Government and Hurricane: A Deadly Combination

Rothbard em 1989:

"(...) But why must taxpayers A and B be forced to pay for natural disasters that strike C? Why can't C and his private insurance carriers foot the bill? What is the ethical principle that insists that South Carolinians, whether insured or non-insured, poor or wealthy, must be subsidized at the expense of those of us, wealthy or poor, who don't live on the southern Atlantic Coast, a notorious hurricane spot in the autumn? Indeed, the witty actor who regularly impersonates President Bush on Saturday Night Live was perhaps more correct than he realized when he pontificated: "Hurricane Hugo – not my fault." But in that case, of course, the federal government should get out of the disaster aid business, and FEMA should be abolished forthwith.

(...)

How dare the mayor prevent people from returning to their own homes? When she finally relented, six days after Hugo, she continued to impose a 7:00 pm curfew in the town. The theory behind this outrage is that the local officials were "fearful for the homeowners' safety and worried that there would be looting." But the oppressed residents of the Isle of Palms had a different reaction. Most of them were angered; typical was Mrs. Pauline Bennett, who lamented that "if we could have gotten here sooner, we could have saved more."

But this was scarcely the only case of a "welfare state" intervening and making matters worse for the victims of Hugo. As a result of the devastation, the city of Charleston was of course short of many commodities. Responding to this sudden scarcity, the market acted quickly to clear supply and demand by raising prices accordingly: providing smooth, voluntary, and effective rationing of the suddenly scarce goods. The Charleston government, however, swiftly leaped in to prevent "gouging" – grotesquely passing emergency legislation making the charging of higher prices post-Hugo than pre-Hugo a crime, punishable by a maximum fine of $200 and 30 days in jail.

Unerringly, the Charleston welfare state converted higher prices into a crippling shortage of scarce goods. Resources were distorted and misallocated, long lines developed as in Eastern Europe, all so that the people of Charleston could have the warm glow of knowing that if they could ever find the goods in short supply, they could pay for them at pre-Hugo bargain rates.(...)

Thus, the local authorities did the work of Hurricane Hugo intensifying its destruction by preventing people from [p. 97] staying at or returning to their homes, and aggravating the shortages by rushing to impose maximum price controls. But that was not all.

Perhaps the worst blow to the coastal residents was the intervention of those professional fofoes of humanity – the environmentalists.

Last year, reacting to environmentalist complaints about development of beach property and worry about "beach erosion" (do beaches have "rights", too?), South Carolina passed a law severely restricting any new construction on the beachfront, or any replacement of damaged buildings. Enter Hurricane Hugo, which apparently provided a heaven-sent opportunity for the South Carolina Coastal Council to sweep the beachfronts clear of any human beings. Geology professor Michael Katuna, a Coastal Council consultant, saw only poetic justice, smugly declaring that "Homes just shouldn't be right on the beach where Mother Nature wants to bring a storm ashore." And if Mother Nature wanted us to fly, She would have supplied us with wings?