Inaction is not free. The cost compounds with every year of delay.
Along Chile's vast Pacific coastline, researchers have done what economists do best: they have given grief a number. The SECOS Millennium Institute has calculated that coastal erosion and beach closures could drain $60 million annually from the country's wellbeing by 2100, threatening an economy where beaches are not amenities but foundations — supporting 620,000 jobs and anchoring entire communities to their livelihoods. The study arrives as a quiet warning that what the sea takes, it does not return, and that the cost of inaction is always higher than the cost of foresight.
- Chile's central coastline is eroding under the combined pressure of rising seas, intensifying storms, and decades of treating dunes as buildable land rather than living infrastructure.
- Each beach closure already costs hundreds of millions of Chilean pesos in lost wellbeing per region — and climate models suggest the current 70 annual closures could double by century's end.
- Tourists reveal through their own travel choices that they will pay $868 per extra meter of beach width and nearly $30 to preserve protective dunes — making erosion not just an ecological loss but a measurable economic one.
- The cruel paradox of adaptation looms: the concrete walls and rock barriers needed to defend coastlines from storms are the very structures that drive tourists — and their spending — away.
- Researchers are urging Chile to treat beaches as strategic natural infrastructure, demanding integrated coastal plans that weigh technical, economic, and aesthetic criteria before the sand runs out.
Researchers at Chile's SECOS Millennium Institute have placed a precise economic value on something most visitors experience only as pleasure: the width of a beach and the dunes behind it. Tourists from the Metropolitan Region, they found, are willing to pay $868 per additional meter of sand and $29.40 per trip to preserve protective dunes. These figures are not curiosities — they are the foundation of a larger argument about what coastal erosion is truly costing the country.
Chile's 6,400-kilometer coastline is not peripheral to its economy. Tourism accounts for roughly 3.5 percent of GDP and sustains approximately 620,000 formal jobs. Yet the coast is retreating. Rising sea levels, powerful waves, and extreme weather are stripping away sand, damaging ecosystems, and threatening the infrastructure that coastal communities depend on. Drawing on travel data from the ten most visited beaches across Coquimbo, Valparaíso, and O'Higgins, the research team — spanning four universities — published their findings in the Annals of Tourism Research.
The numbers are sobering. A single beach closure already costs between 289 and 374 million Chilean pesos in lost wellbeing, depending on the region. Central Chile currently endures around 70 such closures per year. If extreme weather events double in frequency by 2100, as climate models project, annual losses in tourism wellbeing could reach $60.32 million — representing not just lost revenue but lost rest, recreation, and connection to the coast for millions of people.
Study author Felipe Vásquez notes that people do not value beaches in the abstract — they value specific qualities: space, comfort, room to move. When those qualities erode, so does wellbeing. His colleague Roberto Ponce adds that dunes, long treated as available land for development, are in fact generators of wellbeing and tourism appeal that cannot be replaced once paved over.
Adaptation, however, carries its own contradiction. The hard infrastructure needed to defend coastlines — drainage systems, concrete walls, rock barriers — tends to repel the very visitors it is meant to protect the economy for. Experts argue the answer lies in planning that integrates technical, economic, and aesthetic considerations, with low-impact designs developed through community participation. The researchers' conclusion is unambiguous: the choice is not between protecting the coast and preserving its appeal, but between investing now and paying far more — in damage and lost opportunity — later.
Researchers at Chile's SECOS Millennium Institute have put a price tag on something most people take for granted: the width of a beach and the dunes that protect it. The finding is stark. Tourists visiting the central coast are willing to pay an extra $868 for each additional meter of sand beneath their feet. They'll spend $29.40 per trip to preserve the dunes that anchor those beaches. These numbers matter because they translate into something economists can measure: the economic value of coastal erosion, and the cost of doing nothing.
Chile's coastline stretches more than 6,400 kilometers. Beaches are not peripheral to the economy—they are central to it. Tourism contributes roughly 3.5 percent of the country's GDP and supports approximately 620,000 formal jobs. But the coast is eroding. Rising sea levels, powerful waves, and extreme weather events are wearing away sand and soil, damaging ecosystems and threatening the infrastructure that communities depend on. The question the research team asked was simple but consequential: what does this erosion actually cost?
To answer it, economists from SECOS, the Universidad del Desarrollo, and the Catholic and Temuco universities analyzed travel decisions made by tourists from the Metropolitan Region who visited the ten most popular beaches along the central coast—in Coquimbo, Valparaíso, and O'Higgins. The results, published in the Annals of Tourism Research, revealed that beach width directly shapes the visitor experience. Dunes matter too, not just for their aesthetic appeal but because they function as natural barriers against storm surge, trap sediment, and sustain biodiversity. Several dune erosion events have already damaged coastal infrastructure in central Chile.
The economic impact of beach closures tells another part of the story. When a single beach shuts down due to severe weather, the loss of wellbeing reaches 374 million Chilean pesos in Coquimbo, 352 million in Valparaíso, and 289 million in O'Higgins. The central region currently experiences roughly 70 beach closures per year from adverse climate conditions. If climate models are correct and the frequency of these extreme events doubles by 2100, annual losses in tourism wellbeing could climb to $60.32 million. That figure represents not just lost revenue but lost days of rest, recreation, and connection to the coast that millions of Chileans and international visitors depend on.
What makes this research significant is that it reframes coastal erosion from an environmental problem into a development problem. Felipe Vásquez, one of the study's authors, notes that people do not value beaches as abstract goods. They value specific attributes—space to walk, room to rest, comfort. When those attributes disappear, so does wellbeing. His colleague Roberto Ponce adds that in Chile, dunes have often been treated as available land for urbanization or infrastructure. The study suggests the opposite: conserving them generates wellbeing and strengthens tourism appeal.
But adaptation presents a paradox. Coastal cities need to protect themselves from rising seas and storms, yet the visible infrastructure required—drainage systems, concrete walls, rock barriers—can reduce the very appeal that makes beaches valuable. Tourists react negatively to hard engineering interventions that dominate the landscape. The solution, experts argue, requires careful planning that integrates technical, economic, and aesthetic criteria. Interventions must be designed with low visual impact and community participation.
The researchers propose treating beaches as strategic natural infrastructure. Beyond their ecological value, they are employment anchors, tourism engines, and frontline defenses against climate crisis. Ponce warns that inaction carries a cost. If the country does not invest today in protection, restoration, and coastal planning, it will pay far more in the future—both in unavoidable damage and in lost economic opportunity. Adaptation cannot wait for beaches to narrow or closures to multiply. It requires coastal adaptation plans grounded in science, clear risk indicators, and transparent criteria for when to restore, restrict use, or relocate infrastructure. The choice is not between protecting the coast and preserving its appeal. It is between acting now and paying much more later.
Notable Quotes
People do not value the beach as an abstract good. They value the specific attributes that allow them to enjoy it—space to walk, rest, feel comfortable.— Felipe Vásquez, SECOS researcher and study author
Inaction is not free. If the country does not invest today in protection, restoration, and coastal planning, it could end up paying much more in the future, both in avoidable damage and lost economic opportunity.— Roberto Ponce, SECOS researcher and study coauthor
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does it matter that tourists will pay $868 for an extra meter of beach? That seems like a small number.
It's not about the individual transaction. It's about revealing what people actually value when they make choices. That willingness to pay is data. It lets economists say: this beach width has economic worth, and when it disappears, that worth disappears too.
So the study is really about making the invisible visible—putting a number on something that usually doesn't have a price?
Exactly. Beaches don't trade on markets. Dunes aren't bought and sold. But people reveal their preferences through their travel decisions. The study captures that and translates it into a language policymakers understand: money.
The $60 million figure by 2100 assumes beach closures double. How confident are they in that projection?
They're citing climate models that suggest it's plausible. But the real point isn't the precision of that number. It's that even conservative estimates show significant losses. And those losses compound if nothing changes.
What's the paradox you mentioned about adaptation?
Cities need seawalls and drainage systems to survive rising seas. But tourists hate looking at them. A beach protected by a massive concrete wall is technically safer but economically less valuable because fewer people want to visit it. You can't just engineer your way out of this.
So what's the actual solution?
The researchers say it's not either-or. You need integrated planning—technical expertise, economic analysis, and aesthetic design working together. You also need to think of beaches as infrastructure worth protecting, not as land available for development. And you need to act now, not wait for the crisis to worsen.
Why does timing matter so much?
Because adaptation gets exponentially more expensive the longer you wait. If you restore a beach today, it costs X. If you wait until it's eroded away and you've lost tourism revenue and jobs, the cost becomes 5X or 10X. Inaction isn't free.