Insurance can’t fix bad land use

At 11:59 pm on 30 September 2026, the National Flood Insurance Program is set to expire. If Congress does not act, FEMA stops selling and renewing flood policies. The National Association of Realtors estimates a lapse could affect about 1,300 home sales a day.

If that sounds like a crisis, it is also a routine. The program’s last full five year authorisation ended in 2017. Since then it has lived on a string of short extensions, stapled onto other bills, again and again.

The deadline gets the headlines. I want to talk about the idea underneath it.

The theory: let the price do the work

For years, the thinking went something like this. If insurance reflects the true cost of living in a risky place, people will see the price and choose to live somewhere safer. The market will quietly do what planning could not.

That is the logic behind FEMA’s newer pricing system, Risk Rating 2.0. Premiums move step by step toward what the risk really costs, with increases for most primary homes capped at 18 percent a year until they get there.

It is a tidy idea. People don’t live inside tidy ideas.

What actually happens

People rarely move because of an insurance bill. Their jobs, family, church, kids’ schools and entire lives are there. What they do instead is drop the coverage.

Flood insurance is only required if you have a federally backed mortgage and live inside the official flood zone. Pay off your mortgage and nobody makes you keep it. Live just outside the line (where, remember, a huge share of flood damage happens) and nobody made you buy it to begin with.

A brownstone stoop lined with pumpkins and mums
Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn, November 2024

People who pay off their mortgage may not even want flood insurance.

So the price signal does not move people out of harm’s way. It moves insurance out of their lives. The risk stays exactly where it was. It just stops being counted.

Bluelining

There is an older pattern hiding in here. In the last century, lenders drew red lines around neighbourhoods they would not invest in, mostly Black and immigrant ones. Some people now call today’s version bluelining: private insurers pulling back from places they see as too risky, which are often the same places that were starved of investment the first time.

BLUELINING = flood risk lending like red lining, but in coastal communities

When a neighbourhood can’t get affordable insurance, it gets harder to get a mortgage. When it is harder to get a mortgage, values fall and the people with options leave. The ones without options stay, with less protection than anyone.

Less protection with low income!!!

A thermometer is not a medicine

Insurance is very good at one thing: telling you how sick the patient is. It is a thermometer. What it cannot do is decide where we build, how we drain our streets, whether we protect the wetlands that soak up the rain, or where people can go when a place really does become too dangerous.

Those are land use decisions. They belong to planning, zoning, building codes and public investment. When we ask a premium to do that work, we get the outcome we are seeing now: prices that rise, coverage that shrinks, and risk that doesn’t move at all.

Whatever happens on 30 September, the harder question will still be sitting there after the vote. Not how to price the risk, but whether we are willing to plan for it.