Hurricanes and Human Nature

Overhead view of a hurrican and its eyeIf you’re like me you’ve spent the last several weeks reading and watching everything you can about Harvey and Irma, those two most unwelcome visitors to our shores. I feel especially sorry for those who were just starting to crawl out from under the rubble left by Harvey, only to have the nation’s attention diverted to Florida’s woes. As I sit here, safe and dry, it’s easy for me to do a little pontificating about what these storms reveal about the human condition. To be honest, I’m finding it quite difficult to write

about this subject without sounding smug, or judgmental, or just plain heartless. Yesterday I wrote something that I ended up deleting. But we can’t just ignore these huge disasters unless we want to cut ourselves off from media entirely. They affect our thoughts and emotions greatly. I kept wondering what it was like to be hunkered down in a shelter or a basement, or caught in the enormous traffic jams, as the hours ticked down before Irma’s landfall. There was plenty of time for recriminations. One woman wrote a wrenching story that ran in The Washington Post about her inability to leave and her reluctance to stay. But she had to do one or the other, so she stayed. (I just went onto her Twitter feed but she hasn’t posted much, understandably.)

A hurricane bearing down is a classic case of an event that is outside one’s “circle of control,” that Steven Covey idea I wrote about recently. (Alas, I never made it through the Seven Habits book but instead returned it to Audible and got something else that I’ve thoroughly enjoyed and have almost finished. Watch for that book later on this week.) There’s no way you can stop a natural disaster, although there are preparations you can make. You do what you can and recognize what you can’t. Many if not most of the important preparations have to take place long before the storm hits: where and how buildings are built, how people are accustomed to live, how robust supply lines are. The woman referenced above said:

We need comprehensive state and county evacuation plans. We need a preventive plan set into motion before a storm hits to save lives. Sending in the cleanup crew to count the bodies and save the traumatized survivors isn’t enough.

But now we’re smack dab back into the problem of human nature, and indeed of simply living in the world we inhabit: It’s extremely hard to spend lots of money on something that might happen. How pleased are those Florida voters going to be if their local officials are using their tax dollars in this way when there are other, more pressing, more urgent problems for which those dollars can be spent? Only strong-minded and confident leaders are ever willing to plunge ahead with this type of preparation, and who knows how long they’ll be allowed to stay in office?

I was reminded as I was writing of a 9/11 hero. Here’s a section from a post over on my music blog:

Now the 9/11 connection, about a true hero of that terrible day, a British man named Rick Rescorla. He had gotten into security work after a long career in both the British and US military. After the 1993 bombing of the World Trade Center he lobbied for his company to move out of the towers as he feared that there would be another attack, this time possibly by means of an airplane crashing into the towers. The company, Morgan Stanley, disregarded his warnings, not wanting to break their lease that wouldn’t expire until 2006. If ever there was an example of false economy, this is it. MS occupied over 20 floors in the South Tower. Well, Rescorla said, if you’re not willing to listen to my recommendations you’re at least going to be prepared if there indeed is an attack. He instituted drills every three months during which all employees had to evacuate down the stairs, marching two by two. Rescorla would time the drills and give evaluations, insisting that they continue even though top-level executives complained about the interruptions and loss of time.

On the morning of September 11 Rescorla was in his office when the first plane hit the North Tower. Even though the Port Authority was announcing over the PA system that all employees should stay at their desks, Rescorla instituted his evacuation plan. Taking his cell phone, walkie-talkie and bullhorn, he went from floor to floor systematically clearing out the offices and sending people down the stairs. He stood in the stairwell and kept them going even when the second plane hit that building and it lurched violently. And one way that he kept their spirits up was to sing them rousing songs from his youth in Cornwall, England, including a version of our selection titled “Men of Cornwall.” Can’t you just see it? I certainly can. 2,687 employees and 250 visitors who were there for a stockbroking class all managed to get out safely; only 13 died. Rescorla was one of them. He was last seen heading back up the stairs to check on those who were unaccounted for. The tower collapsed soon after, and his remains were never found. Today there is a memorial to him in his native town of Hayle, Cornwall.

Rick Rescorlas are pretty thin on the ground, and the problem is that they may never be proven right. If the 9/11 hijackers been stopped before they boarded the planes, would Rescorla had kept his job? Or would management have insisted that he be fired? Now the blame is falling thick and fast on officials in Texas and Florida about the lack of preparedness and infrastructure, but what if Irma had stayed harmlessly out at sea? At what point does preparedness become paranoia?

A balancing act, as always. You can’t sacrifice the present for the future when you don’t know what that future will look like. Do you struggle with this question? What solutions have you discovered?