Kick Ass: Selected Columns of Carl Hiaasen

True, Hurricane Andrew's wreckage revealed widespread illegal construction practices and egregious non-enforcement of the building codes. True, these were crimes inflicted on thousands of homeowners, crimes that have caused horrible suffering and financial ruin.

And, true, not one contractor responsible for the damage has lost his license. Not one inspector who approved the shoddy work has been punished.

But that's only because authorities decided to set an ingenious trap, one that required patience.

Sure, it would have been easy to rush in and prosecute a few lousy builders after their Tinker-Toy subdivisions blew apart in the hurricane. It would have been simple to collect the defective trusses and holey shingles, and then show a jury the right way to put on a roof.

It would have been easy, all right. Too easy. And it would have spoiled the secret plan.

Think about it. Indicting crooked builders too soon after Hurricane Andrew might have scared off many of the thieves and con men masquerading as legitimate contractors who stampeded Florida to cash in on the storm.

So authorities shrewdly decided to lie low and pretend they weren't interested in what was happening in South Dade. They knew it would soon be a bonanza of sleaze. They knew that there weren't enough honest builders to go around, that people desperate to have their homes rebuilt would eventually turn to unscrupulous strangers.

And they were right. Each day since Andrew has brought new reports of outrageous rip-offs and incompetent workmanship. Many homeowners have lost all their insurance money to fly-by-night vagabonds. Since August, the DPR's Miami office has logged a 1,800 percent increase in complaints against contractors.

For state investigators, the waiting has paid off. They now have a much larger number of cases to choose from, and therefore a much better chance of actually winning one or two.

Unfortunately, it won't help the thousands of people fleeced by shady operators during the last 11 months. Thousands more won't realize that they also have been conned until another hurricane hits and their roofs fly off like a bad hat.

But don't worry. When that happens, the state of Florida will be there again, ready to swoop in with crack investigators and prosecutors. You might not see them for, oh, the first 10 or 11 months after the disaster, but that doesn't mean they don't care.

No, they're just lying low, waiting for the trap to spring.

Government can't be trusted to enforce codes December 30, 1993

Finally, thanks to Hurricane Andrew, an insurance company gets wise.

United States Fidelity and Guaranty (USF&G) has announced that it will begin inspecting every home it insures for potential storm losses. In other words, company-paid experts will do the job once entrusted to local building officials.

It makes good sense, given the scandal of Andrew. The wonder is that more insurance companies aren't doing the same thing.

The hurricane tragically confirmed that government cannot be relied upon to enforce building codes, especially in areas of uncontrolled growth. Andrew turned South Dade into a panorama of devastation, much of it caused by lousy construction and a lack of competent code enforcement.

The insurance industry took its worst beating ever, paying out $16.5 billion in claims. We know what happened next: sharp rate increases, and attempted mass cancellations of Florida policies. Most insurers have restricted or even stopped insuring new homes in coastal regions.

That's one way to cut losses, the cold-blooded way. It unfairly punishes people with well-built houses and also punishes honest home builders. The USF&G experiment is more humane and ultimately smarter for the industry: Its own inspectors will rate the houses.

Consider how fussy these firms are about auto insurance. The annual premiums on a new Ferrari are thousands more than those on a 5-year-old Tercel. Why? The sports car is a bigger investment, and statistically a bigger risk.

It seems logical, then, that insurers would view a high-risk house with even greater concern. A house, say, built with no hurricane straps. Or too few nails in the shingles. Or defective gables.

But until Hurricane Andrew, insurance companies seldom asked questions about the quality of construction in most subdivisions. As long as a house passed local inspection, getting a policy was virtually automatic. Everybody made money, everybody was happy.

Andrew spoiled the party. The insurance industry was shell-shocked by the extent of unnecessary destruction, and by its own studies predicting losses would be three times higher if a storm hit Miami directly.

It was evident that Dade County had failed, spectacularly, to make sure its housing was safe from hurricane winds. In several areas, code enforcement had been a costly charade.