of back-to-back billion-dollar storms¹. As disasters doubled, then doubled again—four in 2022, eight in 2023, eleven in 2024—state lawmakers moved fast. They passed legislation that rerouted disputed claims into DOAH, framing the shift as a matter of “administrative efficiency.” What it eliminated, in practice, was the right to a jury trial.
“This goes against the foundation of our justice system,” said then–State Representative Hillary Cassel, a former insurance lawyer who understood exactly what it meant for Citizens to handpick the judges². She understood the stakes.
She also knew the math. In circuit court, Citizens wins just 55% of the time. But at DOAH? Over 90%³.
Here’s how DOAH works—and why critics say it’s rigged: Homeowners who challenge a denial are automatically rerouted into an administrative system where standard courtroom procedures vanish. Most never see a ruling. According to a 2025 ProPublica and Sun Sentinel investigation, 78% of DOAH cases settle early—and half of those end in payouts of $500 or less⁴. Like the Kilfoils. Like dozens of other families whose names don’t appear in legal records, just in contractor invoices and hospice logs.
Jeffery McShane is one of them. A retired school custodian in Central Florida, his HVAC system was ravaged by mold after a burst pipe. Repairs totaled over $200,000. Citizens denied the claim, citing exclusions buried in the fine print. Fighting it could’ve meant walking away with nothing. Settling got him five grand.
“It’s not justice,” he told the Sun Sentinel. “It’s attrition. They’re counting on you to wear out before they do.”⁵
That wear is visible now—not just in warped baseboards and sagging ceilings, but in the way neighbors stop telling their stories. They’ve learned not to expect anyone to listen.
But one man did fight back.
After Hurricane Milton tore up his roof, Tampa homeowner Martin Alvarez filed a claim. When Citizens lowballed the payout and forced him into DOAH, he sued back. He filed for an injunction. And in August, for the first time, a judge listened.
Hillsborough County Circuit Judge Melissa Polo sided with Alvarez, pausing all DOAH redirections statewide⁶. Her ruling called the system “structurally biased.” She cited restrictions on evidence, lack of public oversight, and a recurring pattern in which legal fees were awarded to Citizens—even when homeowners had withdrawn their claims. She didn’t use the word “rigged.” She didn’t need to.
Still, Citizens isn’t backing down. At an October board meeting, CEO Tim Cerio waved off Polo’s decision as theater. “Trial attorneys are gaming the system,” he said. “The process is fast, fair, and efficient.”⁷