Why is disaster preparedness so difficult
Jeffrey Schlegelmilch is director of the National Center for Disaster Preparedness at the Columbia Climate Institute.
Jeffrey Schlegelmilch is National Disaster Preparedness Center at columbia university climate school. While there, he worked to understand and improve the nation’s ability to prepare for, respond to, and recover from disasters.
While the events themselves were deeply traumatic and devastating, Schlegelmilch found the field of investigation surrounding the disaster fascinating. Instead of treating disaster preparedness as a discipline, he likens the intersection of social sciences, engineering, and the built environment to a musical symphony (though not always in harmony).
While operating as an academic institution, the center’s original research, training, and student education are ultimately applied in consultative arrangements that inform real-world decision-making, such as meeting the needs of children during disasters and helping utilities support community welfare in an equitable manner and to inform policy and legislation.
The way we respond to disaster says a lot about who we are and our social values. I sat down with Schlegelmilch to see what we can learn about risk mitigation and preparedness from these civil society advisors.
The following interview has been edited for length and clarity.
The 7.8-magnitude earthquake in early February killed more than 50,000 People in Turkey and Syria, the casualties seem to be increasing every day. What went wrong? In your professional opinion, are they ready? Can anyone please?
This is one of the most common questions I get after a disaster, and the hardest to answer. Preparation is not a static point in space and time, nor is it an end goal to be achieved; it is a process that must be engaged. When an earthquake of this magnitude occurs, there is always damage and loss of life, and you cannot completely avoid it because the cost of doing so is impossible.
Given that this is a historically seismically active area, the magnitude of damage we’ve seen raises these questions: why is it so extensive, and did they do everything they could? However, ongoing challenges facing these countries, and others experiencing geopolitical conflict and hyperinflation, may affect the ability to make the long-term investments required for disaster preparedness.
Another challenge is that the decisions we make are often guided by short-term goals [for example, being able to show earnings in a shareholder report]and long-term investments do not always lead to cutting-edge investments, especially in the region.
flail milk speaking at congressional hearings.
What global resources are available to all countries, especially those dealing with other growing pains, to keep their citizens safe?
Grant and financing schemes are in place globally, but not enough.
It is difficult for countries to make the necessary investments to address increased disaster risk when other geopolitical forces are at play [such as war or political polarization]Recently, however, global financial organizations have increasingly focused on providing these countries with resources to build resilience while meeting other economic needs.
But we should not expect to see significant results immediately. Existing infrastructure, such as old buildings and roads, is not necessarily resilient, and these investments may take generations to materialize at scale to provide meaningful levels of risk reduction.
If political and financial incentives for disaster preparedness are often for short-term gain, what levers can encourage future preparedness? Is the disaster factored into the cost of doing business?
People tend to focus more on response than disaster risk reduction, even if the money is better spent. It costs more money to build earthquake-resistant buildings, but the rewards are much greater when earthquakes occur. If financiers do not realize savings from such returns in a direct manner—say, if society benefits from them—this value will not be meaningfully refactored into investment decisions.
Therefore, our calculations for investment valuations are wrong. There are more risks not being captured, making some resilience investments more worthwhile than they appear.
Has the government ever decided that inaction is more cost-effective than preparing for a threat because it is bailed out by the federal government?
long term. States are underspending on disaster preparedness, largely because of the Disaster Relief Fund, where the federal government will pay 75% of the cost after the fact for most major disasters.
Mechanisms such as disaster deductibles have been proposed, along with substantial funding resources from FEMA and others to reduce pre-disaster risk. Disaster costs are enormous, with measurable dollar amounts behind generations of lives and livelihoods lost or destroyed due to poor preparation.
Sometimes a “natural” disaster is a natural event, but what makes it a disaster is the response of an infrastructure that is not adapted to the environmental conditions. With a growing global population and pervasive contagion, what levers exist to dampen growth in these natural disaster-prone regions?
There is some debate in disaster scholarship as to whether the term “natural disaster” should be abolished entirely. It boils down to a concept that everyone agrees on: A disaster of natural origin or not needs some sort of human element to be a disaster.
Due to the variability of the built environment, earthquakes of roughly similar magnitude can cause vastly different levels of damage, loss of life, and economic devastation. A magnitude 7.0 earthquake felt standing in the middle of a field isn’t really a disaster. But if it were in substandard concrete buildings in the middle of Port-au-Prince, Haiti, it would be one of the worst disasters we’ve seen in modern history. Therefore, there are both loopholes and potential in engineering.
Can we devise a way out of all this?
We can’t solve everything by design because there are always things we can’t predict and we draw the line where it’s not worth the cost.
The social and political environment is also a factor. The informal settlements on the hillsides often seen in South American urban areas are usually the first to be washed away by heavy rains, only to be gradually rebuilt between disasters. The funny thing is, I grew up in the Bay Area, CA and the houses on the hill were the most expensive! They are built to high seismic codes and all, so are less vulnerable than informal settlements elsewhere.
We are increasingly dependent on infrastructure, especially electricity. In my opinion, the 2021 Texas blackout is really just a major disaster because the grid fails. The fatalities were mostly directly or indirectly caused by power outages due to infrastructure failures. The growing reliance on infrastructure in the face of climate change and our growing demands for electricity, water and increasingly scarce resources creates a vulnerability that needs to be strengthened.
Given our reliance on man-made systems to deliver water and energy, how can we be independent and in control of our own safety should these lifelines fail?
Taking care of yourself can make you more willing to serve others. Basic skills, having a backup plan, and knowing how to get to safety benefit everyone. A colleague of mine, Daniel Aldrich of Northeastern University, convinced me that investing in social capital (neighbors helping neighbors) is just as important as investing in the built environment.
Research shows that throwing block parties and such events that foster social cohesion are just as valuable as including supplies like waterproof matches in your emergency preparedness kit. These social bonds and connections may remind your neighbors or community members to take care of you and get you out of a disaster together. Building social capital is a resilience investment that can also be fostered at the municipal level.
Are there trade-offs between physical resilience and economic and social resilience? Have they ever had a feud?
Yes, often. When Japan built seawalls, cutting off access to the sea disrupted fishing, tourism, and transportation elsewhere, weakening social and economic resilience in some places.
For access to restoration resources, vertical linkages—how connected your community is politically—can have a big impact on how money flows. When looking at which states received more funding or more attention after disasters, disadvantaged communities are historically underserved communities that, by definition, lack significant vertical social capital.
All this talk of disaster: what makes you optimistic?
The people I work with. The more you understand disasters and understand the built environment, hazards, social context, and racial inequities that create vulnerability to disasters, the deeper you sink into the abyss of despair. But you also see turning points where the curtain is lifted and you see how society works, which opens the door to a more just future. Not from me, but from those who are focused on doing better with ingenuity, enthusiasm and energy by learning more and listening to the community.
Just recently we had another Ukrainian war-related project to work on, developing training to help teachers understand trauma-informed classrooms, and while I’m very interested in the heavy workload that’s been assigned to the team, they’re just about delivering opportunity to help. It is very inspiring to see this desire and humility to help others.
Jeffrey Schlegelmilch currently teaches master’s students at the Columbia Climate Institute and is the author of Rethinking Preparedness: A Concise Guide to Mega-Disasters in the 21st Century, published by Columbia University Press. He is also the co-author of a new book titled “Catastrophic Incentives: Why Our Approach to Catastrophe Keeps Failing,” currently being published by Columbia University Press.
Daniella Zandi is an energy and sustainability consultant and master’s candidate at Columbia University’s School of Professional Studies.
