Sheltering in Place (of SOP's and freedom)

Here's what would happen if my office building were successfully attacked by terrorists:

Security is breached. Charges are placed at strategic points where structural integrity is weakest (they did their homework). Explosions ring out from below. Some of my colleagues try to close out their laptops so that they can remove them from their docking stations, just in case everything turns out fine. But we really don't have enough time to think. We have laminated cards that tell us where to meet should we find a way out of the building, but a point of rendezvous seems a bit silly at the moment. One employee is frantically searching for instructions on his Blackberry by scrolling through the text in the "Help" function. I slam open the drawers to my desk, searching for the orange pouch that my employer gave us on our first day. The walls begin to collapse around me...I can't see...and then...hours later...I wake up. Dust, bits of paper, and slabs of concrete and steel are everywhere. I hear the hiss of electricity sputtering from some wires nearby. It is mostly dark, but there's enough light for me to get my bearings. Miraculously, I still have my evacuation kit. I open it. There is a sheet of paper. It reads

"CONGRATULATIONS! On your purchase of the World Prep Personal Evacuation Kit"

Somehow, I don't feel so lucky.

Ever wonder what's inside one of those emergency pouches? Well the secret is out:

1. A whistle (Made in USA!) that warns you "this is not a toy and should be kept out of reach from children." Sitting amidst the rubble after an attack, it's heartening to know that "this whistle is very loud and confined use may cause hearing loss - use ear protection"

2. A Mainstay emergency drinking water bag (4.225 fluid ounces) that's "Easy to use...Anytime...Anywhere - bus, auto, home, marine." Be sure to field test the bag before use by squeezing it. "If air or water escape, replace." Brought to you by Survivor Industries (Bottled who knows where)

3. A May Day emergency survival blanket that "retains 90% of body heat" and gives "complete thermal protection from rain and snow" (Made in China)

4. A Light Stick by Northern Lights, Inc. that boasts "exceptional quality and value" but is also a "choking hazard." "Do not drink," we're told (Made in Taiwan)

5. A COBY CX-7 AM/FM radio, complete with Dynamic Bass Boost System to really bring out those funky basslines while you're waiting for help to arrive (Made in China)

6. A heavy duty aluminum flashlight (Made in Taiwan)

7. and a NIOSH-approved particulate respirator. Two, actually (N100 and N95), so make an educated guess at the diameter of the particles that you're breathing in and don the more appropriate mask. (Point of manufacture unknown - probably made by 3M)

8. food. Just kidding! No food. Not even a PowerBar.

Considering my evacuation kit, our escape plan, and our nation's security efforts of late, I oscillate between thoughts of comedy and tragedy. But one thing is clear: the response to 9/11 gives us a case study of how crises will lead those in positions of authority to define a problem in a certain way and then develop standard operating procedures (SOP's) to deal with it. Somewhere along this path, the average citizens or the "non-experts" of our society are locked out of the decision-making process, and left to simply follow the newly-minted SOP's. It's usually too late to question or tweak these emergent SOP's, once they're set in motion.

Think about how much of your life is carried out without thought - traveling to work, what route you take, preparing food, the routines that you follow throughout the day at work, the forms you fill out, what you consider entertainment, how you go about interacting with certain people in certain settings. Yes, a good portion of your existence could be lived out nearly unconsciously. This, in one respect, is a good thing: we need to save cognitive energy for the moments that are unexpected, and for our efforts to creatively shape the future in a way that will give us more life and a better chance of finding meaning and fulfillment in it. But regulatory organizations such as those charged with keeping us safe operate the same way - much of their behavior is habitual - they exhibit similar patterns of behavior when faced with a given stimulus, without explicitly selecting them over other possible responses. The scary thing about this is that these institutions, or groups of ideas that were meted out long before we had a say about the decisions made or even the objectives that drove the decisions, point to a less democratic future as SOP's accumulate. And the habitual behavior of, say, a federal agency, is not governable by rational deliberation.

Think for a moment about the Department of Homeland Security, a sprawling heap of 22 federal agencies charged with keeping us safe. It's fighting a war, not on terrorism, nor against Islamic fundamentalists, but "terror." Such a concept is about as far as you can get from our real situation. For while our reactions to what our enemies might carry out in the future are far more powerful than anything that they can dream up in a bunch of pimped out caves, "terror" has an infinite number of root causes. Many of which fester solely in our own minds. But no matter. We're fighting a war on terror. And how? With bureaucracy. SOP's. Many of which we have very little understanding. But they're in place, and occasionally, during a drill or random bomb scare, or following our government's receipt of "credible evidence," we see bits of them in action. Like the Homeland Security Advisory System. Each threat level (red, orange, etc.) triggers an endless array of actions by federal and state agencies. For example, a given threat level may result in systemic forced searches of all vehicles near airports without probable cause. The constitutionality of most of the actions triggered by this system has not been tested in court. And we really wouldn't know where to begin in challenging such a web of SOP's, most of which still exist only in the shadows.

Even Tom Ridge believed when he left his post that the threat levels were essentially without merit. And many other elements of the Department's response have been laughable to date, such as its failure to spend R&D funds on airport screening methods (and actually rerouting funds for explosive detection to cover budget shortfalls). And we all know about the Department's Katrina response. But bureaucracies are not about being effective. They're about self-perpetuation. Their formal structures are ceremonial in nature, designed to ensure legitimacy in the eyes of the general public rather than effectiveness. And the primary tool for their self-perpetuation is the expansion of SOP's. The organizational theorists Meyer and Rowan describe the process of bureaucracies seeking legitimacy, or "confidence in structural elements," as occurring through "avoidance, discretion, and overlooking. Others are delegation, professionalization, goal ambiguity, elimination of output data, and maintenance of face. They contribute to an aura of confidence within and outside the organization. They maintain the assumption that people are acting in good faith." And while the general public is led to believe that the Department is acting in good faith, what are we told to do? Do we have an active role in helping to protect our homes? No. We are told to "go about our lives," even to "shop." We are essentially told to remain passive. Let the SOP's self-execute. Like a veritable Paul Klee painting of a twittering machine. Stay put. Don't question. We're from the government and we're here to help.

Why should we be so concerned about the homeland security SOP's that have been thrust upon us? The institutionalized responses to "terror"? Well, there are places in America that have had decades of experience with disaster, and for whom the SOP's of emergency response have solidified to a frightening degree. Take Norco, Louisiana, for example.

Due to a lack of zoning controls, the residents of Norco lived less than ten yards away from a petrochemical plant and two refineries. Accidents at these plants take place several times per month. When an accident occurs in a town like Norco, a series of routine responses are set in motion. The politics of risk management and communication in Norco proceed according to distinct ritualistic acts by government and industry officials. Information available to the public is limited. The Parish did not release a disaster plan detailing worst case scenarios for its facilities until January, 1999. By 1997, Saint Charles Parish had established three ambient air monitoring sites to collect measurements of air pollutant concentrations. However, these facilities are located far away from such facilities as the Shell Norco manufacturing complex (in Destrehan, Hahnville, and Luling), and measure a severely limited range of pollutants (only PM10 and ozone). None of the toxic pollutants that are produced by petrochemical plants or that would be of concern to residents during an accidental release are monitored by state or federal agencies. Nor are there any existing requirements under the Clean Air Act for monitoring toxic air pollutants. The Parish does not even play a role in environmental enforcement and compliance and is reliant on the state Department of Environmental Quality for such actions. Citizen complaints are forwarded to an Emergency Operations Center, which sends information to the state police who in turn work with appropriate state and federal agencies. So what happens during an accident? Below are two accounts of a recent accident in Norco, Louisiana:

Shell's account:

0800: over-pressure of a small vessel occurred at the resins unit at Shell Chemical
0815: event declared unusual and on-site emergency response team activated
0827: event upgraded to an alert level, which tells the DEQ and parish officials to assemble their personnel
0827-0850: nearby schools told to shelter in place due to the potential for flying debris from a rupture. State police notified. DEQ director called for a rerouting of busses to a high school outside the potentially impacted area. DEQ informs schools schools next to plant to shelter in place.
0935: state police arrive at plant
0945: a message is sent over an automatic phone line to Norco residents.
1005: DEQ officials arrive to take air samples and are informed that there was no release. DEQ officials decide not to take air samples.
1052: event is downgraded to an unusual event.
1140: an all clear is declared.
1500: fliers are distributed throughout the community

Norco resident's account:

8:30 a.m.: a cloudy mist descends upon residents of Washington Street in Norco, LA.
9:35 a.m.: a representative from Shell travels into the community warning residents to keep their doors and windows closed and to stay inside.
3:30 p.m.: another representative passes out fliers announcing that the emergency was over and there were no chemical releases to the community

There are subtle differences in the descriptions of an uncontrolled reaction in a batch resins unit at Shell Chemical by company officials and a resident. The militaristic set of responses in the first account is used by Shell officials to suggest that emergency response SOP's in place with the Parish and State worked as planned. It included steps taken to change the designation of the accident, escalating and de-escalating from "unusual" to "emergency" to "under control" and finally "all clear." A series of notification steps were taken to comply with regulations governing the facility's use of hazardous materials. DEQ officials responded to one of these calls, and declined to take canister air samples based solely on Shell claims.

While procedures were undertaken and documented by the relevant authorities, residents experienced roughly six hours of uncertainty, fear, and silence. What role were residents given during this time? As is standard practice under such circumstances, they simply responded to instructions given to them one hour after a "black cloud" was seen "walking" across lawns of the homes on Washington Street at 8:30 in the morning. "Shelter in place," they were told: seek the nearest building, seal off potential sources of air, shut your windows and doors, turn off your air conditioner (if you have one), and wait. The "duck and cover"-like qualities of this approach to emergency planning are striking. In a low-income community consisting of aging, dilapidated, wooden-framed homes, residents are given the impossible task of sealing themselves inside, and the disempowering task of remaining completely reliant on the assurances of officials, whose common refrain is to give an "all-clear" announcement or siren several hours after the start of an accident. Do nothing; wait for the signal; be passive.

Look to the places in our country where the SOP's of emergency response have been given decades to solidify. See how those who live there are stripped of any role to play in decision-making or in protecting their loved ones. Realize that we must question the legitimacy of bureaucratized response to crisis. And consider Tom Ridge's suggestion that in the event of a chemical attack, we should use duct tape in order to "shelter in place" a wake-up call for us all.

Vaya con Dios - brooding presence