In that blog I mentioned that Dr. Peter Wenger from NSF participated on the panel and talked about Dr. Peter Berke was researching the “new urbanism” and its impact on community resilience.

            The panel, “The Maddening of Crowding: Urban Vulnerability,” was interesting in and of itself. It focused mostly on what were called “megacities,” those with 19 million plus residents. Wenger talked about the most vulnerable being “SINs”—Small Island Nations and the need for a global platform to look at vulnerability. He also referred to cities as having large “concentrations of resources.”

            Dr. William Siembieda from California Polytechnic Institute—San Luis Obispo, echoed that comment. Only he also pointed out that these cities contain large poor populations and both the need to increase income for these as well as form international “insurance pools” where they can ensure the leverage of these resources.

            All of this echoed for me Lawrence J. Vale and Thomas J. Campella’s edited volume, The resilient city: How modern cities recover from disaster (Oxford University Press, 2005). I highly recommend the book. Various authors in that book talk about how major cities are located in important places and there was a commitment to building them in the first place. That suggests that we don’t need to look exclusively at megacities, we could include a whole lot more on the list. New York City of course, Los Angeles, Houston, Chicago, Atlanta and Charlotte all have a lot of resources at their disposal.

            This predisposes (pun intended) most all big cities to be more resilient. While researching for a paper I’m just finishing up, I was quite surprised to discover that Hiroshima’s population returned to pre-atomic bomb levels by 1955. Undoubtedly, this is a good example of resilience, acknowledging that Japan is a small nation and enjoys cultural homogeneity.

            The resilient city is an excellent read. It recounts, among other things, how Berlin was rebuilt after WWII, San Francisco recovered from the 1906 combined fire and earthquake, and Washington, DC after it was nearly destroyed by the British Invasion of 1814.

            In all these cases, and many more, there was a huge will among the cities leadership (public and private) to restore and recover. In fact, Vale suggests it is an axiom of resilience that it is a test of the very legitimacy of those leaders. They have to inspire people and leverage resources to go on.

            It was the fact that these cities had large numbers of differently skilled leaders that were able to leverage the resources they possessed.

            “Large” is a relative number—what was large in 1500 AD might be small now—but I’d opine that in today’s world, most cities with 5 million or more residents possess that inherent resiliency that comes from making themselves unique and creating a sense of place and capitalizing on their economic engines. There are exceptions, of course. Pompeii was in no position to recover after Mount Vesuvius erupted.

            It may come down to simply a large population, poor or otherwise that points to their inherent resilience. I’d say not. One of my favorite quotes from Charleston’s Mayor Joseph P. Riley, Jr. is that city “places”—parks, promenades, cultural venues, sports arenas, boulevards—are places where “memories are made.” People seek to preserve those.

            The panel was standing room only. The discussion was in keeping with the workshop and there were two practitioner and two more academic discussions. I should tell you here that the panelists don’t get to use PowerPoint and don’t give formal papers. They give a brief presentation and then it goes open the audience, a truly refreshing way to bring academics and practitioners together for discussion.

            Tom did a good job of summarizing what CARRI has been about all along, seeing mitigating, preparing and recovery from disasters as a continuous process that is interlinked. He acknowledged that defining resilience was still a work in progress.

            Clare’s approach was interesting and refreshing. Though she has long been recognized for her research in disaster recovery she spoke from her position as an elected official in Virginia. In her standard straightforward fashion she said, more or less, ‘I’m not sure what resilience is, but people are beginning to talk about it and I think means I need to find out more.’

            Dunaway offered some interesting comments, emphasizing resilience and the need to find funding for building our national deterrent capacity to meet the challenges we are facing. He argued we need to change our culture in the face of increasing populations and multiple threats. He saw becoming a more resilient nation as the path to accomplishing that. He concluded with a very nice quote that defined resilience to him—given to him by a private sector friend. Resilience, means finding a way to function normally in abnormal like conditions. As good start for thinking that everything is, in fact, getting back to normal (or a new normal).

            A tsunami researcher, Dengler, echoed Clare’s statement and talked a bit about being in Malaysia after the huge tsunami a few years back.

           One interesting thing she said was that one island tribe used the term “smong” when asked what happened. She actually found out that that meant a lot of things in one word when time was critical. Smong means “when the ground shakes and there’s a lot of things jumbled up and the sea starts to recede and you see gurgling out where the water is, head for the high ground.” So, this one tribe did just that, gathered up the kids, put grandmas in carts and trucked up about 90 meters–exactly where Dengler would have recommended they go–and they all survived. Not only did they do that, but they also had stockpiled critical materials, lumber, food, etc., up out of harm’s way as well. When was the last time a large tsunami hit the village? 1917.

           Another village escaped the tsunami, but evacuated anyway. She asked the chief if they were disappointed to have gone through all the effort of getting everyone to high ground and waiting it out. He replied no, “Each time offers us a chance to practice.”

             Dengler offered that she wasn’t sure, but thought those were two pretty good examples of resilience. I agree.

            July 2010 was the 35^th time the group has met. It would be an interesting exercise to plot their themes/topics over those years, but I was most pleased to see that this year there was a concurrent session on Community Resilience and Recovery. I went to several of these sessions and each was extremely well attended. CARRI’s own Tom Wilbanks was a presenter at one that had standing room only.

            Though I will have more to share about what I learned at the conference, one was actually fortuitous that I learned at a panel that Dr. Philip Berke (UNC-Chapel Hill) moderated in a different track on environmental change and patterns of vulnerability. The panel focused on large-scale urban areas with that idea in mind.

            One of the panel participants, Dr. Peter Wenger of the National Science Foundation revealed that Dr. Berke was engaged in NSF-funded research on what we social scientists call the “new urbanism” and disaster resiliency. From the way the questions where handled, Dr. Berke’s research is in its early stages—but from my perspective, this is terrific news for our understanding of community resilience.

            The new urbanism folks address a pretty consistent theme. They don’t like urban sprawl. They don’t like single-use zoning. They think we can live and would choose to do so in denser communities where we can walk to the grocery store or work. I know more than most about this since I directed the Joseph P. Riley, Jr. Center for Urban Affairs and Mayor Riley is at the forefront of leaders in the new urbanism movement.

            How does this relate to community resilience? I don’t know the details of Dr. Berke’s work for NSF, but it is pretty easy for me to see. People who live closer to where they work—to the point of walking distance—are likely to find recovery from disaster easier.  Ditto for whether schools and places to shop and seek entertainment are as well.

            The new urbanism movement is all about core cities and multi-purpose nodes that, in the end, create not just easy access to employment or retail, but a sense of place as well. They like small parks, places where you can go and walk, talking to your kids or playing fetch with your dog.

            Berke’s is the kind of resilience research that should be pursued—it has the portent to be path-breaking in that it gets us through the multiple layers of community connections that we know entail resilience. It is encouraging to see the NSF funding such efforts. I look forward to the conclusions from this way of scientifically researching community resilience.

When disaster strikes, businesses can’t rebuild without financial resources; for most that means credit.  The mistrust that has become endemic in our financial system has upped the ante for businesses seeking credit.  More information is needed; more security is needed; but less credit is available.  The burden of proof of creditworthiness has almost gone beyond the reach of many small businesses.

Earlier in the day I had a phone call from a friend in Nashville.  He told me about a vet there who had nearly been swept away twice while trying to save the animals in her care.  As the owner of a small business, she is desperately trying to recover and rebuild after the flooding that occurred (see the photograph below).  She is discovering what too many have found before – there is little help for Main Street when disaster occurs.  There is a smattering of private credit available for recovery.  The federal Small Business Administration offers low interest rate, long-term loans, but the already high burden of proof of creditworthiness becomes almost unreachable for disaster-crippled businesses.  And then there is … nothing else for our small businesses.

In propping up those “Too Big to Fail,” we seem to have forgotten the real engines of our economic growth and vitality – the tens of thousands of small businesses across the country.  As we strive to make our communities and our country more resilient, we need to recognize that our small businesses are a crucial part of our communities and that they deserve special attention.  I don’t have an answer but I do know that without one, our efforts to make our communities more resilient will fail.

            Such is the state today, I believe, with what are called “best practices.” They have proliferated in many practical areas to the point where you can find many that are in direct contradiction to each other.

            As I write this, I have been watching from time to time the suggestions of different people who have thought of ways to clean up the oil spill. Some say spray it with dry ice, some say use pom-poms to soak it up, some say use hay or straw, and some say we should use more and different chemical dispersants while others suggest these may cause even more environmental harm.  All may claim to be a best practices currently available, but at some point, they proliferate to the point such that they are just different ways of dealing with a problem or issue and may actually be at odds with each other.

            To diverge just a bit, we can say the same about what we call a healthy diet. At one time dieticians and doctors suggested eating a lot of organ meats because they were rich in minerals. Then not, because they are also filters of bad stuff. Margarine was better for us than butter, but then we discovered trans-fats. Though long accepted as fact, there is absolutely no basis in scientific fact that we should drink eight glasses of water a day. Now, we are told there is some evidence that red meat may not be so bad, rather it is cured meats like bacon that cause harm. 

            Such are best practices—they reflect what we know about the world today in both practice and science. It pushes the point, but at one time the best practice to cure a very feverish patient was to bleed them to rid the body of bad “humors.” Think about that.

            As a result of this, as we proceed with the CARRI work of helping communities recovery efficiently, effectively, and fairly from disasters, we changed our terminology to  “successful practices” rather than “best.” When we discover policies or programs that have worked in the past we will label them as successful.  The admonishment here is clear. Caveat emptor.

This is an admonishment to all that we should think of disaster recovery as a continuously unfolding body of knowledge where what we thought best today may not be tomorrow. Second, and more importantly, we should realize that successful practices are those that have shown results in particular circumstances. Since circumstances can vary—sometimes dramatically—then those who are looking for solutions should consider if their circumstances fit those where a practice was successful.

            CARRI has steadfastly maintained that community resilience is created by planning to recover. But once a plan is in place, it should not be put on a shelf someplace and dusted off when a disaster hits. Rather, it should be continuously reviewed and updated to reflect changes in the community and in what we know now rather than then. It also assumes that what we thought was best might not have been that at all.

            We may never find the one best way to do something, but we can and should continuously strive to do so—and keep in mind that what we know now are some things that have been successful in other communities. These should be adopted with thorough consideration.

As I discussed in a previous posting, The Art of War – the two millenium old classic Chinese treatise on war – has great relevance to community resilience.  In this post, I’d like to discuss how SunTzu’s observations about leadership can be applied to communities.

According to Sun Tzu, a successful leader must have the five traits listed above.  In the context of a community and its resilience, these traits might be better described as follows.

Intelligence.  Intelligence in leadership means that the leader knows how to clearly identify an objective, communicate it, and then plan to achieve it.  This implies that an intelligent community leader recognizes when the community must adapt to changing circumstances.  The intelligent leader is able to articulate that need and initiate the planning effort needed to affect change. 

Trustworthiness.  A trustworthy leader is recognized by the community as a person of integrity.  Thus, the community believes that a trustworthy leader will carry out promised actions, and will provide support to the rest of the community to implement action plans.  Such a leader is thus able to communicate more effectively to the larger community, because even unpopular messages are more likely to be heard. 

Humaneness.   An effective leader cares about the community, and that caring is manifested in actions.  The community feels that a humane leader “feels their pain,” and therefore are more likely to follow where the leader is going.  This recognized innate humanity of the leader is especially important when trying to reconcile different factions within the community.

Courage.  A leader must have the courage to persevere even when obstacles are encountered.  In essence, the courage needed by an effective leader is born of a certain innate confidence in one’s own integrity – the leader believes the community is on the right course.

Sternness.  By “sternness,” Sun Tzu means a sort of rigorous fairness.  Rewards and punishments are strictly based on actions, and not the person acting.  Ultimately, this sternness is the result of a sort of self-discipline in which the leader may have favorites but does not favor them.

The transformation of Charlotte, NC, from a textiles to a financial center illustrates the importance of several of these leadership traits.  Up until the 1970’s, Charlotte had been one of the leading centers for the textile industry in the country.  The heads of two of the largest banks in North Carolina and the head of Duke Power recognized that the demise of that industry threatened Charlotte’s vitality.  All three were a part of the community, and passionately cared about Charlotte’s future.  Acting largely independently of city and county governments, these three formed an organization aimed at helping Charlotte to adapt to these changing conditions.  As plans were developed, these three spearheaded the transformational effort.  They helped rebuild some of the poorest sections of the city (encountering opposition because many of these were predominately black), making what had been almost slums into desirable neighborhoods.  In spite of criticism and carping, these three eventually transformed Charlotte into what has become the second largest financial center in the country.

Gore (and others) have used this story to illustrate climate change. Metaphorical, or better, mythically (since it does not appear to be true), I suppose it works.  Climate change is analogous to slowly heated water, and we won’t notice until it is too late. Problem is, we already have noticed.

The illustration is, of course, fraught with inconsistencies. First, we have facts relating to boiling water and frogs. Researchers are pretty uniform in saying if you throw a frog in a pot of boiling water, it will jump out if it can or die from the immediate scalding. We can accurately call that an “acute disaster.” So far we agree with Al.

Contrary to popular assumptions, when placed in a pot of water that is slowly heated, the frog will most likely get uncomfortable and jump out. That is best labeled as “chronic disaster”—one that unfolds in slow motion, so to speak. Though in the end, the summative impacts of a chronic disaster may equal those of a major disaster, they just don’t all happen at once.

Climate change (if you believe in it—and I do, by the way) can best be described as a chronic disaster.

I live on a lot that has a salt marsh in the rear—eight feet out my back door. My lot is eight feet above sea level. Over some period of time, I could, I suppose own beachfront property if some sea-level rise predictions are correct and if I am alive. Alternatively, I could have deep-water access and a lot that is (by today’s standards at least) worth considerably more than it is now. I write this because I’ll have ample time to adapt and make any of myriad decisions to deal with rising water.  

In thinking about the slow devolutions of chronic disasters, they occur in a way that is much akin to allowing me to make the decision to put up hurricane shutters in the midst of one.

Certainly the CARRI model of disaster and recovery can apply to chronic disasters. But should it and if it should, how? We can think about it, because nothing is pressing.

There are a couple of things we should focus on as we consider this question.

The first is whether or not a chronic disaster is one that suggests a community will be sustainable over time. In this sense, chronic disasters can result in a persistent downward trajectory of community functioning. In the case of climate change and sea level rise, salt water may make incursions into drinking water sources, beaches lost as recreation areas, and so on. In this sense, a community enduring a chronic disaster becomes less and less resilient and might not be able to resist even a minor perturbation as it slips downward.

The second issue is adaptation. Likely many communities will elect to build dikes or begin an incremental retreat from the shoreline as the sea levels rise. This would be akin to introducing a new species to combat a non-native invasive one.

Economic disasters are often chronic. One industry leaves, then another, and then another. Slowly, incrementally, the community’s economy crumbles. However, the warning signs are there in multiple forms. Higher joblessness, declining home values, higher crime and so on are all signs. Think Detroit. At some point, communities may breach the realm of sustainability and become entirely different than what they were, if anything at all. That is why my good colleague, John Plodinec says we need a Common Framework, now! It would allow us to see the oncoming freight train in an objective fashion.

The CARRI model can certainly assist a community in recognizing it is on a downward trajectory. We at CARRI have to decide whether the recovery model we have created “fits” chronic disasters that progressively deplete a community’s resources over an extended period of time. In the case of a community that is unsustainable, thinking out loud again and speaking for myself and not the CARRI team, I do not think it does because adaptation is one thing and unsustainability is another.

We at CARRI see disaster recovery as following a logic, but one that also shows the interconnectedness of a community.  Though post-disaster infrastructure recovery is important early on, even then the gears of a community’s economic and social system are engaging.  It is important to understand this because any recovery plan that does not will not be as effective.

As I was struggling with a way of explaining the need to pay attention to social factors, early on I thought about a community’s social capital.   Social capital is one form of glue that holds a community together during normal functioning.  It literally, to use our CRS and CF terminology, helps create a sense of community.  And it gets stressed, stretched, and challenged during and following a disaster.

I went back and searched for a quote I had highlighted in Lawrence J. Vale and Thomas J. Campanella’s edited volume, The Resilient City: How modern cities recover from disaster, written in 2005. There, Vale wrote:

     “….[R]ecovery occurs network by network, district by district, not just building by building; it is about reconstructing myriad social relationships embedded in schools, workplaces, childcare arrangements, shops, places of worship, and places of play and recreation.”   (Vale, 2005)

My mind immediately seized upon a familiar image—that of the tattered American flag that someone searching amidst the World Trade Center rubble attached to the highest girder sticking in the ground.  Even before the first truckload of debris was carted away, putting up a symbol that the city would use to endure its disaster.  Who can forget the image of sheer compassion on the fireman’s face as he tenderly carried a young child away from the rubble that had once been the Murrah Building in Oklahoma City?  These are the types of symbols that help a community rebuild.

Vale writes about other rituals that matter–the ceremony that was held before the last truck carted the last load of debris from ground zero where the towers once stood.   In his words, “Remembrance drives resilience.”

The significance of this should not be overlooked.  Even in the early stages of disaster recovery, a community should attend to matters of social capital just as it works to repair roads and bridges.  Of course, the primary form this takes is communication from community leaders that clearly understand this is both at stake and an issue.

Social functioning may rest atop adequate infrastructure and a healthy economic system, but that does not make it any less important in the meshing of gears that create community resilience.

 I thought it would be worthwhile to talk about who are the challenged, and why it makes practical sense for communities to treat them as potential assets, not liabilities.

 If we look at our communities today, 5-10 % of the population has some debilitating mental or physical condition.  Last year, one in eight Americans received at least part of their food through food stamps – and one in four of our children.  Officially, about 10% of our population is unemployed; but if we include new college grads, those who’ve stopped looking for work, and those who are underutilized, the rate increases to almost 18% nationwide.  It should also be noted that unemployment among the college-educated is at an all-time high – almost 5%.  In the Rust Belt and parts of the South, the official unemployment rate is over 20%, meaning that the actual unemployment rate approaches 30%.  Thus, in many communities, a large fraction of the population – and sometimes a majority – is facing significant challenges.  

 After a community is hit by a disaster, recovery makes huge demands on the permanent personnel who actually keep the community running.  More people are needed to remove debris.  More people are needed to handle the flood of permits for rebuilding.  People are needed to reconnect families and to help get services to those who need them.  Many communities meet these needs by hiring “outsiders” to provide these services, but if they do so, they lose in at least two ways: 

• These communities send the resources to pay for these services outside the community.  Since the federal government will pay for many kinds of temporary workers after a disaster, it makes good sense to hire these workers from within the community – to keep as many precious dollars within the community as possible.  The challenged – particularly the employable unemployed – should be the first resource tapped by a community (To their credit, BP has agreed to do just that in southern Louisiana communities affected by the oil spill.).
• These communities have to spend more of their resources helping the challenged recover from the disaster than they otherwise would. That means much less accomplished with limited resources and possibly a longer recovery period.

In other words, communities who don’t use the challenged to aid in the extraordinary challenges of recovery are turning potential assets into real liabilities.

 Thus, by making use of its members who face significant challenges to meet the extraordinary demands of recovery from a disaster, a community can keep dollars in the community while maintaining a more productive and motivated permanent staff.  This isn’t political correctness but enlightened self-interest.

Flooding is the one disaster to which every community is vulnerable. And as we have learned from the recent flood devastation in Nashville and New Jersey, property owners considered outside delineated flood zones can have a rude awakening if the rains hit hard and fast. Many residents and business owners outside the 100-year floodplain believed themselves safe from flooding and did not have flood insurance. They had a harsh lesson from which we can all learn.

Since standard insurance policies do not cover flooding, property owners have the opportunity to purchase protection through the National Flood Insurance Program (NFIP) if their community meets FEMA requirements to adopt and enforce ordinances for reducing flood risks.

While community participation in the NFIP is voluntary, nearly 21,000 communities across the United States and its territories participate. Only in participating communities do homeowners, renters and business owners have access to federally backed flood insurance.

Having and enforcing an adequate floodplain management plan is a mark of a resilient community. Adopting standards that exceed NFIP standards means a community might sustain even less damage and recover more quickly. Translated: floodplain management saves money, property, and lives.

Beyond that, there are costs to a community for not participating in the NFIP. Federal officers or agencies, such as Veterans Affairs or Federal Housing Administration, are prohibited from approving any form of financial assistance related to land located in a Special Flood Hazard Area. If a Presidential disaster is declared, no federal financial aid can be used to repair or reconstruct flood-damaged homes.

Without community oversight of building activities in the floodplain, the best efforts of some to reduce future flood losses can be compromised by the careless practices of others. Likewise, insurance rates will be adversely affected.

After a disaster, non-participating communities can apply to join the NFIP within six months and, if accepted, limitations on federal disaster assistance will be lifted. But after a disaster is not the best time for a community to undertake an application. Neither is it wise for individuals to secure insurance after the flood damages or destroys a home or business, or to wait for the forecast that predicts severe flooding since most insurance programs don’t allow for last minute policies.

There are distinct benefits for living in a flood resilient community. Exceeding the minimum NFIP requirements can mean insurance discounts of between 5 and 45 percent. Further, the program has resulted in insurance reductions of nearly $1 billion annually. According to the NFIP, buildings that meet flood construction standards suffer approximately 80 percent less damage than non-compliant structures.

It’s worth noting that FEMA reports that up to 25 percent of NFIP flood insurance claims are paid on buildings that are outside the mapped Special Flood Hazard Area, those areas where floodplain management regulations must be enforced and where flood insurance is mandatory.

Resilience begins at home. The best way to protect your investment in your home is to have adequate coverage. If you live in a community that is not in the NFIP, private insurance can be purchased. Visit www.floodsmart.gov for a listing of agents by community. You can find out if your community participates in the NFIP by going to www.fema.gov/fema/csb.  If your community is not part of the program, you can petition your local government to participate.

For those not subject to the NRIP regulations requiring flood insurance, it is especially important to self-regulate and purchase insurance and use flood damage-resistant materials and building practices. Stay tuned, this is the subject of the next blog on flood resilient communities.