We can't imagine something more cruel than to take advantage of people suffering
When Winter Storm Uri paralyzed Texas in February 2021, collapsing the power grid and leaving millions without heat, water, or information, some businesses chose to treat catastrophe as opportunity — selling water at triple its price and advertising hotel rooms at $999 a night. Texas law forbids exactly this during declared emergencies, and county and state officials moved swiftly to warn that violations would be prosecuted, with fines reaching $250,000. Yet the cruelest irony of the crisis was structural: the very people being exploited were often too powerless, too cold, and too cut off to file a complaint.
- With temperatures plunging and the grid failing, millions of Texans found themselves without electricity, safe water, or any reliable way to reach the outside world — a compounding emergency that left the most vulnerable with nowhere to turn.
- Into that void stepped opportunists: roughly 500 price gouging cases were documented in Harris County alone, with water marked up two to three times its normal price and hotel rooms listed at $999 a night while families shivered in the dark.
- County Judge Lina Hidalgo and Harris County Attorney Christian Menefee publicly condemned the exploitation, calling it among the cruelest imaginable acts during a disaster, while Attorney General Ken Paxton vowed full prosecution under Texas emergency pricing law.
- Officials asked victims to photograph receipts and submit evidence — a reasonable ask made nearly impossible by the fact that many had no power, no charged phones, and no internet access with which to report anything.
- By Monday power had returned to most homes, but millions remained under boil-water advisories and faced burst pipes, even as Senator Ted Cruz's Cancun departure added a sharp political dimension to a week already defined by institutional failure.
When Winter Storm Uri swept across Texas, it did not merely bring cold — it brought systemic collapse. The power grid failed. Pipes froze and burst. Water systems went down. Millions sat in the dark without heat, without safe drinking water, and without any reliable way to know what was happening or when it might end.
As the crisis deepened, some businesses saw not suffering but opportunity. Harris County documented roughly 500 cases of price gouging: water sold at two to three times its normal price, individual bottles marked up further still, and hotel rooms advertised at $999 a night. A Wyndham property in Austin posted exactly that rate — later attributing it to an inventory management error during a power outage, a explanation that landed with varying degrees of credibility.
Officials responded with urgency and anger. Harris County Judge Lina Hidalgo warned violators publicly, citing fines of up to $250,000. County Attorney Christian Menefee called it among the cruelest acts imaginable — profiting from people already suffering. Attorney General Ken Paxton echoed the warning statewide: Texas law explicitly bans the sale of necessities at exorbitant prices during declared emergencies, with penalties scaling sharply when elderly victims are involved.
But enforcement hit a structural wall. Residents were asked to photograph receipts and submit complaints — a process that assumed access to a charged phone and a working internet connection. Many had neither. One woman captured the absurdity plainly on Twitter, asking how someone under a boil-water advisory, without power or gas, was supposed to know they were under such an advisory, let alone boil water to comply with it.
By Monday, power had returned to most of the state — down from 4 million outages at the crisis peak to under 16,000 — but millions remained under boil-water advisories and faced the slow reckoning of burst pipes and water damage. Into this still-raw moment came the revelation that Senator Ted Cruz had flown to Cancun with his family. The backlash was swift. He returned by Thursday, offering a series of evolving explanations — that he'd only planned to stay one night, then that the original plan had been the full weekend, that leaving had been "obviously a mistake." In one unguarded moment, he told a Houston television station he had been "taking care of my family the same way Texans all across the state were taking care of my family" — a slip that seemed to reveal, in miniature, the distance between the represented and those who represent them.
Winter storm Uri descended on Texas with brutal cold and ice, and within days the state's power grid collapsed. Millions lost electricity. Pipes froze and burst. Water systems failed. People huddled in the dark without heat, without information, without a way to know if the water running from their taps was safe to drink. And then, as the crisis deepened, some businesses began raising prices.
Harris County officials documented roughly 500 cases of price gouging in the days following the storm. Water—the most basic necessity—was being sold at two to three times its normal price, or split into individual bottles and marked up further. Hotel rooms that would normally rent for a fraction of the asking price were advertised at $999 per night. One Wyndham Hotels property in Austin posted exactly that rate online. The hotel later claimed the listing was a mistake, that no guests were actually charged those rates, that the high prices were simply an inventory management error during a power loss. Whether that explanation satisfied anyone is unclear.
Lina Hidalgo, the judge of Harris County—the largest county in Texas—took to Twitter to warn violators. "We will not tolerate price gouging," she wrote. "Violators can face fines of up to $250,000." Christian Menefee, the Harris County attorney, was more blunt at a Friday press conference. "Whether it's spiking the price of basic necessities or whether it's posting an Airbnb with power for $1,000 a night, we can't imagine something more cruel than to take advantage of people who are suffering right now in this disaster."
Texas law is explicit on this point. During a declared emergency, selling food, water, fuel, medicine, or any other necessity at an exorbitant or excessive price is illegal. The penalty is a civil fine of up to $20,000 per violation, or up to $250,000 if the victim was over 65 years old. Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton issued his own statement: "No one is exempt from price gouging laws in Texas. Any person selling goods, necessities, or services at an exorbitant price will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law."
But enforcement requires evidence. Officials asked residents to photograph their receipts, note the business name, time, date, and item purchased, and submit everything to the county attorney. It was a reasonable request, except for one problem: many of the people being gouged had no power, no way to charge a phone, no way to access the internet, no way to file a complaint. Some were under boil-water advisories and couldn't leave their homes. One woman posted her frustration on Twitter: "There's people on a boil water notice here in Texas, without power or gas. How are you supposed to know you're on a boil water notice if you can't leave your house and no way to check news, and how are you supposed to boil water without power or gas."
By Monday, the immediate crisis was beginning to ease. Power had been restored to most of the state. The outage tracking site Poweroutage.us reported 15,718 households still without electricity, down from 200,000 on Friday and 4 million earlier in the week. But millions remained under boil-water advisories. Frozen pipes had burst across the state. The damage was real and would take weeks to fully assess.
Five days into the crisis, Senator Ted Cruz boarded a plane to Cancun with his family. Photos of him at the airport and on the aircraft spread across social media within hours. The backlash was immediate and fierce. By Thursday, he was back in Texas, claiming he had only planned to stay one night. Later, he told Houston's KTRK-TV that the original plan had been to stay through the weekend, that he'd had second thoughts as soon as the plane took off, and that leaving the state while hundreds of thousands of people were without power was "obviously a mistake." He called it a distraction. One reporter noted that when Cruz said "I was taking care of my family the same way Texans all across the state were taking care of my family," he seemed to have misspoken—a slip that suggested he'd been thinking of himself as separate from the people he represents.
Citas Notables
We will not tolerate price gouging. Violators can face fines of up to $250,000.— Lina Hidalgo, Harris County Judge
No one is exempt from price gouging laws in Texas. Any person selling goods, necessities, or services at an exorbitant price will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.— Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does price gouging matter so much in a crisis like this? Isn't it just supply and demand?
Because people can't choose not to buy water or heat. They're not shopping for luxury goods. They're trying to survive. When someone exploits that desperation, it's not economics—it's predation.
But how do you prove it's gouging and not just normal market adjustment?
That's the hard part. The law says "exorbitant or excessive," which is subjective. A hotel owner can claim they were managing inventory. A water seller can claim they had limited stock. The burden falls on the victim to document it and report it—while they're sitting in the dark without power.
So the law exists but it's hard to enforce?
Exactly. And the people most vulnerable—elderly folks, people without internet access, people in the darkest parts of the outage—are the least able to gather evidence and file complaints.
What about the Ted Cruz thing? Does that belong in a story about price gouging?
It does because it's the same impulse. While people were freezing without power, a senator with resources left for a beach resort. It's the same question: who takes care of themselves when others are suffering?
Did any of the businesses actually face consequences?
The story doesn't say. We know the laws exist and officials promised prosecution. But enforcement is slow. By the time fines are assessed, the crisis is over and the story has moved on.
What should people do if they see price gouging?
Document it. Take a photo of the receipt. Note the business, time, date, item. Report it to the county attorney. But you need power and internet to do that—which is precisely what people don't have during the crisis.