Op-Ed: Is Rebuilding Neighborhoods Lost In Los Angeles Wildfires Really A Good Idea?

Few people dare to openly acknowledge that 'rebuilding' is not resilience.

Written by Stacey Patton

As wildfires in Los Angeles once again laid waste to homes, businesses, entire landscapes—taking dozens of lives along with them—a meme was making rounds on social media: “Don’t believe in climate change? Insurance companies do.”

It’s a brutal truth wrapped in a joke. Because if there’s one thing capitalism excels at, it’s profiting off a crisis while pretending it never saw it coming—until, of course, it’s time to hike the premiums, cut the coverage, and leave the public holding the bag.

Meanwhile, a chorus of politicians, homeowners, local authorities, and media outlets continue to rally around the familiar mantra: “We will rebuild.” It’s as if this latest inferno is just a temporary setback rather than a harbinger of a permanent shift.

But the truth is that few people dare to openly acknowledge that “rebuilding” is not resilience nor is it a sustainable solution. t is a reckless act of denial about climate change and a futile attempt to preserve the illusion of control in a world that is rapidly becoming unlivable. Extreme heat, droughts, floods, and wildfires are not distant threats. They’re right here in our faces, reshaping vast regions and will force millions of people to relocate.

Recover faster and stronger

California’s Governor Gavin Newsom said he was already “imagining L.A. 2.0” after the smoke clears. He followed up by signing an executive order aimed at fast-tracking cleanup and streamlining the reconstruction of homes and businesses destroyed by the fires.

“When the fires are extinguished, victims who have lost their homes and businesses must be able to rebuild quickly and without roadblocks,” Newsom said.

He added that his executive order will “help cut permitting delays, an important first step in allowing our communities to recover faster and stronger.”

Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass also signed an executive order to speed up the rebuilding of homes and recovery efforts. ABC News reported that local government officials and residents in the affected areas have begun to discuss initial steps to begin the rebuilding process.

Newsom, Bass, and other leaders are pushing full speed ahead on rebuilding because they know big interests have a stake in maintaining the illusion that rebuilding is sustainable. But insurers and climate scientists have already read the writing on the wall—some places cannot be saved. Without significant adaptation, history is doomed to repeat itself at great financial and human cost.

The fire next time

Zoë Schlanger, writing for The Atlantic, makes it clear: “There will be a next fire. The vegetation—fire fuel—will grow back, fire season will keep lengthening into wind season, and the combination of drought and wind will nurse an errant spark. Fire is part of the ecology in California; a century of suppressing it has only set up modern blazes to be more intense.”

Insurers are pulling out, refusing to cover homes in fire zones, floodplains, and hurricane-prone coastlines, because they know these places are rapidly becoming unlivable. It’s happening in California, in Florida, in the Gulf Coast. Yet every time disaster strikes, the conversation follows the same old, tired script—resilience, recovery, rebuild stronger! We’ve witnessed this pattern after every major hurricane, whether it’s Ida, Katrina, Sandy, Harvey, or Ian. The dominant narrative in media and politics is always about resilience, bouncing back, and restoring what was lost. Because apparently, if you just grit your teeth hard enough and believe in the American Dream, you out-muscle fires, floods, and the climate apocalypse.

With all their rhetoric, elected officials keep paving the way for families to walk straight into financial and environmental death traps. Encouraged by promises of swift recovery, they’ll take on new mortgages for homes in areas that insurers are increasingly abandoning. Meanwhile, the government will keep approving building permits in fire-prone zones, perpetuating a cycle of destruction where communities are rebuilt only to burn again. These leaders’ complicity with capitalist interests ensures that banks, developers, and construction firms profit from disaster, while working families are left to shoulder the risks and loss.

People keep clinging to the fantasy that they can reconstruct their homes in the very places that have burned. They think they can slap some new drywall over the ashes or pretend that concrete, some minor fireproofing tweaks, and optimism will somehow hold back the flames, angry wind, and waters next time. After every hurricane, local leaders promise new infrastructure, seawalls, and flood-proofing measures. Billions of federal dollars pour in through FEMA and disaster relief funds, but the solutions are always short-term. People raise their homes on stilts, upgrade drainage systems, and reinforce levees. None of this can stop a Category 5 storm from wiping everything out again. We can’t out-engineer climate change.

It’s delusional.

It’s like believing sheer determination can triumph over nature. It’s as if people believe wildfires and floods care about your can-do attitude. Let’s rebuild so we don’t have to consider the unthinkable: the American way of life—endless expansion, suburban sprawl, unsustainable consumption—must fundamentally change.

Instead of having hard conversations about climate displacement and strategically preparing for massive internal climate migration in America, we double down on the denial and keep pouring billions into rebuilding future ruins and setting the stage for the next catastrophe.

“The guise of revitalization”

These periodic cycles of rebuilding after natural disasters disproportionately affect Black communities where residents have limited resources to rebuild and no real options to leave. The Los Angeles wildfires have devastated Black communities, particularly in Altadena, a historic enclave known for its significant Black homeownership and cultural heritage.

The Eaton Canyon fires destroyed over 1,000 structures, including many Black-owned homes, churches, and businesses. Ruthie Hopkins, former editor and co-owner of The Pasadena Journal, narrowly escaped the flames. The destruction has raised concerns about potential gentrification, as rebuilding costs and insurance challenges may force long-standing Black residents to relocate, altering the community’s demographic fabric as we witnessed in New Orleans in 2005 after Hurricane Katrina, in working-class neighborhoods in New York City after Hurricane Sandy hit in 2012, and in Houston after Hurricane Harvey in 2017.

The Los Angeles wildfires are not just a natural disaster—they are a climate-fueled acceleration of racial and economic displacement that disproportionately harms Black communities already struggling with housing insecurity, gentrification, and unaffordable living conditions. Many Black families in LA, particularly in areas like Altadena, South LA, and Inglewood, face historic housing discrimination, redlining, and systemic disinvestment, leaving them with fewer financial resources to recover from disasters.

Wildfires exacerbate existing inequalities by destroying affordable housing stock, forcing residents to relocate, and making rebuilding costs unattainable. Insurance companies are increasingly refusing to cover fire-prone areas, pushing homeowners into financial ruin, or forcing them to sell their homes. Meanwhile, developers and speculators swoop in, using disaster as an opportunity to buy up land, reshape neighborhoods, and erase Black communities under the guise of “revitalization.”

Beyond LA, climate change is amplifying these patterns nationwide. Rising heat disproportionately impacts Black neighborhoods with less green space and more urban heat islands, worsening public health outcomes. Flooding and hurricanes devastate Black communities from New Orleans to Houston to Miami, where recovery funds and resources are often distributed inequitably.

Without targeted policies that protect Black homeowners and renters, climate change will continue to act as a weapon of racial and economic violence, reshaping cities at the expense of those who have already fought the hardest to stay.

“It is a hellscape”

The devastating Los Angeles wildfires have spared no one, even wealthy Black celebrities have not been immune to the destruction. From multimillion-dollar properties reduced to ash to the emotional toll of losing cherished spaces, a few stars have shared their personal experiences, offering glimpses into the widespread impact of the fires. Their stories serve as a reminder that climate disasters, fueled by worsening conditions, do not discriminate by income—though recovery and rebuilding often do.

Tina Knowles, Beyoncé’s mother revealed that her cherished Malibu bungalow, which she described as her “favorite place” and “sanctuary,” was destroyed by the fires. She expressed deep sadness for others who suffered losses and extended gratitude to firefighters for their bravery.

The singer-songwriter Jhené Aiko disclosed on Instagram that her home, along with all her belongings, was completely burned down. She conveyed a heavy heart but expressed thankfulness for her family’s safety, stating, “Thankful we still have each other… Starting from scratch.”

Bozoma Saint John, the business executive and Real Housewives of Beverly Hills star shared the devastating news that her Malibu dream home was destroyed.

“This is the house I wanted. The house I prayed for. The house I worked in blood, sweat, and tears for,” Saint John wrote in the caption of Instagram post.

Musician John Legend, along with his wife Chrissy Teigen and their children, evacuated their Los Angeles home due to the encroaching wildfires. Teigen shared their experience on social media, describing the situation as a “hellscape” and expressing concern for their community. While their home was not reported as destroyed, the family faced the stress and uncertainty of evacuation.

These stories of loss and displacement—whether it’s a dream home reduced to ash or a family fleeing a “hellscape”—are becoming routine. Year after year, fire, floods, and hurricanes force people to start over, only for disaster to strike again. And yet, we cling to the same script, convinced that rebuilding is the answer, that normalcy can be restored if we just pour in enough money, enough effort, enough wishful thinking.

But at some point, we must face reality: we are fighting a losing battle. Whether by fire or water, the reckoning is coming. It’s time to stop trying to rebuild and start asking the real question: Where will we go? Because the question isn’t, How do we rebuild? It’s, Why are we still pretending we can?