The disaster in Southeast Asia is first and foremost a human tragedy. Individual people, families, and communities have suffered and will suffer for years as a result. Future possible dangers include epidemic, diminished food supply, even errant land mines washed out to sea from Sri Lanka. Like the events in Bhopal, this is a tragedy that will play out over a generation.
In addition to the direct human impacts, the Tsunamis of '04 will also to have enormous geopolitical repercussions, for good and ill. These "aftershocks and ripple effects" can only be guessed at. But better to start thinking about them now.
Let's note at the outset, however, that despite the enormous awfulness and drama of the tsunamis -- 66,000 is the number of reported dead as I write -- this tragedy pales in comparison to the cumulative impact of catastrophes that are happening all the time, in the same region. Regular flooding in India and Bangladesh, for example, affects millions of people every year. Thousands die every year. Some people live in the tops of trees for months at a time. Early this year, two-thirds of Bangladesh was under water. (Figures and hi-res maps for 2004 available from the Dartmouth Flood Observatory.)
But the tsunamis will have far bigger impacts on the global psyche, and thus geopolitics, at least in the near term. What are those impacts likely to be?
First and most obviously, there will of the enormous disaster relief effort, as well as a renewed effort to knit the developing world more tightly into the international tsunami warning system, and other similar warning and response systems. (The Worldchanging crew is hard at work trying to help with that.) But the reasons that nations like India and Sri Lanka were not already participants -- having largely to do with lack of economic capacity, and a short-sighted lack of perceived risk -- will underscore and perhaps heighten global tensions around equity. Why should poor people be extra vulnerable to tsunamis? Or AIDS, for that matter? Climate change? Expect such questions, already pressing, to gain in force.
Of course, not only the poor were affected, but the rich as well, and this too has geopolitical implications. Very immediately in Thailand, the devastated tourist trade will take a long time to recover (if it ever does). Shell-shocked Europeans and Australians are not likely to think about a beach vacation in Southeast Asia for a few years, at least. This means that the region will lose enormous amounts of income. In southern Thailand, that income served as an economic buffer between the Thai government in the north, and the Islamic insurgency in the south. Without that buffer, tensions are likely to grow (despite the recent "peace airdrop" of origami cranes), and regional rebels are likely to exploit that fact. Expect tough times for Thailand.
There is nothing like a common disaster, and continuing common threat, to bring people together, so recovery efforts are also likely to pull India, Sri Lanka, Indonesia, Malaysia and Thailand into tighter circles of regional economic cooperation. This region has in recent years expressed a general policy of independence from Western aid regimes, with the many strings that come attached to them. They need that aid now; but with the collapse of the beach-tourist trade and other coastal industry, they will need indigenous economic development, regional trade, and regional cooperation more than ever. Impossible to say anything about how that will play out over time, but expect it to become a theme in the region.
What else? The events of the last few days invite ruminations and speculations on a host of other issues, from the increasing vulnerability of coastal development, to the possibility of China using this event to increase its presence in the region, to global disaster preparedness in general and the need for long-term, science-and-history-based perspectives on what can happen -- and indeed has happened, many times.
But let's return to where we began, international cooperation. Let's add the role of science and technology, and ruminate.
It's clear a warning system -- which is essentially applied science and technology put to the service of international cooperation for collective security -- could have saved thousands of lives. It's clear now, in hindsight, that this should have been an international priority. "The equipment was too expensive" is a phrase that should never have to be uttered again, both because of moral obligations for basic human security regardless of national income, and because the best warning systems must involve high- as well as low-tech solutions. They must reach all the way down the chain, from seismic sensor-readers to low-tech fisherfolk, home-makers, and restaurant managers. Think pop radio, not broadband.
Tsunamis are a natural disaster. They happen quickly, and regionally. What are the cognates, at other scales of time and geography? Slow disasters can be far deadlier than quick ones (AIDS). Local disasters can also have global impacts (Chernobyl). What other kinds of disasters, at other scales, can be prevented by applying science and technology to international cooperation and collective security? Here are a couple of ideas for Worldchangers to consider.
At the scale of local, "point-source" disasters, consider the Indian fast-breeder nuclear plant in Tamil Nadu, whose intake tunnels were submerged by the waves. The safety systems worked; the reactors were shut down. What if they had not? A true nuclear disaster on India's east coast would also have region-wide, indeed global, repercussions.
So let's start with a GIS-style mapping of all the highest-risk industrial installations in the world -- places where, if things go wrong, they could go very wrong indeed, for everybody. Some combination of citizen pressure, and informal telecom-supported citizen monitoring, should be brought to bear to reduce the risk of disaster in such places, and the containment of tragedy, should disaster strike.
At the global scale, consider climate change. The wild-ride movie The Day After Tomorrow, while flawed in the science, is spot-on in depicting the relationship between the scientific community and the global polity's decision-making processes. In a word, distant. Studies are presented and slowly shredded up in the wheels of public debate.
What if there was a scientific advisory council whose sole purpose was to evaluate serious risk to vulnerable populations and ecosystems? They could then propose timelines by which preventive action must be taken, based on best available estimates. This would be a thankless job, much like reporting the weather; they would only be remembered for the times they were wrong. But if we are serious about saving lives and adapting to climate change, somebody's got to do it.
For example, millions in Bangladesh will eventually lose their land and homes. This is not going to happen gradually, but in quantum spurts over a century, as floods suddenly come and then don't recede as far or fast as they used to. Mapping such dangers, and alerting the world to them specifically -- in a way that can steer development aid, investment dollars, and the like, and put people out of harm's way -- could seriously reduce suffering. Government's increasingly do this sort of thing for other, far-less-inevitable security threats, like terrorist attack. Why not climate-change-driven disasters, which are already happening, and almost sure to increase?
Here is a scary but inescapable thought that absolutely must be reckoned with: As awful and unprecedented as they were, the giant waves in SE Asia will likely be overshadowed by far greater disasters, natural and technological, as the world system continues to grow more crowded, fragile, and vulnerable in the coming years. The world may be filled with brilliant flares of innovation, but it is also filled with disasters waiting to happen -- and some of them undoubtedly will.
No real tragedy ever has a "bright side". At best, we learn. The Tsunamis of '04 could help us learn to take the whole business of assessing risks, monitoring, and warning each other more seriously. This is a basic evolutionary survival skill that we simply must get better at.
And given current trends in climate change, and the growing concentration of population on coasts and in floodplains, we are, unfortunately, going to have many opportunities to get better at it.









