Paying
for Paradise
by
Nancy Cook Lauer
Living along Florida’s coastline
is a risky business—schoolkids in Iowa can tell you that. But just how
risky is it?
Consider:
• Fourteen of the 30 most
damaging hurricanes to hit the U.S. mainland between 1925 and 1995 struck
the state of Florida;
• Fully 80 percent of Florida’s
population (7.8 million people) live within five miles of coastal land
vulnerable to storm surge flooding and high winds from hurricanes;
• Almost 30 percent of the
state’s population (three million residents) live within a Category 1 storm
surge zone, the area subject to most frequent hurricane impacts.
As the
state prepares for another potentially devastating, costly six-month hurricane
season, the figures beg the question: What if those who choose to build
and live in the riskiest areas were required to bear more of the financial
burden in case a storm hit?
That’s
the premise behind a model risk-based emergency management assessment program
developed by Drs. Richard A. Smith and Robert E. Deyle, professors in FSU’s
department of urban and regional planning.
This spring,
the researchers presented the results of their three-year modeling effort
to conferees at the National Hurricane Conference in Orlando. The study,
based on storm-damage statistics compiled from Lee County, Florida, where
the model was developed and tested, was funded by a $125,000 grant from
the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s Sea Grant program.
Based
on the premise that those who put themselves in harm’s way should be held
accountable for the cost of emergency planning, response and recovery,
the risk model is the first of its kind in the United States, says Smith.
The only model remotely similar is a wildfire mitigation assessment based
in part on the amount and type of vegetation surrounding buildings in cities
in California, he said.
"Florida
is one of the most vulnerable states to hurricanes, not just because of
our location, but because of the extent of coastal development," says Deyle.
"As a result, coastal storms striking the state have cost local governments
more than $650 million over the past 20 years. By not controlling coastal
development, we’re increasing the public cost of the storms. If we’re going
to allow coastal development, at least people should pay their own way."
But it’s
not just the owners of the posh beachfront condos who could see their tax
share increase under the fractional assessment model created by the researchers.
"Assessed
value drops faster than risk drops as you move from the coast," Smith said.
"So some will be hit harder whose property is not as valuable as the beachfront
homes, especially those in risky structures like mobile homes."
In a state
almost as synonymous with mobile homes as it is with tax-averse retirees
living on fixed incomes—or with hurricanes, for that matter—this can’t
be a popular political stance. But researchers Smith and Deyle say the
trend may well continue toward having local government, and thus the property
owner, pay a larger share, as federal and state governments look for ways
to trim costs.
Currently,
the federal government, through the 1988 Robert T. Stafford Disaster Relief
and Emergency Assistance Act, reimburses local governments for 75 percent
of their costs of post-disaster debris removal, emergency protective measures
and repair of public buildings, facilities and infrastructure. State governments
typically pay for at least half of the remainder, leaving an average 12.5
percent share for local governments to pick up.
"There’s
a general sentiment in the field that if the federal government did not
pay 75 percent of damages, maybe local government would be more responsible
about allowing risky development," Smith said.
The modeling
process involves first determining the total costs for hurricane-related
emergency management services for the local jurisdiction and then measuring
the risk characteristics of each developed parcel based on its location
and the design of the structures on it.
In Lee
County, this meant studying 146,674 taxable structures on 138,949 parcels
of land.
Using
their formulas, Smith and Deyle calculated that Lee County’s 12.5 percent
share of a storm would range from $617,145 for a Category 1 hurricane to
$25.89 million for a Category 5 storm (the strongest category).
In addition
to these damage costs, governments also pay recurring costs for pre-disaster
and post-disaster planning and mitigation. The total annualized costs in
Lee County were calculated at $1.2 million to $1.7 million.
Surprisingly,
Florida’s local governments really don’t have a handle on how much they
spend on hurricane-related services. The costs are bundled in with other
public safety services, necessitating the tedious process of teasing them
out of cumbersome county budgets.
In fact,
when the Florida Department of Community Affairs recently called upon the
state’s 67 counties to provide these estimates as a part of its disaster
planning effort, Lee County was able to do so easily because of the modeling
project.
For the
researchers, that meant hours of interviews, breaking down and calculating
everything from how much time a maintenance worker spends learning how
to best batten down the hatches to what percent of a front-end loader’s
time is used in hurricane-related tasks.
Other
governments wishing to get involved in a modeling scheme might want to
start logging such hours months ahead of time, rather than trying to recreate
them after the fact, Deyle advised.
The costs
of a disaster encompass those for planning, preparedness and mitigation
before storms hit as well as those for evacuation, emergency response and
recovery when storms strike. The risks faced by a developed parcel include
those from wind, storm surge flooding and wave damage. Some structures,
such as Florida’s ubiquitous mobile homes, face great hazards from wind
damage almost anywhere in the state. The risk to other structures is primarily
a function of their location and elevation as well as the type of construction.
"During
Hurricane Opal, more than 95 percent of the structures that were seriously
damaged were slab-on-grade, concrete-block construction," Deyle said. "Houses
that were properly elevated on pilings suffered only minor damage."
Once the
costs are calculated and the risks for each structure determined, each
parcel’s fair share is computed using data from the geographic information
system and tax parcel database in the property appraiser’s office.
The model
is designed to be dynamic—to increase with the increased value of a home,
for instance, and to decrease if homeowners improve their property, such
as by elevating the first floor to reduce the risk of damage.
In Lee
County, at least, the results were a bit of a surprise. The median tax
increase for the most high-risk properties would be just $11.26 for the
high estimate of annualized costs.
"We initially
envisioned that people would have their taxes adjusted by hundreds of dollars.
We thought that this would serve as a disincentive to development, but
taxes go up by only $11.26 in a year for a variety of reasons," said Smith.
"While this somewhat disappointed us because there was no disincentive
to build in risky areas, the notion of disincentive was only a secondary
one."
More important,
say Deyle and Smith, is the equity issue. They feel strongly that Florida
taxpayers shouldn’t be subsidizing someone else’s house-building project
on the coast. In the long run, they believe the model would help reduce
political outcry and build a contingency fund so that local governments
are prepared for the costs of dealing with storms.
John Wilson,
public safety director for Lee County and a graduate of FSU’s urban and
regional planning program, said the model shows that his county is doing
a good job with its funding formulas.
"I think
it was a worthwhile exercise," said Wilson. "One, it gave us an idea about
what a disaster event costs. But in our own county, it was kind of ironic
that we’re funded pretty much near what the model said we should be. The
idea of charging a fractional amount based on the risk to property is certainly
an interesting perspective that may require some changes to the way we
think about public safety."
The federal
government has at least toyed with the idea of changing its funding formulas
so that local governments pick up more of the costs of minor storms, with
the Federal Emergency Management Agency 1995 national performance review
one of the more recent proposals.
"Ideas
like this are still on the table," Deyle said. "And it’s a concept that
the state Department of Community Affairs has expressed interest in, in
a number of ways."
But at
the state level, it seems more likely that hurricane mitigation will be
worked toward by giving individual homeowners incentives for bolstering
their defenses, by adding storm shutters for example. While this is a laudable
goal, it could mean even more of a burden for local government than Smith
and Deyle’s model, according to Wilson.
"Giving
a person an ad valorem tax break for mitigation measures definitely provides
an incentive to property owners, but at the expense of local governments
who rely on the revenue stream," Wilson said. "At least with this alternative,
there’s not a loss in the revenue stream and possibly a gain."