Anak Krakatau has once again demonstrated that disasters rarely stop\nat their primary source. The eruptions occurring since early September\nhave produced more than just incandescent material and volcanic ash. The\nash has spread far from the crater, disrupting flight operations at six\nairports, including Soekarno-Hatta, and affecting hundreds of flights.\nSchools have closed in several affected areas, fishing activities have\nbeen restricted, and citizen mobility has been disrupted.<\/p>\n
It is the volcano that erupts, but it is the system that is\ndisrupted.<\/p>\n
This distinction is vital because our understanding of disasters\noften remains limited to their immediate source. Volcanoes are treated\nas matters of volcanology; earthquakes as seismology; forest fires as\nforestry issues. However, when a disaster occurs, its impact does not\nrecognise the sectoral divisions found within bureaucratic\nstructures.<\/p>\n
Cascading Risk<\/p>\n
In disaster studies, this phenomenon is known as cascading risk or\nsystemic risk. The essence is simple: a hazard does not only cause\ndirect damage but can also trigger secondary disruptions that move\nthrough networks of infrastructure, economy, health, mobility, and\nsocial life.<\/p>\n
A volcanic eruption, for instance, can disrupt aviation. Aviation\ndisruptions hit the mobility of people and goods. Access closures can\nhinder logistics, tourism, economic activity, and even the distribution\nof basic services. While the hazard radius of a volcano can be mapped,\nthe radius of systemic disruption is not as straightforward. Indonesia\nhas witnessed similar patterns many times.<\/p>\n
The 2018 Palu disaster should make this logic familiar. The\nearthquake did not just shake buildings; in a single sequence, tsunamis,\nliquefaction, and landslides formed a far more complex disaster. The\nultimate extent of the damage was determined not only by the strength of\nthe initial tremor but also by the relationship between the hazard,\ninfrastructure, spatial planning, and community vulnerability.<\/p>\n
Earthquakes may collapse houses, but the subsequent consequences do\nnot end with buildings. Residents move to evacuation centres, where\nneeds for sanitation, health, security, child protection, and aid\ndistribution emerge. In East Nusa Tenggara, a refugee under the age of\n15 was reported as a victim of sexual violence amidst the evacuation\nsituation. The government subsequently provided assistance and prepared\nspecial tents for women and children. This case illustrates a rarely\ndiscussed paradox: an individual can be saved from one risk only to\nencounter another.<\/p>\n
Evacuation does indeed reduce the likelihood of being crushed by\nbuildings. However, if evacuation centres are not designed with adequate\nsecurity, lighting, sanitation, protection for vulnerable groups, and\nsupervision, the safety gained from evacuation can be followed by new\nvulnerabilities. Forest and land fires provide an even clearer example.\nFire may start in one area, but smoke moves with the wind. In early\nSeptember, Serian in Sarawak even declared a state of emergency when the\nair pollution index reached dangerous levels. Schools had to close in\nparts of Malaysia. A fire may be contained within one regency, but its\nconsequences can become a regional issue.<\/p>\n
Fragmented Bureaucracy<\/p>\n
This is where the real problem arises. The modern state is built\nthrough the division of authority. There are agencies that monitor\nvolcanoes, agencies that read the weather, agencies that manage\ntransport, health, search and rescue, the environment, social\nprotection, and local governments.<\/p>\n
This division is necessary. The problem is that risk does not operate\nin the same way. Disasters move horizontally while bureaucracy works\nvertically. We may have agencies that are excellent at reading volcanic\nactivity, but that knowledge only becomes protection if it is rapidly\ntranslated into decisions regarding aviation, schools, health, traffic,\nand public communication. We may know hotspots with high precision, but\nthat information is only valuable if law enforcement, land management,\nhealth, education, and environmental diplomacy move before smoke turns\ninto a transboundary crisis.<\/p>\n
Therefore, Indonesia\u2019s problem may not be a lack of institutions. We\nactually possess many institutions that understand the individual\ncomponents of a disaster. What is more difficult is ensuring all those\nparts read the same risk chain. Within a framework of systemic risk,\nconnectivity is what matters. A disruption in health can affect the\neconomy. Infrastructure damage hinders food distribution. Communication\nfailure can exacerbate the response. Conversely, a single decision in\none sector can either mitigate or create risk for another.<\/p>\n
Our policy language is still often trapped in a single question: has\nthe disaster been handled? The question that should be asked is: after\nthe first disruption occurs, what is likely to fall next?<\/p>\n
Testing the Chain of Failure<\/p>\n
This is where Indonesia needs a change in how it conducts disaster\nsimulations. So far, exercises are often built around a single main\nscenario: an earthquake occurs, a tsunami arrives, a volcano erupts, or\na fire spreads. Such scenarios remain important, but they are not\nenough. What needs to be tested is the chain of failure.<\/p>\n
Imagine a major eruption. Airports are closed. Several roads are\ndisrupted. Evacuation centres swell. Hospitals begin to reach capacity.\nMedicine distribution is delayed. Communication signals weaken. The\npower supply in one region is disrupted. At what point does the system\nbegin to lose its ability to function? Such a question requires a kind\nof cascading-risk stress test in disaster-prone areas\u2014not to perfectly\npredict what will happen, but to find the weak points before a crisis\ntests them.<\/p>", "url": "https:\/\/jawawa.id\/newsitem\/disasters-never-arrive-alone-1789599082", "image": "" }, "sponsor": "Okusi Associates", "sponsor_url": "https:\/\/okusiassociates.com" }