America Should Stop Calling Everything a “Crisis” and Start Funding Boring Solutions
When emergencies become the baseline, response crowds out prevention. The money is already moving—just too often after the damage is done.
By TheMurrow Editorial
February 18, 2026
Key Points
- 1Recognize the new normal: NOAA logged 27 billion-dollar disasters in 2024—constant “crisis” framing turns emergency response into baseline governance.
- 2Follow the incentives: crisis declarations unlock authority and money, but they skew budgets toward recovery while mitigation and maintenance get delayed or cut.
- 3Demand boring reliability: protect data continuity, fund repeat-loss fixes, modern codes, stormwater and utility upgrades—because prevention beats unpredictable loss.
America keeps declaring emergencies the way it used to schedule maintenance.
The language of crisis is now so routine that it barely registers—until the bill arrives. In 2024 alone, NOAA counted 27 weather and climate disasters that each caused at least $1 billion in damage, with total losses estimated at about $182.7 billion and 568 fatalities tied to those billion-dollar events. The country has absorbed big disaster years before, but NOAA ranked 2024 as the fourth-costliest in its dataset, trailing 2017, 2005, and 2022.
27
NOAA counted 27 billion-dollar weather and climate disasters in 2024.
$182.7B
Total losses in 2024 were estimated at about $182.7 billion across NOAA’s billion-dollar events.
568
568 fatalities were tied to NOAA’s 2024 billion-dollar disaster events.
A crisis, by definition, is supposed to be exceptional. Yet FEMA’s own declaration rhythm tells a different story: an average of 164 disasters per year from 2020 to 2024, and 115 declarations from January through October 2025, according to USAFacts’ analysis of FEMA data. Fires are the most common category of declaration since 1980. The emergency has become the baseline.
164/year
USAFacts’ analysis of FEMA data shows an average of 164 disasters per year (2020–2024)—a sign emergencies are no longer exceptional.
What happens when a nation governs as if the house is always on fire? It gets very good at rushing water to the scene. It gets much worse at repairing the wiring.
“The most expensive habit in American government isn’t spending. It’s waiting until spending looks like heroism.”
— — TheMurrow Editorial
The crisis frame: why leaders love it—and why it warps budgets
Crisis language has obvious advantages for elected officials and public managers. A declared emergency can unlock special authorities, compress decision cycles, and justify deficit spending and rapid procurement. Urgency can also help overcome entrenched veto points; “crisis” implies moral clarity and a need for visible action.
The problem isn’t that crises are imaginary. Many are frighteningly real. The problem is that “crisis” has become a governing default, and defaults shape budgets. When the public expects emergency response as the main show, prevention becomes the underfunded opening act—admired in theory, cut in practice.
Governance and risk-management research has long warned about three predictable distortions that follow crisis-driven policymaking.
The problem isn’t that crises are imaginary. Many are frighteningly real. The problem is that “crisis” has become a governing default, and defaults shape budgets. When the public expects emergency response as the main show, prevention becomes the underfunded opening act—admired in theory, cut in practice.
Governance and risk-management research has long warned about three predictable distortions that follow crisis-driven policymaking.
Attention spikes, then it vanishes
Crisis attention is volatile. Headlines and hearings surge, then fade. Maintenance and mitigation projects don’t deliver a dramatic “before/after” clip for the evening news, so they struggle to survive the next political cycle.
A flooded neighborhood makes for urgent television; a modernized stormwater system is mostly invisible. The human brain follows the same pattern. Voters remember the storm, not the culvert.
A flooded neighborhood makes for urgent television; a modernized stormwater system is mostly invisible. The human brain follows the same pattern. Voters remember the storm, not the culvert.
Incentives favor response over prevention
Emergency appropriations and disaster aid are politically legible. Prevention is not. A member of Congress can point to recovery funds after a catastrophe; it is harder to claim credit for a disaster that did not happen.
The result is a quiet but potent incentive mismatch: recovery is rewarded, risk reduction is treated as optional. Over years, that mismatch compounds into larger losses—and more “necessary” emergencies.
The result is a quiet but potent incentive mismatch: recovery is rewarded, risk reduction is treated as optional. Over years, that mismatch compounds into larger losses—and more “necessary” emergencies.
Whiplash interrupts long-term planning
Rapid swings in national priorities can derail the multiyear work that mitigation requires: capital planning, local permitting pipelines, and construction schedules. Communities can end up trapped between short-term response funding and long-term resilience needs, never quite able to finish the boring projects that lower risk.
Disasters aren’t rare shocks anymore. They’re a drumbeat.
The strongest argument against crisis governance is simple arithmetic: the shocks no longer arrive as exceptions. They arrive as a schedule.
NOAA’s widely cited Billion-Dollar Weather and Climate Disasters analysis is one of the clearest signals of the new normal. For 2024, NOAA reported:
- 27 disasters exceeding $1 billion each
- ~$182.7 billion in total costs
- 568 fatalities attributed within those billion-dollar events
- A ranking of 4th-costliest year in the dataset
Those numbers matter because they translate climate risk into a language Washington pretends to speak fluently: dollars, budgets, and tradeoffs.
FEMA declaration counts add another layer. USAFacts reports the U.S. averaged 164 disasters per year (2020–2024), and logged 115 disasters from Jan–Oct 2025. A system designed for the occasional emergency increasingly operates in an “always-on” response posture—a standing crisis.
NOAA’s widely cited Billion-Dollar Weather and Climate Disasters analysis is one of the clearest signals of the new normal. For 2024, NOAA reported:
- 27 disasters exceeding $1 billion each
- ~$182.7 billion in total costs
- 568 fatalities attributed within those billion-dollar events
- A ranking of 4th-costliest year in the dataset
Those numbers matter because they translate climate risk into a language Washington pretends to speak fluently: dollars, budgets, and tradeoffs.
FEMA declaration counts add another layer. USAFacts reports the U.S. averaged 164 disasters per year (2020–2024), and logged 115 disasters from Jan–Oct 2025. A system designed for the occasional emergency increasingly operates in an “always-on” response posture—a standing crisis.
The practical implication: response becomes the default operating model
When emergencies are frequent, the response apparatus grows—staffing, logistics, contracting, communications—because those functions are constantly in use. Meanwhile, mitigation competes for attention against the immediate needs of families whose homes are already damaged.
A response posture is not morally wrong; it’s often lifesaving. The problem is budgetary and strategic. A nation can spend a fortune on sirens and still fail to rebuild the levee.
A response posture is not morally wrong; it’s often lifesaving. The problem is budgetary and strategic. A nation can spend a fortune on sirens and still fail to rebuild the levee.
“If disasters arrive as a drumbeat, treating each one as an exception is not realism—it’s denial.”
— — TheMurrow Editorial
Even the measurement of “crisis costs” is being politicized
A striking development followed NOAA’s 2024 update: NOAA announced it would stop updating the Billion-Dollar Disasters database after the 2024 data year, citing “evolving priorities… and staffing changes.” The decision drew backlash from researchers, insurers, and lawmakers, and it matters for more than academic bookkeeping.
The database has been a rare public tool that helps translate weather extremes into a standardized, comprehensible metric. Pulling the plug doesn’t change the underlying disasters. It changes the ease with which the public can track, compare, and argue about costs.
The database has been a rare public tool that helps translate weather extremes into a standardized, comprehensible metric. Pulling the plug doesn’t change the underlying disasters. It changes the ease with which the public can track, compare, and argue about costs.
Why data continuity matters for “boring” investments
Mitigation depends on patient capital and patient politics. Legislators have to defend projects whose success is a quiet counterfactual: fewer losses, fewer outages, fewer displaced families. Reliable public data makes that defense possible.
Remove or destabilize the measurement, and the debate reverts to anecdote and ideology. That is convenient for anyone who prefers the drama of response to the discipline of prevention.
Remove or destabilize the measurement, and the debate reverts to anecdote and ideology. That is convenient for anyone who prefers the drama of response to the discipline of prevention.
Multiple perspectives deserve airing
NOAA’s stated rationale—priorities and staffing—should not be dismissed out of hand. Agencies routinely triage projects when budgets and personnel tighten. Some critics also argue the database has limitations and may undercount certain kinds of losses or rely on evolving methodologies.
Both can be true: a dataset can be imperfect and still be essential. Ending updates may save staff time in the short run while imposing larger costs on policy clarity, insurance modeling, and public accountability.
Both can be true: a dataset can be imperfect and still be essential. Ending updates may save staff time in the short run while imposing larger costs on policy clarity, insurance modeling, and public accountability.
Key Insight
Pulling a dataset doesn’t change disasters—it changes whether the public can track, compare, and budget for them with shared facts.
The boring math: mitigation often pays, but it’s not magic
The most persuasive case for prevention isn’t moral. It’s financial.
Multiple analyses converge on a consistent conclusion: mitigation is typically cheaper than repeated recovery, even though returns vary by hazard, geography, building stock, and the quality of project selection.
A widely cited benchmark comes from the National Institute of Building Sciences (NIBS). As summarized by Pew, a NIBS update found about $6 saved for every $1 invested in federal mitigation grants (across FEMA, EDA, and HUD programs). NIBS has also highlighted that adopting modern building codes can yield even larger average savings—often cited as roughly $11 saved per $1 invested.
The U.S. Chamber of Commerce has argued for even bigger returns, reporting $13 saved per $1 invested when combining modeled avoided damages with additional modeled economic impacts and cleanup.
Multiple analyses converge on a consistent conclusion: mitigation is typically cheaper than repeated recovery, even though returns vary by hazard, geography, building stock, and the quality of project selection.
A widely cited benchmark comes from the National Institute of Building Sciences (NIBS). As summarized by Pew, a NIBS update found about $6 saved for every $1 invested in federal mitigation grants (across FEMA, EDA, and HUD programs). NIBS has also highlighted that adopting modern building codes can yield even larger average savings—often cited as roughly $11 saved per $1 invested.
The U.S. Chamber of Commerce has argued for even bigger returns, reporting $13 saved per $1 invested when combining modeled avoided damages with additional modeled economic impacts and cleanup.
How to use these ratios responsibly
These are averages and modeled estimates, not guarantees. A poorly chosen project can waste money. A well-designed one can pay back many times over.
Readers should treat the ratios as directional evidence of a pattern, not a blank check. The real policy question is not whether every mitigation project returns $6, $11, or $13. The real question is whether the country is systematically selecting, funding, and completing the projects with the highest expected value.
Readers should treat the ratios as directional evidence of a pattern, not a blank check. The real policy question is not whether every mitigation project returns $6, $11, or $13. The real question is whether the country is systematically selecting, funding, and completing the projects with the highest expected value.
What “boring” looks like in practice
Mitigation rarely sounds heroic. It often looks like:
- Floodplain buyouts that move people out of repeat-loss areas
- Elevating or retrofitting homes to withstand flood and wind
- Culvert and stormwater upgrades that prevent neighborhood-scale flooding
- Utility hardening, including undergrounding where sensible and targeted upgrades to poles and transformers
None of these makes for a stirring speech. They are, however, the difference between a rough storm and a ruinous one.
- Floodplain buyouts that move people out of repeat-loss areas
- Elevating or retrofitting homes to withstand flood and wind
- Culvert and stormwater upgrades that prevent neighborhood-scale flooding
- Utility hardening, including undergrounding where sensible and targeted upgrades to poles and transformers
None of these makes for a stirring speech. They are, however, the difference between a rough storm and a ruinous one.
“The best disaster photo is the one you never take.”
— — TheMurrow Editorial
A case study in incentives: why recovery gets the spotlight
Americans aren’t irrational for focusing on response. Response is tangible: debris removed, checks delivered, lights restored. Prevention asks the public to fund something that feels abstract—until the next storm hits the same street.
The politics follow that psychology. Emergency aid is immediate and visible. Prevention is a promise that requires trust, time, and competence.
The politics follow that psychology. Emergency aid is immediate and visible. Prevention is a promise that requires trust, time, and competence.
The hidden cost of whiplash
Crisis-driven funding can interrupt long-term capital programs. A city may plan a multi-year stormwater overhaul, only to find budgets squeezed after repeated emergencies and shifting state or federal priorities. Contractors and local agencies can’t hire and schedule confidently without predictable funding.
Communities then fall into a punishing loop: underinvest in mitigation, suffer losses, receive recovery aid, rebuild in place, repeat.
Communities then fall into a punishing loop: underinvest in mitigation, suffer losses, receive recovery aid, rebuild in place, repeat.
“Standing crisis” governance breeds brittleness
When the system assumes the next emergency is imminent, it builds operational muscle for response—but can become brittle elsewhere. Maintenance backlogs grow. Infrastructure ages. Insurance markets strain. Households normalize disruption, and policymakers normalize the idea that disruption is unavoidable.
The uncomfortable truth is that constant crisis management can look like competence while quietly eroding national reliability.
The uncomfortable truth is that constant crisis management can look like competence while quietly eroding national reliability.
Building reliability at scale: what a prevention-first budget would prioritize
A prevention-first posture doesn’t mean less compassion after disasters. It means fewer disasters become household catastrophes in the first place.
The strongest mitigation portfolio is not exotic. It prioritizes the unglamorous bottlenecks that repeatedly fail.
The strongest mitigation portfolio is not exotic. It prioritizes the unglamorous bottlenecks that repeatedly fail.
Start where losses repeat
Floodplain buyouts and home elevations are politically difficult because they involve place, identity, and property. Yet repeat-loss areas are where mitigation can be most cost-effective and most humane over time.
Buyouts, done well, should be voluntary, adequately funded, and paired with clear plans for the land afterward—parks, wetlands, and absorption areas that reduce future flooding rather than inviting redevelopment.
Buyouts, done well, should be voluntary, adequately funded, and paired with clear plans for the land afterward—parks, wetlands, and absorption areas that reduce future flooding rather than inviting redevelopment.
Build codes and retrofits: the policy lever hiding in plain sight
NIBS has emphasized the high value of modern building codes—often cited at $11 saved per $1 invested on average. Codes are not a silver bullet, and enforcement quality matters. Still, they represent one of the most scalable resilience tools available because they shape the baseline of what gets built and rebuilt.
Retrofitting existing structures can be harder, but targeted programs—especially for critical facilities and vulnerable housing—often produce outsized benefits.
Retrofitting existing structures can be harder, but targeted programs—especially for critical facilities and vulnerable housing—often produce outsized benefits.
Harden utilities where it’s defensible, not fashionable
Utility hardening has become a catch-all phrase. The smarter version is discriminating: undergrounding where it makes sense, and targeted reinforcement where it doesn’t. Pole and transformer upgrades, vegetation management, and redundancy planning rarely win ribbon cuttings, but they can prevent cascading failures that turn storms into prolonged outages.
What “prevention-first” prioritizes
Focus on repeat-loss areas, modernize and enforce building codes, and harden utilities selectively—so reliability improves before the next declared emergency.
What readers should demand: competence, continuity, and honest metrics
A prevention-first approach is not just a checklist of projects. It’s a standard of governance: predictable funding, stable measurement, and clear accountability for outcomes.
Practical takeaways for citizens and local leaders
Readers who want to push policy in a more resilient direction can look for a few signals:
- Budget balance: Are prevention and mitigation funded consistently, or only after disaster headlines?
- Project completion: Are communities finishing multiyear mitigation projects, or perpetually “planning” them?
- Data transparency: Are disaster costs and outcomes being tracked and published in ways the public can scrutinize?
- Code adoption and enforcement: Are modern codes in place, and do localities have the capacity to enforce them?
- Repeat-loss strategy: Are officials confronting repeat-loss areas with real options—buyouts, elevations, land-use changes—or pretending rebuilding is the only path?
- Budget balance: Are prevention and mitigation funded consistently, or only after disaster headlines?
- Project completion: Are communities finishing multiyear mitigation projects, or perpetually “planning” them?
- Data transparency: Are disaster costs and outcomes being tracked and published in ways the public can scrutinize?
- Code adoption and enforcement: Are modern codes in place, and do localities have the capacity to enforce them?
- Repeat-loss strategy: Are officials confronting repeat-loss areas with real options—buyouts, elevations, land-use changes—or pretending rebuilding is the only path?
Signals of prevention-first governance
- ✓Budget balance that funds mitigation before headlines
- ✓Completed multiyear projects, not perpetual planning
- ✓Transparent, published tracking of disaster costs and outcomes
- ✓Modern codes adopted—and enforced with real capacity
- ✓A concrete strategy for repeat-loss areas beyond rebuilding in place
The role of honest disagreement
Some skepticism toward mitigation spending is healthy. Not every project pencils out, and waste is real. Others worry that resilience policy can become a proxy for unrelated political goals. Those concerns argue for tighter evaluation, not for surrendering to perpetual recovery.
Meanwhile, advocates of aggressive prevention should acknowledge tradeoffs: buyouts disrupt communities; code changes can increase upfront housing costs; infrastructure upgrades take time. The right response is not to hide the costs. The right response is to compare them honestly against the costs we already pay—repeatedly, predictably, and too often without learning.
Meanwhile, advocates of aggressive prevention should acknowledge tradeoffs: buyouts disrupt communities; code changes can increase upfront housing costs; infrastructure upgrades take time. The right response is not to hide the costs. The right response is to compare them honestly against the costs we already pay—repeatedly, predictably, and too often without learning.
The harder question: can America fund the quiet work?
The United States has proven it can mobilize money and authority when a crisis is declared. It has been less willing to fund reliability without the adrenaline.
NOAA’s 2024 numbers—27 billion-dollar disasters, $182.7 billion in losses—should not only prompt grief and resolve. They should prompt an accounting question: how much of that bill reflects hazards we could have reduced, and how much reflects a political system that prefers drama to discipline?
FEMA’s declaration cadence—164 per year on average in recent years—suggests the nation is already paying for a permanent emergency. The choice is not between spending and saving. The choice is between predictable investment and unpredictable loss.
The quiet work is not glamorous. It does not offer a single cinematic moment of national unity. It offers something rarer: fewer funerals, fewer bankruptcies, fewer families displaced, fewer towns rebuilding the same block again.
A country that can finance crisis can finance maintenance. The question is whether it will learn to treat reliability as a form of leadership—especially when no one is watching.
NOAA’s 2024 numbers—27 billion-dollar disasters, $182.7 billion in losses—should not only prompt grief and resolve. They should prompt an accounting question: how much of that bill reflects hazards we could have reduced, and how much reflects a political system that prefers drama to discipline?
FEMA’s declaration cadence—164 per year on average in recent years—suggests the nation is already paying for a permanent emergency. The choice is not between spending and saving. The choice is between predictable investment and unpredictable loss.
The quiet work is not glamorous. It does not offer a single cinematic moment of national unity. It offers something rarer: fewer funerals, fewer bankruptcies, fewer families displaced, fewer towns rebuilding the same block again.
A country that can finance crisis can finance maintenance. The question is whether it will learn to treat reliability as a form of leadership—especially when no one is watching.
“A country that can finance crisis can finance maintenance.”
— — TheMurrow Editorial
T
About the Author
TheMurrow Editorial is a writer for TheMurrow covering opinion.
Frequently Asked Questions
Are disasters really increasing, or are we just noticing them more?
Multiple indicators suggest disasters are frequent and costly. NOAA reported 27 billion-dollar weather and climate disasters in 2024, totaling about $182.7 billion. FEMA declarations also show a steady tempo, averaging 164 disasters per year (2020–2024) per USAFacts. Better reporting can affect visibility, but the sustained volume and cost point to more than perception.
Why do politicians keep calling everything a “crisis”?
Crisis framing speeds action. It can unlock emergency authorities, justify rapid spending, and signal urgency to the public. The downside is that it trains budgets toward response rather than prevention, producing attention spikes and then neglect when headlines move on.
Is disaster mitigation actually worth the money?
Evidence suggests mitigation often has strong returns on average, though results vary by project. NIBS has estimated about $6 saved per $1 invested in federal mitigation grants, and has cited modern building codes as saving around $11 per $1 on average. The U.S. Chamber of Commerce has argued for $13 per $1 in combined modeled benefits. None of these ratios guarantees success for every project.
What kinds of “boring” projects make the biggest difference?
Common examples include floodplain buyouts, home elevation and retrofits, stormwater and culvert upgrades, and utility hardening such as targeted pole/transformer improvements and undergrounding where cost-effective. These projects reduce repeat losses and shorten recovery times, even if they rarely attract attention.
Why does the system tilt toward recovery instead of prevention?
Recovery spending is visible and immediate; prevention is measured by what doesn’t happen. Political incentives reward disaster aid and emergency announcements, while mitigation requires multi-year planning and consistent funding. Crisis governance also creates “whiplash,” interrupting long-term capital programs.
What’s the significance of NOAA ending updates to the billion-dollar disasters database?
NOAA said it would stop updating the database after the 2024 data year due to “evolving priorities” and staffing changes, a move that sparked backlash. The practical concern is that losing a trusted, standardized dataset makes it harder for the public, researchers, and policymakers to track costs and justify long-term investments in mitigation and resilience.
