Local science for coping with large disasters

H.T. Goranson, Project Syndicate

The earth produces a reliable stream of disasters. Some, like AIDS, are chronic; others, like earthquakes or hurricane Katrina, are sudden displays of natural force. In each case, it is expected that a well-financed relief effort will descend from a wealthier region. But importing assistance may not only be less effective; it might actually cause more damage in the long run.

When a tsunami hits, the first impulse is to bring in First- World experts. Rescue is the initial priority, followed by ensuring food, shelter, and medical aid. It is just a matter of getting things done, and it must be done the most effective way, so the operations occur according to the institutional philosophies of donor countries.

But siphoning the habits of one culture into another during a rebuilding process can trigger societal changes that are almost as damaging as the disaster itself, as happened in a small fishing villages in the Philippines in the late 1970s.

In 1978, Typhoon Rita wiped out the fleet of handmade wooden fishing boats in a group of sea-dependent Philippine communities. Relief was fast and effective, consisting first of subsistence aid, followed by "restoration" of the fishing fleet. The old boats, which rotted every few years, were replaced by modern fiberglass versions with small gasoline engines. At the time, this was touted as a textbook case of doing things right.

The fishing economy rebounded and flourished -- but only for about ten years. After that, the entire society collapsed. Over thousands of years, the culture had come to depend on the central role of boat builders. They were the anchor of society, acting in effect as priests, teachers, and judges. Subsistence flowed according to their goodwill and was supported by conventions of sharing and trust.

After the relief effort, this complex human balance was replaced by a cash economy, and the power brokers became those who could dole out the rare, precious petrol. An entire culture was effectively destroyed by efficient relief.

This scenario has been repeated over and over in diverse contexts. The first impulse is to solve problems in the most established manner. But, lacking sensitivity to local dynamics, the outcome is severely compromised.

The solution seems simple: Create and subsidize small science centers in regions at risk of disaster. The primary objective of these centers would be "normal" science, with missions and profiles that feed from their local context. At-risk regions would develop culturally appropriate ways to deal with the catastrophes most likely to affect them. In addition, local talent would be nurtured in its home context.

This philosophy would benefit places like New Orleans as much as Phuket in Thailand.

It has been overwhelmingly observed that the worst-hit people in New Orleans were poor African-Americans living in the city's low-lying districts. To be sure, many of these inner-city residents simply lacked the resources to evacuate easily. But it is beginning to emerge that many also preferred to stay in a social environment that they trusted rather than fleeing to safer, but foreign, surroundings.

Critics also cite the diversion of infrastructure funds and Louisiana National Guard troops to Iraq as contributing causes to the emergency. These factors clearly played a role, but, overall, if a body of scientifically inclined people from the inner city had been involved in flood control and evacuation planning, the consequences of hurricane Katrina would certainly have been managed more effectively. By contrast, the inappropriateness of transplanting troops from Iraq into an emergency rescue operation is obvious.

The fight against AIDS -- a battle that depends heavily on social modification -- highlights in perhaps the clearest way the problems that always occur when local culture is ignored. Societal mechanisms simply cannot be adjusted without a crisp, practiced understanding of a culture. And this cannot be merely intuitive. It must be scientific, that is, based on the best methods and models.

For this reason, there should be two points of contact during a catastrophe. Groups of critical thinkers -- the "experts" -- should be on hand to advise on how to avoid second-order disasters. Even though many of them might not have studied the local culture, they can nonetheless provide guidance that has been informed by the world's most expensive infrastructure. At the same time, relief efforts should be managed by a local science center that is known and trusted by those in danger.

The implications of this approach extend far beyond disaster relief. A robust scientific establishment is the root of any economy, and there will be no real development in the Third World without it.

The writer is the Lead Scientist of Sirius-Beta Corp and was a Senior Scientist with the U.S. Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency.