ABC7 reporter Josh Haskell says a fresh fight is building in Malibu, and it’s not just about architecture or ocean views. It’s about who gets to come back after a fire, how fast they’re allowed to rebuild, and whether the next version of Malibu is going to feel like a hometown or a showroom.
Haskell frames it as a collision between a painfully slow permit process and a wave of money moving in fast. In his report, he says longtime residents are already nervous because Malibu is “overwhelmingly behind” on building permits, and now international buyers are scooping up burned-out lots while locals are still stuck waiting.
One year after the Palisades Fire, Haskell says the lack of progress is “shocking.” He reports that Malibu has issued only 22 building permits.
To show just how bad that looks, Haskell compares it to Los Angeles, saying the City of LA has issued over 1,300 permits in Pacific Palisades. It’s a brutal contrast, and you can hear the frustration behind it: one place is moving, the other is still frozen.
Haskell says more than 700 homes were destroyed in Malibu, and about 300 of those were beachfront properties along Pacific Coast Highway. That’s not just a housing loss. That’s a huge chunk of the coastline’s identity getting wiped out, then left in limbo.
When disaster recovery drags out this long, it creates a vacuum. And in California, vacuums don’t stay empty – they get filled by investors, developers, and anyone with the cash to wait longer than ordinary people can.
The Permit Bottleneck And The Fear Of “Mega-Homes”
Haskell’s reporting highlights a specific fear: that wealthy developers will come in, combine lots, and build enormous second or third homes that sit empty most of the year.

He introduces Malibu City Councilman Steve Uhring, who he says is worried about developers merging properties to create 20,000-square-foot homes.
Uhring’s point, as Haskell presents it, is pretty simple: you can’t have a real community if the rebuilt Malibu is mostly vacation mansions owned by people who don’t actually live there.
Haskell quotes Uhring saying Malibu needs “a group of homeowners who live here,” who are invested, and who participate in what goes on in the community—because that’s what “make us a good city again.”
That’s not an anti-wealth argument by itself. It’s more like a warning about hollowing out a town until it becomes an expensive postcard with no daily life.
And if you’ve watched other coastal places change, you know what Uhring is afraid of. Schools shrink. Local shops disappear. Workers commute from farther away. And neighbors become strangers because nobody stays long enough to know each other.
The “Boys From New Zealand” And 16 Beachfront Lots
Haskell says that’s why residents like Uhring are paying close attention to what New Zealand billionaire brothers Mat and Nick Mowbray are doing.
According to Haskell, the brothers have purchased 16 beachfront lots where they plan to build 16 prefab homes.

Haskell reports the homes would be constructed at their company’s factory in China and then shipped to Malibu. That detail alone is enough to make some locals uneasy, even if the homes turn out beautifully, because it signals something bigger than one family rebuilding.
This isn’t “we lost our home and we’re coming back.” This is a structured, multi-lot project with a timeline, a business plan, and a company behind it.
Haskell says the plan is for the prefab homes to be “luxury high-end homes,” and that they’ll look different from each other.
He adds that these homes can be produced in about four to six weeks, which sounds fast – almost unbelievably fast – especially compared to the pace Malibu has been moving at.
But quick construction doesn’t erase the real question people are asking: quick for who, and for what purpose?
Zuru Tech Says The Plan Is Fire-Safe And Built For Malibu
Haskell includes comments from Marcel Fontijn, identified in the report as the director of operations at Zuru Tech, the Mowbrays’ company.
Fontijn tells Haskell that their system is “fire-safe,” and he explains that the walls are made of AAC, a lightweight concrete material.
Haskell’s report presents that as a major selling point, especially in a place that just lived through a catastrophic fire.
Fontijn also tells Haskell the intention isn’t to “steal” land or “commercialize” Malibu. Instead, he says they want to return Malibu to what it can be, “hopefully a better version” of its past self.

That’s the kind of line that sounds reassuring on camera, but it also lands weird if you’re a resident staring at a burned lot you can’t rebuild yet. People don’t always trust big promises when they’re coming from people who can afford to buy sixteen lots at once.
Haskell also notes that the Mowbrays have spent summers in Malibu, and their team says it’s a community they love and want to rebuild.
That may be true. But love and investment aren’t the same thing. A person can love a place like a getaway and still reshape it into something locals barely recognize.
Why Malibu Is So Hard To Build In
Haskell points out that building in Malibu is not simple, even when you have money. He lists real challenges: septic systems, a sea wall, and all the site preparation needed before construction can even start.
That context matters, because it suggests this isn’t just “permits are slow.” It’s also “this coastline is complicated.”
Still, the permit gap Haskell describes – 22 permits versus over 1,300 nearby – makes it hard to believe complexity is the only reason for the delay. The numbers make Malibu look like a city stuck in mud while everyone else keeps walking.
Haskell reports Fontijn said their original plan was to build one home used by the Mowbrays, but after buying the first lot, they got public inquiries asking if they were interested in buying more.
Fontijn says they don’t want to go through the California Coastal Commission to build very large mansions. He tells Haskell they want to “truly rebuild what was here before.”
That’s a smart argument, because “rebuilding what was here” sounds like respecting the past instead of replacing it. But critics are going to ask what that really means in practice.
If the homes are luxury, high-end, and priced based on whatever the market looks like later, then “what was here before” might still turn into something only the wealthy can afford.
The Timeline: First Homes By 2027, All By 2029
Haskell says the plan is to have the first two homes complete by the end of 2027, and all 16 homes finished by 2029.
That timeline is long enough to feel real, but also long enough for locals to worry about what changes might happen along the way.

Uhring, speaking in Haskell’s report, puts it bluntly. He says people will eventually realize “the boys from New Zealand are billionaires” and that they’re in it to make money.
Uhring also says he can’t predict whether the plan stays the same or gets revised later. He describes his “crystal ball” as not good enough to know how it will work out.
That’s the part that hits hardest, because Malibu residents aren’t just afraid of one specific blueprint. They’re afraid of the unknown power imbalance.
When one side is trying to rebuild a life and the other side is running a major project, the rules don’t feel equal – even if they technically are.
A Proposed Size Cap For Beachfront Homes Gets Voted Down
Haskell reports that at a Malibu City Council meeting last month, Uhring proposed a rule to create a maximum allowable square footage for beachfront properties.
But according to Haskell, that proposal was voted down.
Haskell notes there’s already a cap on how big a home can be in Malibu if you’re not on the beach. The beachfront, however, is a different story, and that difference is exactly why this debate is so heated.
It’s like Malibu has two futures competing at once. One version tries to rebuild a neighborhood. The other version turns the beach into a strip of massive, ultra-private structures that barely interact with the town behind them.
When a size cap gets voted down, it sends a message – even if council members didn’t mean it that way. It says the door is still open for “bigger,” even when many residents are begging for “livable.”
The Bigger Problem Malibu Has To Solve
Haskell’s report isn’t really just about the Mowbrays. It’s about what happens when a disaster hits a high-value place where land is scarce and wealth is global.

In a town like Malibu, rebuilding isn’t just construction. It’s a fight over identity.
And the permit slowdown Haskell describes almost guarantees conflict, because every month of delay increases the chance that burned-out lots get sold to whoever can afford to wait.
My honest reaction is that Malibu is risking something it won’t be able to rebuild later: trust. If residents feel like the system is so slow that only outsiders can navigate it, they’ll stop believing the process is fair, even if officials insist it is.
At the same time, it’s also fair to admit what Haskell shows: Malibu needs homes rebuilt, period. If prefab construction really is fire-safe, and if it truly speeds up the return of housing, that’s not automatically evil.
But Malibu can’t just “build again.” It has to rebuild in a way that keeps locals from being pushed out by the very recovery meant to help them.
That’s the tension Haskell captures: the fire destroyed homes, but the slow aftermath could destroy the community that made Malibu feel like Malibu in the first place.

Mark grew up in the heart of Texas, where tornadoes and extreme weather were a part of life. His early experiences sparked a fascination with emergency preparedness and homesteading. A father of three, Mark is dedicated to teaching families how to be self-sufficient, with a focus on food storage, DIY projects, and energy independence. His writing empowers everyday people to take small steps toward greater self-reliance without feeling overwhelmed.


































