Disaster planning: It's good to talk

A new dialogue is needed between policymakers and scientists to tackle natural crises
September 22, 2010
Troubled waters: the Zipingpu dam in China, built over a geological faultline, may have contributed to the earthquake which killed 80,000 people in Sichuan province in 2008




A series of major disasters—from this summer’s floods in Pakistan and the brushfires in Russia, to recent earthquakes in Haiti and Chile, Hurricane Katrina and the 2005 tsunami—have left many people asking if the intensity and frequency of such events are increasing. The World Health Organisation’s emergency events database suggests that they are; moreover, the havoc ostensibly wreaked by nature is often a reflection of the ways that humankind makes itself vulnerable to natural phenomena. And it is humankind that may have the best solutions to these problems.

The floods in Pakistan may in part have been caused by extensive felling of trees and over-grazing, resulting in soil erosion, as well as by the diversion of the Indus river via dams. To meet the needs of its rapidly growing population, the seismically active Himalayan region has been the centre of intensive dam construction, despite the risk of earthquakes. Indeed, according to a recent London University report, dams built over geological faultlines may contribute to an increase in seismic activity, due to the pressure exerted by the weight of the water in the large lakes locked behind the dams. It has been argued, for example, that the Zipingpu dam, built over a faultline, helped trigger the earthquake that killed more than 80,000 people in China’s Sichuan province in May 2008.

Meanwhile, thanks to a massive programme of deep drilling from the 1970s to 1990s, drinking water that comes from deep wells in both the western US and in Bangladesh contains harmful, naturally occurring chemicals such as arsenic. Studies for Unicef suggest the health of 200m people in more than 70 countries is at risk as access to so-called “clean water” becomes an ever-increasing problem.

Globalisation and intensifying economic and technological interdependence also increases the dimensions and the dynamics of risk. The volcanic ash that grounded so many airline passengers earlier this year may not have been a fatal disaster, but it showed how dependent we have become on technology.

The good news is that technological and scientific developments are already improving a range of crisis preparedness and response initiatives. Telemedicine has linked paramedics in remote areas to first-rate interventions from doctors continents away. Bangladesh Telemedicine Services, for example, is a private company that plans to set up telemedicine centres in remote villages in Bangladesh to help doctors identify disease early on. Satellite-based remote sensing, already used by the UN’s High Commission for Refugees to track flows of displaced people, will soon be able to monitor their physical conditions as well. Text messaging has opened up the prospect of vital community links in Tajikistan that would enable monitoring of what the health innovations organisation, InSTEDD, has called “the cholera disease cycle.” Meanwhile, mobile phones can enable money transfers, needs assessments and family reunification in relief operations, as was evident in Haiti.

Yet two measures of critical importance, “vulnerability mapping”—identifying potential humanitarian crisis threats—and information-sharing, are still fraught with conflicting interests, hampering the dialogue needed between scientists and policymakers. To make a real difference, natural and social scientists, policymakers and planners must work more closely to identify threats, not merely within states but transnationally. Social anthropology and psychology have as much to contribute as engineering, agriculture, economics and medical assessments. If, for example, an effective vulnerability assessment had been undertaken in Haiti, it would have been obvious that many buildings—including the UN offices in Port-au-Prince—had been built over an earthquake faultline. (There had been an even bigger earthquake in Haiti in 1946.) And a proper vulnerability map would have indicated the propensity of groups to respond to disasters and offers of assistance.

As was evident in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, the knowledge of social scientists about ways to engage local communities is often bypassed by “experts.” Had policymakers listened to social scientists, they would have realised that the lower-income groups affected by Katrina neither trusted the authorities nor had the resources, such as cars, to respond to planners’ relief measures. Most governments say they do “use” scientists; that they are in the room when it comes to policymaking. They may be in the room, but they are not at the table.

One good example of how a multi-disciplinary approach could work is the much-maligned Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. We can find fault with some aspects of the organisation, but it shows how scientists and policymakers can work together at a global level and exchange information. It is astonishing that there is no equivalent for potential natural disasters. As the prospect that more complex and devastating humanitarian crises are on the rise, dialogue between scientists and policymakers is needed more than ever.

Visit the Humanitarian Futures programme to find out more