emlen remarked. “And I don’t get the sense that governmental processes are something they particularly embrace.”
According to Emlen, California Forever’s proposal lacked specific timelines for development and failed to clarify how it would serve the community. While he empathized with the challenges related to new housing, he noted the absence of detailed plans regarding affordability, greenhouse gas emissions, job creation metrics, and more.
After California Forever committed to working with the county, Emlen sought answers to those critical questions. Additional concerns included how stormwater management, sewage, and transportation would be addressed, as well as ramifications for nearby agricultural lands and the neighboring Air Force Base.
In an October communication to Sramek, Emlen delineated the county's requirements: submit a comprehensive plan, a rezoning strategy, an environmental impact report, and a development contract. If an agreement is reached with the county, the proposal would still ultimately need public approval.
Typically, developers submit extensive documentation when seeking permits. While California Forever has attributed delays to alleged county inaction, Emlen indicated that as 2025 approached, he still had yet to receive the necessary paperwork.
“We're kind of just waiting for them to file an application,” Emlen stated in January. “They still haven’t done that yet.”
This demand for information stands in stark contrast to the sweeping promises made by Sramek and his team. With Emlen announcing his retirement later in March, the new county administrator will likely have similar inquiries.
Sramek, for his part, asserts that his team is in the midst of preparing the requisite documents for county submission and welcomes inquiries from both officials and community members. He contends that he is eager to fulfill the regulatory obligations that enhance a city’s quality, safety, and sustainability. However, he adamantly opposes delays that he believes will entrap his project in bureaucratic stagnation, a scenario he perceives as commonplace in California development.
Edwin Okamura, the mayor of nearby Rio Vista, highlighted that his interactions with Sramek have been generally constructive, likening them to discussions with other business leaders.
“You sit across from someone you may like or dislike, and when you leave the table you say, ‘OK, he's really trying to push this project,’” Okamura noted. “But you're either at the table or you’re being cooked in the kitchen.”
Okamura attempts to sidestep the emotional dynamics surrounding Califronia Forever, recognizing that if Solano County rejected all affluent investors, development would stagnate. Nonetheless, he is skeptical that Sramek's vision, as currently presented, serves the best interests of the county. The success of California Forever may threaten existing cities like Rio Vista. Alongside Emlen, Okamura has seen only broad outlines of the plan, lacking substantive detail.
“I think many of the ideas they have are great—better farming methods, better ranching methods, a sustainable community,” Okamura observed. “But nothing has been proven.”
By the end of January, following a prolonged dry spell, Northern California found itself in a state of limbo. Sunny, warm days replaced the seasonal rains.
California Forever, too, seemed to stall; media and public interest waned. Opponents continued to meet but with less fervor than during the previous ballot initiative campaign. Sramek appeared to be at an impasse with the county. To detractors, it seemed that David had triumphed over Goliath.
However, on January 30, leaders from Suisun City—a small, 28,000-person town traversed by train tracks—created an unexpected stir at an otherwise routine city council meeting: they announced plans to collaborate with “regional partners” to consider annexing land that encompassed California Forever.
Notably, the only direction Suisun City could expand was eastward, directly into the territory controlled by California Forever. Although simply a preliminary exploration of potential annexation, the announcement unsettled Solano County residents who had perceived California Forever as all but defunct.
Suddenly, Sramek’s vision regained momentum.
“At only four square miles, we are Solano County’s smallest city,” Suisun City manager Bret Prebula stated following the council meeting. “Now is the time to consider what more we can do to creatively grow our community and deliver more economic opportunity.”
Despite California Forever's struggles to gain local support, the team had persistently made efforts to court regional leadership—with limited success. For months, few elected officials had endorsed the project. In 2023, a council member in Suisun City recalled being lobbied for support from a California Forever representative. Meanwhile, Moy, the mayor of Fairfield, expressed concerns that if local officials failed to get on board, California Forever would seek to place supporters into power.
Yet, the outreach efforts may have finally yielded results, particularly with financially strapped Suisun City. If the proposal advances, the California Forever initiative could evolve into a conventional municipal land-use project requiring approval only from a regional planning agency, bypassing countywide ballot measures. The land already acquired would be integrated into Suisun City, enabling California Forever to commence construction under a new identity.
“The project would stop being California Forever and it would start being the city of Suisun,” Washington recounted, the only council member opposed to the annexation exploration. “To do this was very cunning. It’s diabolical.”
California Forever representatives declined to confirm any formal agreement but indicated they were “open to discussion.”
The power dynamics seem to be shifting once more. Earlier this month, the Rio Vista City Council announced intentions to explore a partnership with California Forever, seeking to join the conversation actively.
In the wake of Suisun City’s development, even Moy, typically a vocal critic, expressed interest in collaborating with Sramek and California Forever. In response, the organization sent her a letter, disclosed to PMG Magazine, wherein it condemned her for previous negative comments, alleging “brand damage” and “a persistent campaign of slander.”
“Ms. Moy has proven herself either unable or unwilling to deal with any facts or reality,” the letter stated. “Could you please let us know how the city plans to address the brand problems Ms. Moy has created?”
The letter, lacking a signature, simply bore the name California Forever.
This sense of retribution has overshadowed elected officials in Solano County. Previously, it seemed that California Forever might struggle despite its substantial resources. Now, the perception is that they hold the upper hand.
“They’ve forced our hand,” Okamura reflected. “We need to be at the table, and we need to start being more forward-thinking.”
On a tour of the envisioned community, one can certainly glimpse the outlines of Sramek's grand design. Proposed city limits, advanced manufacturing zones, and open spaces begin to take shape. With a little imagination, one could visualize the rolling hills enhancing a thriving community, with trails leading to scenic overlooks for weekend hikers admiring their neighborhood, while children ride bikes through leafy streets—much like the illustrations showcased in past town halls. After all, change can materialize rapidly in this region.
However, if California Forever ultimately comes to fruition, it seems unlikely that locals will feel they had a hand in the decision-making. Should the annexation by Suisun City proceed as some anticipate, residents might witness wealthy outsiders reshape their county without a chance to weigh in. As in Washington, it appears that Silicon Valley’s mindset fails to accept “no” as an answer.
When speaking with Sramek, he expresses little concern about the possibility that Solano County residents may always resist the idea, regardless of its merit.
In February 2024, he recounted a conversation with an elected official who privately endorsed the project, describing local opposition as resembling the stages of grief. People initially express anger, followed by disappointment, bargaining, and eventually acceptance.
“I pitched what I wanted to build. That's what I pitched. I talked about what I thought California could become. I talked about what I thought Solano County could become,” Sramek reflected as he drove away from the fields and back toward developed areas.
“The process was controversial. But I think it ended in the right spot.”
Lucas Dupont for TROIB News
