Cycles of displacement: an initial examination of housed residents and floating populations on postbuyout land

In the U.S., local governments implement buyout programs to relocate people out of high-risk floodplains. Structures are demolished, and the acquired land is managed as open space. Increasingly, these buyout programs are being discussed as a climate adaptation technique in response to sea level rise and increased hazard exposure. However, as the availability of affordable housing has continued to decline across much of the U.S., these open spaces attract new floating populations who lack access to permanent housing. As a result, buyout open spaces in central Texas are now sites for unsanctioned temporary housing including tent encampments. Drawing from extensive field observations and semi-structured interviews with government personnel, homeowners in buyout neighborhoods, and residents experiencing homelessness, we describe the experiences of and tensions among these groups, all of which are affected by displacement associated with measures intended to reduce hazard risk. This study is the first to examine the interconnection between buyout open space and homelessness. Specifically, we introduce the Resident Engagement Matrix, which describes the range of observed relationships between housed residents and floating populations in buyout areas, ranging from elements of neighboring with acceptance to active removal. This research contributes to our understanding of the dynamics and consequences of housing displacement by examining the little-understood interface between post-disaster relocations, homelessness, and flood risk.

Home buyout programs are intended to reduce or eliminate hazard risk by permanently relocating residents from areas considered to be at high or chronic risk, prohibiting future habitation of those areas, and restricting those high-risk lands to uses that mitigate risk for surrounding households and communities (FEMA, 2008). However, research has demonstrated that the efficacy of these interventions is often limited due to the scale of climate-induced disasters, complications with household relocations, and challenges associated with the successful long-term management of land acquired through buyouts.

Nationally, the intersection between buyout programs and the ongoing housing affordability crisis represents an additional and understudied complication in this space. Households that relocate through a home buyout program must find new housing, and research has shown that these residents may face considerable challenges related to housing choice and availability (McGhee et al., 2020). Likewise, buyout programs can reduce the local housing supply and the local tax base (BenDor et al., 2020). Housing challenges are perhaps most acutely evident in unhoused populations, as people experiencing homelessness are, at a basic level, people who have been priced out of the housing market. The National Alliance to End Homelessness reports that homelessness in the U.S. increased by 18% between 2023 and 2024, and 7.2 million households are considered at risk of homelessness due to housing costs that exceed 50% of their household income (National Alliance to End Homelessness, 2025). This has resulted in, among other consequences, an increase in “unsheltered homelessness,” a category that includes living outdoors, in a tent or tent encampment, or in places considered unsuitable for human habitation such as a car or abandoned building. The experience of homelessness is an experience of displacement, first from a permanent home, and potentially later as a consequence of policies and practices such as “sweeps,” or the forcible removal of tent encampments (Karamouzian et al., 2026; National Law Center on Homelessness and Poverty, 2017b). In this sense, there are notable parallels between the experience of homelessness and the experience of home buyout programs, both of which result in relocation and potentially precarious living situations.

The purpose of this paper is to present a novel, initial examination of the interconnections between home buyouts and homelessness, an issue that has not previously been addressed in the literature and which warrants additional future research. In this introductory analysis, we evaluate how displacement is experienced and navigated across the buyout landscape among households in peripheral communities surrounding buyout areas and unhoused residents who occupy land acquired by buyout programs, with a focus on understanding the social dynamics between these groups. Additionally, we present a preliminary analysis of experiences of disaster-influenced displacement that suggests displacement through home buyouts and the experience of homelessness are more interwoven than previously identified in the literature.

Through extensive field work in central Texas from 2024–2026, we observed encampments and other temporary or unsanctioned settlements in buyout open space and adjacent waterways and open spaces, specifically in urban areas such as Austin (the focus of this paper) and San Antonio, Texas. In these spaces, people displaced from the broader housing market have established semi-permanent homes on land from which other residents were previously permanently displaced due to flood hazard risk. Here, we use the phrases floating residents or floating populations after (Bloom, 2001) to include individuals who are living in a tent, car, or recreational vehicle, recognizing that some of these individuals had been living in these locations for several years at the time of data collection.

From 2024 to 2026, our research team conducted three site visits to 16 neighborhoods in Austin, Texas, that experienced home buyouts between 2000 and 2015. The site visits included nonparticipant observation of post-buyout land use (Zavar et al., 2026), visits to current and former encampments in and near buyout open space, door-to-door resident surveys (n = 142), and semi-structured interviews with homeowners (n = 15) and floating residents (n = 6) living in buyout neighborhoods. Our fieldwork included extensive explorations of postbuyout lands, as well as surrounding wooded and underdeveloped areas. Although our study team did not locate active encampments on buyout land, there was evidence in adjacent wooded areas, creek beds, and drainage culverts of previously active encampments. Instead of this clustered shelter pattern, we observed a more dispersed occupation of the buyout land where people were living out of cars, RVs, and tents spaced out across open spaces (Figure 1). In addition, we conducted semi-structured interviews with representatives from local government agencies and nonprofit organizations associated with the buyouts or related housing programs (n = 7, lasting one to three hours) (Creswell and Creswell, 2017), which provide additional context for the primary research questions addressed in this paper. This study was approved by [redacted] IRB (redacted IRB protocol #) and carried out in accordance with the approved IRB protocol.

The resident surveys ran approximately 10 min in length and focused on how people interact with post-buyout land and their preferences for its management. The semi-structured interviews gained deeper insight into how the post-buyout open space is perceived by those residing in the buyout neighborhoods, addressed perceived management challenges associated with the buyout open space, and explored how people, including both housed residents and floating populations, use the open space left after buyouts. The semi-structured interviews also asked residents about their knowledge of the flood history of the area, perceived risks (i.e., flood, extreme heat, and crime), and what features initially attracted them to live in the neighborhood. Interviews conducted with floating residents residing on buyout open space included additional questions about their relationships with housed neighbors. The semi-structured interviews spanned 30 to 60 min and were conducted either in person or by phone. Interviews were recorded with permission and transcribed for data analysis (McLellan et al., 2003). For the one resident who declined audio recording, extensive notes were taken by two members of the research team during the interview. To improve the reliability and validity of the collected data, we triangulated findings between observations, survey results, and interview content (Stake, 2010). We also followed up with interview participants after the interview to verify our data analysis. Interview participants were predominantly white with 50% participants identifying as male, 50% identifying as female, and all participants but one were between the ages of 40 to 65 years.

From these data sources, we utilized inductive coding to identify how displacement is experienced across the buyout landscape and among homeowners and floating residents (Saldaña, 2015). Specifically, we coded for interactions between sheltered and floating residents and examined word choices to describe emotions and experiences related to those interactions (Appendix A). Additionally, we coded for elements related to housing instability, affordability, accessibility of housing options, and risk perception which all contribute to a negative feedback cycle of displacement. To improve intercoder reliability, we developed a comprehensive codebook that defined inclusion and exclusion criteria for each code, routinely reviewed for coding discrepancies as a group to recalibrate researchers to the codebook, and although rare, we used consensus discussions to negotiate disagreements in the application of the coding structure. We then triangulated our findings across study participants, instrument types, and supplemented with referenced news and technical reports to increase the validity and reliability of our findings (Stake, 2010).

Study site

Although housing affordability and hazard-induced relocations are impacting cities across the United States, Austin, Texas, presents as a unique case study as these forces became prominent local issues in recent decades. From 2010 to 2022, the Austin metropolitan area was the fastest growing in the U.S. based on U.S. Census data (Chudwin, 2026). Affordable housing options could not maintain pace as the population rose by about 25% during this period. Despite local policies aimed at addressing this housing shortage, between 2010 and 2019 rents rose by about 93 percent, and of the 54,000 new housing units constructed between 2018 and 2023, only 40 percent were classified as affordable based on median family income for the city (Chudwin, 2026).

As with national averages, the number of homeless residents in Austin steadily increased since 2007 (Aldridge, 2025; de Sousa and Henry, 2024). According to Point-in-Time Count (PIT Count) data, which reflects an annual single-night count of persons experiencing homelessness mandated by the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development, the number of people experiencing homelessness in Austin or surrounding Travis County increased from 1,490 in 2019 to 2,975 in 2024, an increase of 99.7% (NHIP, 2024). PIT counts, however, are generally considered to result in a significant underestimation of actual homeless populations (National Law Center on Homelessness and Poverty, 2017a). Estimates from an Austin-based network of homelessness services providers estimates that the actual number of people experiencing homelessness in 2024 was 6,235, up from 3,024 in 2019 (ECHO, 2026). Most people in the county experiencing homelessness are unsheltered as Austin can only provide about 1,200 beds in emergency shelters. The 2022 demographic data indicates that Black Austin residents are six times more likely to experience homelessness than White Austin residents. Additionally, 11% of individuals in Austin experiencing homelessness are veterans, 10% are families with children, and 35% are survivors of domestic violence (ECHO, 2026). The majority (59%) of people experiencing homelessness in Austin were born or raised in the city.

In the background of these housing challenges, which continue to displace people from the security of their homes, at least 10% of the City of Austin is located in a moderate to high risk floodplain as classified by the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) (City of Austin, 2026). Due to long histories of exclusionary housing policies based on race, ethnicity and income, neighborhoods in the urban inland floodplains are more likely occupied by lower-income households and People of Color (POC) (Moga, 2020). Moreover, Texas has experienced more flood-related deaths between 1959 to 2019 than any other state in the country (Han and Sharif, 2021). Known as flash flood alley, central Texas is prone to the rapid rise of flood waters as observed during the deadly July 4, 2025 Hill Country floods where the Guadalupe River rose over 25 feet in under two hours (Hurt, 2025), resulting in the tragic loss of 139 lives (National Weather Service Releases New Report on Deadly Central Texas Floods, 2026).

Austin is situated in the Colorado River Basin, which drains the Hill Country region down elevation to the Gulf of Mexico (Anderson, 2013). Due to its location, Austin has a long history of dangerous flood events throughout the 20th century. More modern floods of note include the deadly events of October 1998, July 2002, July 2007, and July 2013, all of which were fed by torrential rainfall that inundated the city within hours (Anderson, 2013). In an attempt to reduce repetitive flood damage, the City of Austin instituted several home buyout programs since the 1998 flood event which presently span across 13 neighborhoods and total approximately one kilometer 2 (247 acres) in area. The resulting open space is managed by the local government and the land use ranges from restored wildflower meadows for pollinators to vacant lots with minimal management (Vanucchi et al., 2025; Zavar and Hagelman, 2016).

Homelessness policies and practices in Austin

In understanding the intersection between homelessness and home buyouts in Austin, it is helpful to understand the current policy context and local practices related to homelessness. Homelessness has steadily risen in Austin, Texas since 2019, but in 2023, in the aftermath of the COVID-19 pandemic, homelessness rose by nearly 2000 people (ECHO, 2026). Part of this dramatic shift is likely due to the Travis County COVID-19 eviction moratorium which suppressed evictions between March 2020 to February 2022. Numerous factors contribute to the risk for homelessness, but in Austin, increasing eviction rates and rent prices have been identified as significant drivers for homelessness (ECHO, 2026).

Though this study does not address the issue of homelessness or encampment policy directly, we should note that during our fieldwork, the City of Austin was actively preparing to institute a significant policy shift in their management of encampments, with policy changes scheduled to be enacted beginning May 11, 2026. Citing public pressure1 in addition to concerns about health and safety, local media reported that the City identified over 60 encampment sites for “sweeps,” meaning forcible removal of all persons and belongings in the area (Sanders, 2026). In our research, local advocates and city officials with intimate knowledge of the issue raised concerns about this approach, as the number of people experiencing homelessness exceeds the City’s capacity to provide shelter and other appropriate resources. Nationally, other cities are taking similar actions despite a recognized disparity in critical resources for people who are removed from encampments, including major metropolitan areas like San Franscico, California, and midsized cities like Allentown, Pennsylvania (Addy, 2025; Knight, 2026). At the same time, other communities such as Denver, Colorado, are creating sanctioned encampments by designating space and also offering wrap around services to help floating residents gain more stability (Orr et al., 2025).

In Austin, several of the encampments reportedly targeted for closure are near, though only one directly overlaps with, buyout zones (Figure 2), which suggests that the local government’s initial priorities with regard to encampment closures are focused on areas of the city that have not been affected by buyouts. Still, our findings suggest a relationship between home buyouts, post-buyout open space, and floating populations, including people experiencing homelessness. Here, we offer an introductory exploration of the phenomenon of post-buyout open space being informally repopulated by floating populations, an issue that has not previously been identified in the literature.

In the following section, we examine the social dynamics between sheltered and floating residents using a Resident Engagement Spectrum (RES) that reflects behavioral themes that emerged from our data. Themes emerged from the data that reflect a range of emotional responses to and actions towards floating populations, including individuals living in tents, cars, and RVs. These themes are illustrated in the RES (see Figure 3) and range from rejection through the active removal of homeless encampments to neighboring behaviors. It is important to note that the RES captures a range of actions, opinions, and behaviors, and that one individual could enact the full spectrum of actions at different times or in different contexts. Following the RES, we present our results below beginning with housed residents and concluding with floating residents who occupy buyout open space.

Homeowners’ relationship to floating populations

Active removal

Active removal included efforts by housed neighbors to physically dismantle, dissuade, or prevent the establishment or continuation of encampments, as well as other “unwanted activities,” such as dumping. This was reflected in descriptions of a level of ongoing vigilance among housed neighbors, including through the reporting of any new activity to city officials (one government employee described the “very active” non-emergency 311 phoneline and explained, “we do get customer complaints either through 311 or they’ll call the…department directly… for a concern.”). Additionally, homeowners supported the installation of physical barriers to block access to areas where tent camps or other nonpermanent housing were located (see Figure 1), which they viewed as an effective tool to remove and prevent the return of encampments.

[My neighbors will] call.and say, ‘hey, I saw a tent over there, do you want to go check it out?’ I would say it probably happened like once every six months or so, it’s not that often, but when it is, you know it’s like one [floating person] will come and then more [floating people] will come so we try to just take care of it when we can.

It got to the point where there were just too many campers out there… and they had…dogs and they eventually start making their own fences. And so, we are like, okay, we cannot…it’s became too big of a problem.

Very soon after the last house was demolished, we asked the city to put the gates up at the entrance because people were dumping mattresses and all kinds of stuff back there. So, we were trying to prevent that… and it was just people that really cared that we were like, okay, we see what’s happening across [the highway] and there’s homeless encampments, and…you walk through there and there’s just needles everywhere. How do we prevent that from coming to our side?

Now for a while, there [were] a lot of cars and a lot of activity here at night, but once they closed off access to the dead end [streets with bollards] that stopped. So, right after I guess it flooded and all the houses got bought out, there was a huge issue with dumping… But once [those streets were] closed, I’d say 90% of the problems, all the dumping went away. And, that also blocked off the homeless problem because there [were] a lot of issues with homeless campers and encampments right in the back over here. And it got so bad that they had been building…their own little, like, shanty towns inside of the forest and they did not keep it clean.

By pursuing encampment closures and the installation of physical barriers to block access, housed residents participated in the active removal floating residents and their possessions from their neighborhoods.

Harmful language

Harmful language manifested as relatively direct commentary about individuals experiencing homelessness, as well as more veiled statements reflecting fear, bias, or other underlying negative views, such as assumptions or inferences that people experiencing homelessness are dangerous. One long-term housed resident shared, “they get drugs from the cars and turn tricks in the dark areas of the street [along the buyout open space].” When asked about the current management of the open space, a housed resident stated, “I’m fucking pissed…those people come up to my house and…on my property…so I keep my shovel close.” Themes across these comments included concerns about the size of encampments and the presence or assumption of dangerous or illegal activities within encampments.

I do not want somebody pushing their stroller along the trail and being within five feet of somebody in a tent with weapons and not knowing it. So, we really try to keep that out. And it’s not like it’s been hard, but I do worry when they clear out other encampments that they’ll just scatter. So, I’d say that’s my number one [concern] and with that comes safety…

The top three challenges, I would say, probably number one is going to be homeless camps, as we are trying to ensure that [our] buyout area remains well taken care of and clean and everything like that. We really work hard for that. Right across the street there used to be a big homeless encampment, and so it’s really just, it’s a struggle.

There is not anyone making any camps in [the buyout open space]. So, I think it does help contribute to the feeling of safety around here.

In some cases, concerns were tied to a single individual who was viewed as disordered, disruptive, or dangerous. One participant described an individual who had been living in his car by saying, “ He’s just a nuisance. And there’s something off about him.” A resident in a different community shared:

Well, we had a gentleman that was living in the encampment across [the highway] from us… and he would actually come over into [our] area and, like, hit a machete against the garden. I mean, it was … pretty alarming things he was doing. He was not mentally stable… So, we worked for probably five plus years to try to get that taken care of.

Coexistence within normative parameters

Despite the use of harmful language and support of various dissuasion efforts reported by some study participants, our data reflected a level of acceptance of floating residents, provided they operate within normative standards set by housed residents. This often manifested in comments about avoiding drug use and keeping camping areas free from trash.

There’s still some concern over certain, some people that come out here and they kind of like, they do stay and they, like, you know, homeless people or people that have campers and things like that. And it’s still kind of an ongoing issue that it’s not always kept clean and stuff like that.

A lot of people will say, okay, you are just opposing homeless camps. I’m like, no, I’m opposing if it’s unsafe, if there’s drug use, … if we find needles, things like that. That’s what I’m opposed to. But … if we can live together in the world, I’m fine with that.

Because there has been a lot of construction on the upper side of the creek, on the cliff side of the creek, that has forced out all the transients that used to live there. And we used to have on the order of about seven to 10 transient camps, each one having somewhere between, oh, say, eight to 20 people in it. And because of the construction up there, it’s removed all of those. So, … I’m not concerned with the…, transients causing any trouble. Although, I have had a couple of them sleep underneath my back porch. Okay. And, … when it’s cold and wet, and this is a easy to access dry spot. And if you, if you go in the back corner [of the yard], you can pull some… Styrofoam… coolers and stuff around you, and you can stay warm. So… they have never stolen anything. So, I do not mind.

In general, housed participants seemed more accepting of individuals who were living in cars or recreational vehicles, as opposed to tents.

The homeless that we have now, … we have got some campers, been there for a while, not ideal, but you know, they, to a point, keep their areas clean. They’re not catching fire, you know, they are not… cooking meth… I used to, would go up and introduce myself, and say, well, basically, here’s the rules, uh, keep stuff clean, leave us [housed residents] alone, you know, do not, do not burn the neighborhood down.

There’s a lot of, …I call them car campers. And those are the ones I advocate for. It’s like the car campers. And that’s kind of a gray area because you have no overnight parking. They know the powers that be in the city, not the high, high up, although some of them know too, know that we are of the [notion that] as long as they keep their stuff clean and aren’t trashing it, we do not really care. They got to go somewhere. And this is a safe place. And it’s a really nice, peaceful place.

One resident even noted that the presence of floating residents in cars made her feel safer.

So, I do know there are some people that do stay in their cars. Like it’s in a very unfortunate position that they are in, but as long as they keep their area clean, you know, I do not mind their presence. It’s actually, it makes it safer for me to be able to walk around having other people around here.

Relatedly, one floating resident who was living in an RV reported that his neighbors who lived in RVs were careful to space themselves out to avoid being considered an encampment to respect the wishes of the area homeowners.

Neighboring

The final point of the RES is neighboring. This reflects a theme in the data of housed residents actively offering support, information, and/or care for floating residents in the community.

But I mean, it’s really, [homelessness] has not been too big of a concern, especially the people here in front of me. I’ve grown to be able to talk to them and they know that, you know, as long as they keep things clean, they do not bother us, we do not bother them, you know? Yeah. You know, we keep an eye on it. There’s something going on with the weather they do not know about, I go out there and let them know. I know that they have got dogs too. So, you know, we had some kind of common ground there.

We prefer that … the people closer to our houses be the women. Because we do have some, some women, single women down here, and we’d rather those be the one that are camping close to our house, so if they have a problem, they hit their horn, we can call 911 for them. In case they do not have a cell phone.

There’s one gentleman who actually lives below the bridge… nicest man in the world and he is actually, we kind of call him part of the neighborhood. He rides his bike around… and he’s lived there, I want to say for probably 15 years… so he’s part of the neighborhood.

Neighboring behavior also manifested as advocacy on behalf of floating residents, specifically related to the process and practice of “sweeping” encampments.

Someone else from the city… used to come down here and harass the [homeless]. She came down the day before Thanksgiving… and, uh, initiated a cleanup of some places, and, did not give them any warning. Which the city, the city has a protocol on how they are supposed to handle the homeless… which includes giving them notice… And…I am really delighted to say that the citizens that were there were very, that ain’t right, you know… And [another city employee], who I have the utmost respect for, she goes, well, we have a camping ban. And I’m like, I know you have a camping ban, I do not care about your camping ban, these are human beings, and what was done was wrong. [The city employee] did not have to do that. [The city employee] could have given them notice. Had [the city employee] given them notice, people would have packed up and left, but [the city employee] did not do that.

We should note that other government representatives shared that they, too, struggled with encampment clearings. One person shared:

I just do not like [when people make light of encampment closures], because these are people, these are individuals, these are human beings… These are real life people that are out here out here. It’s just that [term] “sweeps.” It just sounds so bad that we are gonna “sweep” an area… I do not know. It’s really tough work.

Here, we see examples of housed residents not only accepting the presence of floating residents, but also actively safeguarding floating residents through actions such as advocacy and the sharing of critical safety information.

Perspectives and experiences of floating populations

Floating residents were, understandably, guarded when asked about participating in an interview and most who we approached declined. We mention this here as an important datapoint as building trust is difficult for a population who has been harmed by many government and institutional forces. However, those who were open to participating in interviews provided valuable insight into the lived experience of floating populations in buyout zones. For example, some floating residents who lived in recreational vehicles did not consider themselves to be homeless. As one participant stated, “I already have my house, but I do need a spot. I just need land. I do not need no house.”

When asked why they left their previous location to relocate to the buyout area, participants shared about moving into cars or RVs after having lost permanent housing or access to housing services and programs.

We were living in a duplex before. But then they told us we had to move out of there because they were going to level it [to] concrete. So, they were going to level it and I had [just gotten] that RV because when my mom passed away, she left us some money and told us to spread it between each and every one of us in the family, my brothers and sisters. So, we did and that’s when I got me that RV with that.

One participant, in sharing about his experience with a housing program, stated, “You go into the system, then you lose everything.”

We went into a program, but… they ran out of funds. So, I lost my bed. I lost a sofa. I lost utensils, plates, pots, pans, everything… It was a housing program. Yeah, they were paying, I was only paying 20 [percent] of my rent, they were paying the rest. And then they just ran out of money… [they came] three days before our rent was due and told us they cannot pay anymore because the funds are gone.

We asked participants to describe how they came to be living in the buyout area specifically. In many cases, their responses reflected those of housed residents when asked the same question. Some participants liked the area because they found it to be “peaceful and quiet”:

It’s nice. Yeah, it’s quiet. It’s peaceful. You see how quiet it is out here.

Others explained the area had been recommended by friends or acquaintances who were familiar with or already lived there.

[Our friends] had been here a long time… we met them at the [last place we stayed]. Yeah, and the cops do not mess with you here.

A friend of ours told us about it… And she brought us over here and checked it out. Yeah. That’s how we found out about it.

I initially heard about the area from someone… that was homeless on the streets. They were suggesting that… this area was a good place for… people with RVs to park.

The experiences and perceptions that emerged as themes in interviews with floating residents mirrored the themes identified with housed residents, as presented in the Resident Engagement Spectrum in Figure 3. Specifically, floating residents described experiences of active dissuasion, coexistence, and neighboring, though they did not directly reflect the use of harmful language.

Active dissuasion

Beginning with active dissuasion, floating residents described interactions with certain individuals who they felt were harassing or pestering them in some way.

Except for one [woman]. She thinks she… runs the whole place, but she does not. She do not run jack crap. She said she works for [the City], but she’s just trying to kick people out of there… She does not work for the city. She said she does, but she does not.

I had a trail cam[era] on my driver’s mirror. If you notice, it’s on the driver’s side mirror. Okay. It’s in a funky angle. They ripped the trail cam off and stole it… They ripped that power cord, causing it to fall. All because I recorded somebody trying to illegally tow us.

Though these interactions were distressing, they were not dominant in floating residents’ descriptions of living in the community.

Coexistence within normative parameters

More commonly, floating residents described interactions that reflected the theme of coexistence within normative parameters. For floating residents, this took the form of “live and let live” behaviors related to policy enforcement by City employees.

No, they never mess with us. Every now and then [a City employee will] come and tell us we gotta move, and we just switch spots.

[The City]… they just do not let us throw the garbage [in the public trash cans]. We wait ‘til they leave, like, and go and throw it then.

The cops, they’ll come by and they ask us if we are okay. Yeah. They’ll come to check and make sure we are okay.

Responses were similar in floating residents’ descriptions of their interactions with neighbors who live in the houses in and surrounding the buyout area.

And generally, [the housed neighbors] do not bother us. Okay. And we try to keep, in general, we try to keep our space clean.

Neighboring

Floating residents descriptions of neighboring also mirrored those of the housed residents, suggesting that these interactions were genuine and mutual, and not simply charitable.

[There’s a] lady that comes from the neighborhood over there, that walks through all the time. They talk to us and all that. She bought me some homemade pimento cheese.

They’ll talk with me and see if everything’s okay. And then that’s all they do. Yeah, make sure we are okay.

One [of the neighbors] took me in. Yeah, made me his uncle or something. Every time he comes by he gives me 10, 20 dollars.

The floating residents we interviewed reported having lived in the buyout area for years, in several cases and, with one exception, did not report any intention of leaving. There was, however, an underlying understanding that their situation was precarious, and their relative stability could be easily disrupted. When asked if anything would cause her to leave the area, one participant replied, “Unless they come and tell me to get out of there, then I might have to go…I do not know where I’m going to go, but I’m going to leave.”

Key insights

In this paper, we present findings from an initial study examining the relationship between floating populations and housed residents in buyout areas, with themes represented in the RES. From this work, several key insights arise that are worth noting as we begin to explore this novel area of buyout research. First, many of the housed residents who participated in the surveys and interviews emphasized that homelessness became a concern for them when floating populations introduced elements of perceived risk into their neighborhoods, specifically perceived illegal activity. People want to feel safe in their homes and communities, and that is a fair and reasonable expectation. However, floating populations are heavily stigmatized, and suffer from assumptions and bias that inaccurately associate homelessness with mental illness, addiction, and even a propensity for violence (Lyon-Callo, 2001; Orr et al., 2025). The National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) reports that more than one in twenty adults experience serious mental illness each year, whereas fewer than one half of 1 % of adults experience homelessness (Soucy et al., 2025). Moreover, floating populations are more likely to be victims of violence than sheltered residents (Lee and Schreck, 2005), with previous studies estimating that 14 to 21% of unhoused people have been a victim of violence, compared with around 2% of the general population (Meinbresse et al., 2014). Still, the concern of crime and risk to household safety was a key driver of the relationship between housed and floating populations in central Texas. Participating homeowners repeatedly spotlighted the size of an encampment as a primary concern, which then evolved into associated concerns that large encampments would damage the environment, increase litter, and attract illegal activities. Less frequently described were references to disorderly individuals, who homeowners felt threatened their the perceived safety or peace of their neighborhood. When disorderly floating residents were present, housed residents actively sought their removal, reflecting attitudes consistent with previous studies (Krajewska-Kułak et al., 2016).

The second insight suggests that floating populations who integrated into neighborhoods where they precariously reside were more accepted than those who disrupted the social norms established and enforced by housed residents. This point was clarified by housed residents who accepted longer-term RV residents in the buyout open space as long as they were distributed (i.e., not forming a densely populated encampment) and not disruptive to the quiet environment created by the removal of homes through the buyout, and which housed residents had come to value. Taken together, homeowners’ responses reflected a desire for the situation to feel manageable. In keeping with previous research that indicates attitudes towards floating populations can improve through positive social interactions (Adams et al., 2023), homeowners in buyout areas developed tolerant or positive attitudes towards the longer-term RV residents, thus generally accepting their presence in the buyout open space and neighborhood.

Resident engagement matrix

By integrating these key insights into the RES model, we propose that the behavioral spectrum presented in the RES can be further refined into a matrix of social interactions between these two resident types (Figure 4). Reminiscent of Berry (1992) seminal two-dimensional model of acculturation, the resulting four categories fall along two axes; the first distinguishing between the degree of action (recognize versus ignore), and the second distinguishing between degrees of welcoming or tolerance of floating populations in the spaces they occupy (accept versus reject). We will discuss each of these categories in turn.

Category a, neighboring, reflects incidents in which housed residents actively recognize and accept floating residents. Examples included housed residents who engaged in acts of care such as proactively warning floating residents about extreme weather events or advocating for adequate notice prior to forced encampment closures. We did not identify any studies that had documented similar behaviors, which may indicate lack of research on neighboring interaction among housed and floating residents.

Category b, co-existence, captures incidences of interactions between housed and floating populations which are present but generally superficial. Interactions are limited and neutral, provided the floating residents abide by accepted neighborhood social norms. This could be seen as a level of tolerance on behalf of housed residents, and may reflect a broader denial of, or disregard for, the systematic conditions that lead to homelessness and continues to treat floating residents as invisible (Karamouzian et al., 2026; Robbins, 2019; Loki, 2024).

Category c, harmful language, captures verbal comments reflective of othering floating populations, the perpetuation of common stigmas commonly associated with homelessness, and overt, violent or hateful language used to describe people experiencing homelessness. However, this language is not tied to any direct action, and thus lies along the ignore end of the recognize/ignore axis. In this study, examples of harmful language from housed residents reflected a lack of understanding or recognition of the systemic causes of homelessness, which is in keeping with findings from previous studies on peoples’ attitudes and perceptions of both floating populations and the conditions leading to homelessness (Brinegar, 2003; Krajewska-Kułak et al., 2016; Orr et al., 2025).

Category d, active removal, captures actions that can be viewed as attempts to actively reject floating populations, whether that be by the forcible removal of floating residents and their possessions, or by active efforts designed to prevent floating residents from easily accessing or settling on buyout land. Similar responses have been documented recently in the literature related to encampments as well as in related circumstances, such as efforts to site homeless services facilities or shelters (Adams et al., 2023; Karamouzian et al., 2026; Orr et al., 2025).

Observations on risk transference

In examining the relationships between housed and floating residents in postbuyout areas, we observe that these relationships occur in a place-based context of shifting vulnerabilities. Housed residents who formerly inhabited the buyout area were relocated in response to a significant, recognized hazard risk. Housed residents who remain in these areas have either declined participation in a buyout or live on the periphery of a buyout zone, and in these ways are living in an area of known hazard vulnerability. Floating residents’ vulnerability may predate the buyout, but that vulnerability is either exacerbated by or cemented by their move into a buyout zone. Taken together, these phenomena raise questions about whether buyouts truly eliminate flood risk, versus ultimately transferring that risk to different households, a question which has been previously identified in the buyout literature (Binder et al., 2020a; Binder et al., 2020b). In this study, glimpses of risk transference emerged in parallel experiences of housed (“ When I got qualified for a loan, this is…the area of the price range where I was able to purchase a house…they did tell us that it was in a floodplain”) and floating (“[ the flooding ] does get pretty bad. I’m staying there because I have nowhere else to go ”) residents. In both cases, external circumstances and limited resources channeled households into areas of known risk.

Though a full exploration of risk transference is beyond the scope of this paper, this study does elevate this issue as an important area for future research, as both housed and floating residents live where policy, practice, and social realities permit them to live. Participants from both populations in this study emphasized that they selected neighborhoods in the floodplain because they could not afford and/or access other less risky areas. The increasing prevalence of lower-income households in floodplains is well documented in the literature, including in Austin (Lee and Jung, 2014).

Although hazard risk transference is recorded in other research (Nilson and de Goër de Herve, 2023), in this study, we see an expansion of risk transference across populations, housing policies, and hazard mitigation programs that are increasingly used for climate adaptation. Specifically, housing policies enabled the development of high flood risk land for residential occupation (Zavar and Fischer, 2021). Over time, severe floods inundated the densely developed floodplains (Hutton et al., 2019; Tobin, 1995), often repeatedly, causing the local government to engage with federal policies aimed at flood mitigation, such as buyout programs funded through the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) (Greer and Binder, 2017). Homeowners who relocated out of the flood-impacted neighborhoods were then displaced across communities as they struggled with the challenges of participating in a buyout program (Manda et al., 2023). One of those challenges, the rising cost of rents and home prices, is directly associated with increases in the number of individuals experiencing homelessness (Harrison, 2020). Through the buyout program, the developed floodplain was transformed into open space with fewer sheltered residents and structures occupying the area. This lack of residential development paved the way for floating residents, displaced from sheltered homes, to move into the buyout open space. Floating residents repeatedly emphasized that the reduced presence of sheltered residents, houses, and police, made the buyout open space preferable to other areas as they felt less harassed. Although a topic for further investigation, we observed that government policies in process at the time of data collection prioritized the removal of encampments on non-buyout land, which may be interpreted as tacit approval of the floating populations’ occupation of buyout open space. In other cases, however, housed residents, motivated by adherence to social norms, requested the removal of floating residents from buyout land. In this way, what we observe in Austin is a negative feedback cycle of displacement that is reinforced by institutionalized policies and practices disguised as hazard risk reduction measures. Simply, the very policies designed to mitigate flood risk by relocating people from floodplains, and the same federal policies being expanded as a tool for climate adaptation, are contributing to residential displacement without adequate policies or support structures in place to disrupt the negative feedback cycle.

Although this study presents a new dimension to the research on homelessness, encampments on buyout land represents just one piece of the broader challenges of homelessness. Homelessness, in turn, is one small piece of a larger housing crisis, which not only includes issues of affordability and access to safe housing, but the exacerbating issues of hazard-prone households needing to be relocated out of high-risk areas, including areas that are at increased risk due to a warmer climate (Bezgrebelna et al., 2021). Still, floating populations are uniquely vulnerable to extreme weather altered by climate change (Wing et al., 2022; Bezgrebelna et al., 2021), making additional research into these interconnected issues timely and necessary.

Housing dislocation exposes affected people to a widening spectrum of risk, whether the cause of displacement is acute (such as relocations through a post-disaster home buyout program) or chronic (such as the experience of homelessness caused by a confluence of housing affordability and accessibility challenges). Our observations of informal housing settlements on or adjacent to post-buyout open space in combination with resident interviews indicate floating populations residing on the buyout landscape is a common practice in central Texas. We also observed a range of social interactions between housed and floating residents that include elements of neighboring behaviors, which is largely missing from the established literature. At the same time, we identified examples of how housed residents contribute to the ongoing displacement of floating residents by reporting encampments for removal. We suggest that these relationships can be understood according to a Resident Engagement Matrix that categorizes interactions according to degree of action (recognize versus ignore) and degree of tolerance (accept versus reject).

Further, this research points to interconnected cycles of displacement illuminated in the unique context of post-disaster home buyout programs. We see how risk may be transferred from one population, housed residents, to the next, floating populations, on the buyout land. From this work, we argue the need for additional research and policy that more fully reflects the cyclical nature of displacement, recognizing the intermingling of forces for displacement (i.e., lack of affordable housing, rapid population growth, and high hazard risk limiting available options) and how these forces perpetuate risk and vulnerability. Moreover, we find key similarities in the reasons both sheltered and floating populations moved into these neighborhoods, namely that these are the areas that best meet their needs for affordability and accessibility. From this perspective, decisions that run counter to recommendations of hazards professionals, such as decisions to remain in or move into areas of known hazard risk, can be viewed as perfectly reasonable, and even necessary, by residents. This suggests a hard but important lesson for disaster social scientists; there’s no such thing as an irrational decision. Rather, decisions made by residents reflect the best available choice in that moment, informed by each resident’s past experiences, life circumstances, available resources, priorities, capacity, social circles, and other influencing factors. If we can accept this as a premise, maybe we can improve future interventions and outcomes.

As an initial, broad introduction to the interconnections between homelessness and flood buyout programs, this study suggests numerous opportunities for future work, in addition to research on risk transference noted above. First, we see the need to better understand nuanced definitions of housing and homelessness among floating populations. Comparing these definitions to policy, terms, and definitions would be fruitful in understanding how systems (dis)align from floating residents’ needs. Secondly, we would like to expand this study across different cities to understand how the phenomenon observed in this study compares to sites beyond central Texas. Third, future research could explore how floating populations influence buyout land use the relationship between floating populations and ecosystem services such as recreation. Finally, as buyout programs are retroactive in design by attempting to fix past land use mistakes through relocation, and climate adaptation seeks proactive measures to reduce risk exposure, future work should consider the planning for floating populations ahead of disaster conditions and the potential for buyout open space to better serve community needs through improved land management practices and housing policies.