Flirting with disaster - disaster relief reform

Washington Monthly, Oct, 1996 by John Solomon

It would have been understandable if television viewers thought CNN had started running reruns. In 1993, its cameras had vividly captured the extensive flooding along the Missouri and Mississippi rivers, where homes were destroyed and crops ruined. Because only 17 percent of the property damaged had been insured, it had cost the federal government $6 billion in emergency relief aid. Two years later, when high waters returned, three fourths of the properties in the most dangerous areas had no flood insurance; again, the feds (followed by, TV crews) came back to help repair and rebuild. Even now, after all these warnings, still only 30 percent of homeowners have adequate flood insurance. The number is even lower in the areas where Hurricane Fran struck.

Welcome to the world of federal disaster relief, a political ritual with a protocol all its own:

1) Following disaster (televised live), president expresses nations sympathy, pledges to do everything possible, sends Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) to scene, and declares national disaster, authorizing emergency grants and low-interest loans.

2) Media airs dramatic interviews with victims, who praise FEMA's performance.

3) President and/or cabinet officials make on-site inspection. More aid is promised.

4) Asserting that this transcends politics," Congress passes "emergency" appropriations overwhelmingly.

5) Community congratulates itself for coming together and thanks rest of country for its support; every elected official gets a positive bump in the polls.

6) Repeat when necessary.

This procedure is so ingrained that Americans rarely think about its broader long-term implications. Natural disasters often merit round-the-clock television coverage, and moviegoers made Twister one of the top blockbuster hits of the summer. Yet if taxpayers did look beyond the pictures they might be distressed by how much money is spent, the disproportionate benefit going to politically important states, md the personal irresponsibility of many of the recipients.

Other than successfully commanding a war, there is no better way for a politician to look "presidential" than by taking charge after a natural disaster. In February, President Clinton made special visits to key swing states Pennsylvania and Washington to inspect relief efforts after he declared them federal disaster areas. Of course, it would have been impolitic to mention that only I percent of businesses and homes in those states had purchased proper flood insurance.

The most blatant use of federal disaster relief as a political tool was President Bush's promise of a half billion dollars during the 1992 campaign to rebuild Florida's Homestead Air Force Base, destroyed by Hurricane Andrew. The Pentagon had already decided it did not need the base and scheduled Homestead for closing. But Bush, previously pilloried for his slow reaction to Andrew, wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. (Not surprisingly, the two states that have received the great bulk of relief aid are also electorally rich. California, which has 54 electoral votes, received 55 percent of federal aid from 1989 to 1994. Florida, with 25 electoral votes, got 20 percent)

The problems here are obvious. First, a few billion for this earthquake, a few billion for that hurricane, and soon you're talking about real money. Contrary to popular belief, disaster aid does not come out of some bottomless "rainy day" fund; at more than $50 billion over the last five years, it has become an increasingly costly piece of the federal budget. In fact, it is one of the few government activities where politicians, the public, and the press all agree that the standard of success is how much and how fast money can be spent. Not only is disaster relief untouchable, it's a unique example of political pork that everyone accepts as kosher.

The second problem is that political pressures can lead to relief measures that are unnecessary, or even counterproductive. Last August, as firefighters fought devastating wildfires over thousands of acres in New York's Long Island, Governor George Pataki and Senator Alfonse M. D'Amato held a press conference announcing that the U.S. Forest Service would be sending C-130 aerial tankers capable of dropping 3,000 gallons of fire retardant.

When the planes did not show up immediately, the politicians went back on television to criticize the federal response. Area Congressman Michael P. Forbes sent a letter to President Clinton demanding an investigation into what he called the "C-130 fiasco," and the White House instructed federal officials on the scene to respond to local demands. USA Today even weighed in, asking why the planes did not appear in an editorial titled "Jumbo Disappointment,

Missing from the furor was one important fact: Firefighters on the ground neither needed nor wanted the C-130s which they thought would be more difficult to maneuver than the planes and helicopters already on the scene - and therefore potentially dangerous. According to the local Southhampton Press, the misguided pressure forced the U.S. Forest Service to "spend hundreds of thousands of dollars to bring airplanes that only the press and the politicians and the misled public cared to see." An internal Agriculture Department review of the C-130 controversy buttressed this point of view, concluding that "well-intentioned but inexpert involvement in ordering resources ... hampered the fire team and local authorities in using aircraft on the fire safely" Predictably, the report received scant coverage from the same local news operations that had helped whip up the frenzy with their live remotes.