From Tornado Alley to the burning West, from the saturated South to the nor’easter-prone North, natural disasters are bearing down on the U.S. with disconcerting regularity. But these natural disasters are disastrous only because we are in their path. With the bill for 2017’s hurricanes, wildfires, and other catastrophic weather events hitting $306 billion in damages, perhaps it’s time to reset our expectations about how and where we build.

On the East Coast, “there is no conceivable way to get around the fact that eventually we will have to retreat,” says Orrin Pilkey, professor emeritus of geology at Duke University and coauthor of The Rising Sea. “Sea levels will rise at least three feet in this century,” he says, citing a majority consensus among the scientific community. Under these circumstances—hurricanes or no—cities like Miami and Charleston are gone.

Republican Rep. Mark Sanford, whose district includes part of Charleston, isn’t ready to order the U-Hauls quite yet. “Where there is no man-made investment, let nature take its course,” he says. But it becomes more complicated when facing the prospect of “substantial levels of public and private investment” being lost, he adds. Democratic Rep. Frederica Wilson of Miami wants solutions to sea level rise now: “Among the many legislative and policy options available, such as elevating roads and expanding the construction of dykes, we should discuss a managed coastline retreat,” she says. How that could happen is a key question. Says Sanford: “What you can’t do is say, ‘I’m going to save my beach house at all costs, and I’m going to use your money to do so.’”

Taxpayers are footing much of the bill to help California, Texas, Florida, Puerto Rico, and other places recover from 2017’s fury. But questions are growing louder as to why they are paying to save homes from recurrent wildfires and rebuild condos that flood year after year. “The question is the degree of repetition,” says Sanford. But deciding where to restrict building isn’t easy: Almost 40 percent of the country live in counties prone to coastal flooding, and a third of all housing developments are adjacent to combustible wildlands, including 60 percent of new housing.

In the West, the question of repetition is becoming more pressing. Sonoma County’s 2017 Tubbs fire burned thousands of homes built on the ashes of a community destroyed by the Hanley fire in 1964. “People thought, ‘Oh, there are really nice views here—we’ll rebuild,’” says Bill Stewart of UC Berkeley’s Center for Fire Research and Outreach. David Ropeik, author of How Risky Is It, Really?, says, “If there’s a benefit to living in a place, we downplay or ignore the risk.” From natural beauty to family history to the financial hardships of resettling, there are many reasons people refuse to leave their communities. “Even if one has the option to move, there are disincentives,” says Ropeik. “We lose the empowerment of familiarity. Familiarity means control, comfort.”

If giving up on coastal cities and keeping California development out of forestland isn’t likely to happen any time soon, we could start by building smarter and stronger. According to a study of three federal agencies by the National Institute of Building Sciences, every $1 the state invests in disaster mitigation saves $6 in future costs. “If our taxes are not being spent to mitigate risk, they’re being wasted,” says James Whittle of the American Insurance Association.

Experts also agree that we need to start pricing in the risk of where we live. While the FEMA-managed National Flood Insurance Program currently offers protection to homeowners in flood zones, its $25 billion debt is not sustainable. “I’ve warned people on the coast to watch out for escalating federal flood insurance prices,” says Sanford. In California, Stewart has already seen private insurance policies cancelled after wildfires, in some cases forcing the state to step in. Whittle says, “If the rates don’t reflect risk, somebody is paying. The question is, who is that somebody?”