The annual FEMA-NOAA hurricane season briefing has an almost ceremonial quality. Senior officials convene, comforting words are disseminated, and a line like “we’re ready” almost immediately appears in a press release. It was the same this year. Earlier this month, FEMA’s Senior Official Performing the Duties of the Administrator, Robert J. Fenton Jr., appeared in front of cameras to convey precisely that message: composed, methodical, and self-assured. “It’s in our DNA,” he stated regarding being ready for hurricanes. The words came out easily. However, genuine preparedness and well-spoken words are not always the same.
A few days later, Sabotaging Our Safety, an advocacy group, held its own press conference. The agency received a F in four crucial categories on their FEMA Readiness Scorecard. Rafael Lemaitre, the former director of Public Affairs at FEMA, was one of the speakers. Although he doesn’t have a political agenda, he is well-versed in the inner workings of the organization. Representative Mihaela Plesa of Texas stood next to him and stated bluntly, “Texas families have lived through hurricanes, floods, winter storms, and wildfires.” They cannot afford delays brought on by federal readiness gaps, canceled preparedness contracts, or mass layoffs. When it comes from someone who has witnessed her constituents recover from disasters with federal assistance that came either too slowly or not at all, the final word—readiness—carries weight.
When the official briefing and the critics are combined, a truly complex picture is revealed. On paper, FEMA’s reported figures—more than 300,000 pre-positioned generators, more than 7 million meals, and 3 million liters of water available for use—are not insignificant. Over a million emergency managers and first responders received training during the past year. These are actual resources. Pretending otherwise would be unjust. However, resources are meaningless if those in charge of them have been fired, distribution contracts have been frozen, and leadership positions remain unfilled ahead of what forecasters predict will be another intense storm season.
The choice to abandon a recently created hurricane response plan and return to the 2024 guidelines is arguably the most telling. At least not in public, the rationale behind that call has not been made very apparent. The 2024 plan might actually have been sufficient. The decision might also indicate something less comforting, such as an agency that was overworked and unable to complete new guidelines in time for the season. The possibility of both explanations coexisting is one of the reasons this situation merits close observation.
The formal language of official briefings often obscures a larger problem. According to research that is still depressingly current, an American Meteorological Society forum on hurricane preparedness discovered that “reliance on weather prediction and evacuation is increasingly strained” because coastal populations are expanding more quickly than forecast accuracy and evacuation capacity can keep up.
It takes 72 hours to simply evacuate cities like New Orleans. Every year, as more people approach the water, that window gets smaller. Pre-positioned supplies are not enough to close that gap; skilled decision-makers who are aware of the subtleties of each region’s vulnerabilities are also necessary. Risks that don’t become apparent until a storm is 48 hours away arise from losing experienced personnel at any point in that chain.
One week into hurricane season, it’s difficult to avoid feeling a subtle, low-level uneasiness as you watch all of this. It would be premature to panic. However, the discrepancy between official assurance and credible criticism is so great that it would be foolish for coastal residents to assume federal readiness this year. It is possible to stage the supplies. The question is whether the people, plans, and institutional experience that surround them are still in place.
