Three Years In, Michigan Communities Still Haven't Spent Millions in Opioid Settlement Funds

More than three years after Michigan began receiving its share of the national opioid settlement, dozens of counties, townships, and cities have yet to spend a single dollar of the funds intended to combat an epidemic that killed nearly 2,000 state residents in 2024 alone.

Michigan is set to receive at least $1.6 billion over 18 years from lawsuit settlements with pharmaceutical manufacturers, distributors, and pharmacies found partly responsible for the opioid crisis. Half goes to the state government, with the remaining $800 million distributed among local communities. Payments began arriving in January 2023.

But a 2025 survey by the Michigan Association of Counties found 40% of responding counties had not distributed any funds—a modest improvement from 51% in 2024. Communities from Grand Traverse County in the northwest (home to Traverse City, sitting on $2 million with another $4.2 million expected) to mid-Michigan's Eaton County have spent years developing strategic plans, conducting needs assessments, and forming committees while addiction treatment providers struggle with chronic underfunding and families bury loved ones.

"If there was some deliberative process that took three years, that's too long," said Jonathan Stoltman, director of the Grand Rapids-based Opioid Policy Institute. "Money needs to get out the door."

The Planning Paradox

Grand Traverse County Health Officer Mike Lahey told Bridge Michigan the delay reflects the complexity of deploying one-time funds effectively. "I think some localities, while appreciating (the funds), were like, 'Now what?' It was a new source of money with new types of parameters around it."

Lahey acknowledged criticism but defended the county's deliberative approach: "There are only so many chips to pass around the table. It sounds like a lot of money. But when you start talking about building programs and hiring people, a million dollars can go fast." Grand Traverse expects to issue requests for proposals in May 2026—more than three years after receiving initial payments.

Pam Lynch, director of the Traverse City-based Harm Reduction Michigan, has watched the cautious pace with mounting frustration. "It's been a very frustrating process for people who have been doing effective work for a long time," Lynch said. Her organization operates naloxone distribution programs, syringe services, and peer support with minimal resources while millions accumulate in county accounts.

Eaton County developed "a strategic plan and a community assessment to identify gaps in mitigation efforts" and remains "in a planning/assessing/collecting RFPs stage," according to Logan Bailey, director of public and governmental affairs. The county receives approximately $300,000 annually.

Isabella County, with $1.1 million in the bank, expects to spend its first settlement funds sometime in 2026. Schoolcraft County in the Upper Peninsula only recently formed a committee to make spending recommendations. Lenawee County officials will consider $1.25 million in proposals this April—their first allocation since 2023.

Misuse Concerns Slow Some Communities

Warren, Michigan's third-largest city, had $2.9 million in settlement funds as of October 2025 and had distributed none. Mayor Lori Stone explained the delay in an October news release: "There are those who are anxious to push dollars out without fully considering community needs, process, best practices, or long-term impact. Opioid use, substance use disorder, and addiction will continuously affect our community. My goal is to find a way of generating continuous revenue that can be dedicated to addressing these ongoing needs."

Warren officials did not respond to requests for updates on spending plans.

Cara Poland, chair of the Michigan Opioid Advisory Commission which advises the Legislature, agrees thoughtful planning matters but adds, "After more than three years, planning time has been adequate. We should be using those funds."

Poland's caution about hasty spending isn't unfounded. Recent controversies highlight how settlement dollars can drift from their intended purpose. Flint spent $25,000 in opioid funds for a sign-language interpreter at city council meetings. Farmington Hills used $120,000 to backfill its municipal budget, arguing the money replaced past spending on drug crisis responses—a justification that prompted a complaint to the Attorney General.

"The best case scenario is that folks who have yet to spend settlement dollars are scared to mess it up," Stoltman said. "But in your fourth year, you can't be too scared to spend it."

Where Funds Have Made a Difference

Michigan's state government has deployed its $800 million share more aggressively. The Department of Health and Human Services is distributing $131 million this fiscal year for drug prevention, treatment, and recovery services statewide.

One clear success: Since 2023, Michigan spent $14.8 million in settlement money for 424,882 naloxone kits (commonly known by the brand name Narcan), which reverse opioid overdoses. Organizations can request free kits from the state; in many communities, people who use drugs can access them through vending machines and converted newspaper boxes without encountering healthcare systems or law enforcement.

That effort receives credit for Michigan's first substantial decline in overdose deaths in years: fatalities dropped from nearly 3,000 in 2023 to 1,938 in 2024—still higher than the state's annual traffic fatality count but representing a 33% reduction.

"When someone uses naloxone, they may be reachable for treatment," Poland explained. "You don't have a chance for recovery when someone overdoses and dies."

The state's success contrasts sharply with local inaction. While MDHHS distributed nearly half a million lifesaving kits, Grand Traverse County—a region with significant tourism, seasonal employment fluctuations, and documented substance use challenges—held planning meetings.

The Full Accounting Ahead

Michigan Attorney General Dana Nessel's office has requested counties, townships, and cities receiving settlement funds report their spending. Those findings are expected this spring, providing the first comprehensive statewide accounting since a 2024 Bridge Michigan investigation found more than $90 million sitting in bank accounts with over 40% of communities having spent nothing.

Stoltman worries some communities will continue struggling to deploy funds effectively even after years of planning. He points to structural challenges: local governments often lack staff with addiction treatment expertise, fear making mistakes with one-time funds that can't be replaced, and face political pressure to demonstrate "value" rather than funding harm reduction programs some constituents find controversial.

The settlement's 18-year payment schedule means Michigan will receive funds through 2040, but that structure doesn't align with the crisis timeline. People struggling with opioid use disorder today can't wait until local governments perfect their strategic plans. Treatment providers operating on shoestring budgets need resources now, not after another year of committee meetings.

A Crisis Measured in Lives, Not Planning Cycles

The opioid epidemic killed an estimated 80% of Michigan's 3,000 drug overdose victims in 2023. Even with 2024's improvement to 1,938 deaths, that's more than five Michiganders dying daily from largely preventable overdoses.

Each delayed month of settlement fund distribution represents treatment beds unfilled, peer recovery programs unstaffed, syringe services unfunded, and naloxone undistributed. Grand Traverse County's Mike Lahey acknowledges the criticism while defending deliberation: "I hear the criticism. 'What are we doing—this money should be out.' And I get it."

But for families who've lost loved ones to overdoses since January 2023—while millions accumulate in government accounts—the distinction between thoughtful planning and bureaucratic paralysis offers little comfort.

The national opioid settlement represented a rare moment of corporate accountability, pharmaceutical companies acknowledging their role fueling an epidemic that's killed hundreds of thousands of Americans. The lawsuits forcing those settlements required years of litigation, documentation, and advocacy. The funds represent damages owed to communities devastated by aggressive marketing of highly addictive medications, misleading safety claims, and calculated strategies maximizing opioid prescriptions regardless of consequences.

That hard-won money now sits in Michigan bank accounts earning interest while treatment centers turn away patients, harm reduction programs ration supplies, and recovery coaches work second jobs because grants can't cover full-time salaries.

What Comes Next

When Attorney General Nessel's report arrives this spring, it will reveal whether Michigan's local spending paralysis has improved or whether 2026 looks distressingly similar to 2024. State leaders including Poland and Stoltman hope transparency will pressure lagging communities to finally act.

For Pam Lynch and other frontline addiction workers in Grand Traverse County, the wait continues. They know exactly how they'd spend those millions: expanding syringe access to prevent HIV and hepatitis C transmission, distributing fentanyl test strips so people can check drug safety before use, hiring peer recovery coaches with lived addiction experience, funding transportation to treatment appointments for rural residents, and training more providers to prescribe buprenorphine.

These aren't theoretical proposals requiring years of study—they're evidence-based interventions working in other Michigan communities that moved faster. Grand Traverse County's reluctance to fund them while sitting on $2 million (with $4.2 million more coming) exemplifies the gap between public health expertise and local government decision-making.

Three years into an 18-year settlement payment schedule, Michigan has time to correct course. But for the nearly 2,000 Michiganders who died from overdoses in 2024, time ran out while their local governments debated strategic plans.