Z
illow’s brief foray into climate‑risk labeling began in early 2024 when the company added a 1‑to‑10 score to each home listing, reflecting potential future threats from flooding, wildfires, wind, heat, and air quality. The idea was simple: give buyers a quick gauge of how climate change might affect their new property. A three‑bedroom Cape Cod house near the coast might carry a nine‑point flood risk, prompting a cautious buyer to pass. Zillow’s own analytics showed that many shoppers were already weighing climate alongside square footage, schools, and curb appeal, so the platform’s chief economist, Skylar Olsen, declared climate risk a “critical factor” in home‑buying.
However, the rollout hit a snag. Realtors and sellers complained that the scores were depressing sales, especially in high‑risk areas. The backlash was swift: within months, Zillow removed the climate risk data from its listings. The move illustrates a broader pattern—real‑estate stakeholders often resist publicizing climate forecasts because they can hurt property values. Yet the risks themselves do not vanish when the data is hidden.
In the United States, populations continue to grow in flood‑prone, heat‑intense, drought‑prone, and fire‑prone regions. Federal agencies, under the Trump administration, have even scrubbed climate references from official sites. Local examples echo this trend: Clear Lake, Texas, once posted storm‑surge markers after Hurricane Ike, but the signs were removed after sales slowed. North Carolina outlawed a sea‑level‑rise forecast that projected long‑term coastal flooding, opting for a shorter‑term model instead.
Despite these efforts to downplay risk, banks, insurers, and buyers still need accurate information. The U.S. residential market, worth $55 trillion, is increasingly battered by disaster damage. Marc Ragin, a disaster‑risk researcher at the University of Georgia, argues that withholding data harms everyone but Zillow, because buyers cannot make informed decisions about their most expensive purchase.
The value of climate risk information becomes clear when communities act on it. The Tahoe Fund, a nonprofit focused on the Lake Tahoe basin, launched a pilot to create the “most fire‑ready community in Tahoe.” They partnered with the Tyrolian Village homeowners association in Incline Village, Nevada—a pine‑forested town of 9,000 residents with an average home price of $1.4 million. Using sophisticated fire‑risk models tailored to the local landscape, the Fund identified high‑priority homes and provided individualized assessments, to‑do lists, and grants for mitigation measures such as fuel‑load reduction, defensible space creation, and fire‑resistant upgrades.
The results were tangible: Tyrolian Village’s insurance premiums fell by one‑third. Amy Berry, the Fund’s director, emphasizes that targeted, technology‑driven interventions can yield the biggest impact without requiring every homeowner to act. Yet engagement remains uneven; only about 50 of the 228 residents opened their risk reports, highlighting a persistent behavioral barrier.
Insurance dynamics further underscore the stakes. In California, insurers are dropping customers whose properties sit in high‑risk wildfire zones. Florida and Louisiana have seen private insurers exit the market or file for bankruptcy. The federally backed National Flood Insurance Program is hemorrhaging billions. Thus, projects that demonstrably reduce risk are not only socially responsible but also economically prudent.
Risk forecasts, however, are not guarantees. Some homes outside designated flood zones still flood, while others in high‑risk areas remain dry. Nonetheless, even a general sense of where risks concentrate can inform infrastructure planning—storm drains, seawalls, and building codes. Buyers who incorporate climate assessments into inspections can check for fire‑resistant materials, proper drainage, and other resilience features, alongside traditional checks for termites or foundation cracks.
Research indicates that belief in climate change itself can influence property values. In communities where residents acknowledge rising temperatures, homes sell for less than in areas where climate change is dismissed, even if the physical risk is similar. Moreover, people often forget past disasters, rebuilding in the same vulnerable spots, which compounds future exposure.
The core challenge is human behavior. While forecasting climate impacts and developing adaptation strategies are essential, getting stakeholders—buyers, sellers, insurers, and policymakers—to engage with the data is the hardest part. Concealing risk may offer short‑term sales gains for sellers, but it ultimately delays necessary adaptation and exposes homeowners to greater losses when disasters strike.
In sum, Zillow’s experiment shows that climate risk data can shape market dynamics, but resistance from the real‑estate industry can suppress its availability. Communities that embrace risk assessments, like Tyrolian Village, demonstrate that targeted mitigation can lower insurance costs and enhance resilience. Yet widespread adoption hinges on shifting perceptions and encouraging proactive engagement with climate realities.
