Imagine the world-famous American breakfast: a stack of pancakes dripping in maple syrup, bacon, eggs, and, of course, a glass of Florida orange juice. But this iconic assemblage is in danger—citrus production in Florida has plummeted 92 percent over the past 20 years. Oranges are among Florida’s most ubiquitous industries, reminiscent of the state’s everlasting sunshine. The state grew up alongside the development of the citrus industry, beginning 500 years ago when citrus was introduced by Spanish colonizers. The citrus industry is responsible for over 33,000 jobs and has an annual economic impact of $6.8 billion in Florida alone, representing about 0.4 percent of the state’s GDP. However, this marks a decrease from 2000, when the industry’s $9.13 billion output accounted for roughly 2 percent of Florida’s GDP.
A major driver of citrus decline in Florida is citrus greening, a lethal disease that kills trees within years of infection. After citrus greening first infected Florida citrus groves in the mid-2000s, 100 percent Florida orange juice became a rarity—brands like Florida’s Natural have largely turned to a mix of juices from Mexico and Brazil. In response, Governor Ron DeSantis has directed tens of millions of dollars to citrus greening research in an attempt to save the industry. However, DeSantis’ focus on citrus greening research represents a broader, state-wide refusal to confront the larger issue plaguing both the citrus industry and Florida as a whole: climate change.
Many orange trees spared by citrus greening fall victim to the intense winds of hurricanes or the biting temperatures of frosts. Climate change is not making hurricanes more frequent, but it is making them more intense. In 2024, Florida faced two major storms, Hurricanes Helene and Milton, within a week of each other. Subsequently, forecasts of citrus production in the state fell drastically. Meanwhile, DeSantis has turned a blind eye to this problem, signing a 2024 law that removes references to climate change from state law while directing funding to research citrus greening.
The effects of climate change are magnified by the state’s booming population. Throughout Florida, countless cookie-cutter single-family homes are springing up to meet residential demands, pressing against the land occupied by citrus groves. Polk County, southwest of Orlando, is the epicenter of the Florida citrus industry and has also witnessed the largest population growth of any county in the country in recent years. Growers in Polk County and elsewhere are faced with a tough decision: sell their groves to make way for residential development, or fight an uphill battle with natural disasters, armed only with a hope and a prayer.
In January, one of the largest citrus growers in the state abandoned the industry, citing a 73 percent decline in the company’s citrus production over the past decade. Some of the land on which the company grew citrus is slated for residential and commercial development in the coming years. The compounded effect of incessant hurricanes and disease has led to the conclusion that Florida is no longer a viable location for citrus growing. Despite the government’s investment in citrus greening research, these efforts are too little, too late. Many experts believe that this eleventh-hour investment in fighting citrus greening will not be realized soon enough to save the plants and does nothing to address the larger issue looming over Florida citrus—climate change. As DeSantis continues to deny climate change, he seals the fate of Florida’s citrus industry.
The citrus industry is doomed, but it is not Florida’s only problem exacerbated by the failure to address climate change. As orange producers leave the state, Florida has seen a similar exodus of private home insurance companies over the past years. As storms intensify, insurers, like citrus producers, see less opportunity to turn a profit in the state. Massive population growth in Polk and other counties has also increased property values, prompting a sell-off of farmland and causing many to be kicked off of their insurance plans. To fill the void, the state legislature created the Citizens Property Insurance Corporation (Citizens) in 2002, a state-run nonprofit that serves as Florida’s insurer of last resort, insuring over one million Floridians with the highest risk properties who traditional insurers have refused to cover. In the event that insurance claims exceed Citizens’ ability to pay, state law allows Citizens to recoup its losses from customers of private insurance plans. This means that the premiums of Floridians on private insurance plans—or 83 percent of insured Floridians —could increase to prevent Citizens’ insolvency.
Last year, Hurricane Milton pushed total insurance claims in Florida to over $100 billion for the fifth year in a row. As storms have increased in power in recent years, each one presents the ominous question: Will this be the one to push Citizens over the edge? This has not happened yet, and as of 2023, Citizens had reserves of $17.8 billion. However, in 2024, Senator Sheldon Whitehouse (D-RI) expressed concern that if Citizens became insolvent, it could seek a federal bailout, thus passing on the burden to Americans at large. Furthermore, as insurers leave the state, millions are left increasingly vulnerable to storm damage. Florida has the highest percentage of coastal properties at risk of hurricane damage, valued at $2.9 trillion or 79 percent of the state’s total insured property by value. This danger has increased precipitously since Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) froze funding for the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA), the federal agency that helps communities survive and rebuild from disasters. Failure to plan for risks associated with climate change-driven storm damage only increases the likelihood of Citizens’ insolvency. Citizens currently covers about 1.2 million Floridians, far more than it is designed to take on, and is trying to shed policies. As millions move to the state and purchase at-risk properties, Citizens faces taking on even more policies. Citizens’ safety net effectively makes Florida a house of cards whose rapid population growth should be seen as a major threat to the economic security of Americans everywhere.
Battered by one disaster after another, the state continues to grow. This combination of devastation and growth has already decimated its most cherished and long-standing industry. Now, the state hangs on the precipice of insurance collapse, one must ask: What will it take to snap people out of the enchantment of the “sunshine state?” What happens in Florida impacts all Americans. Climate change is a problem, and it is not just Florida’s to deal with.
The OJ on Americans’ breakfast tables is only the first casualty of the Florida government’s refusal to acknowledge that times have changed. Soon, it will be the homes of many Floridians, our pocketbooks, and then many more lives.